Reborn Scumbag: Jizzing to the Top of the Music Empire and Hollywood Chapter 168 162: Back to the 90s Streets

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The next day, the box office numbers for the second week of Straight Outta Compton were hot off the press, hitting $39 million for the weekend and crushing Super 8 to retain the championship title.

At the sa ti, the news of Davis getting shot outside a nightclub in Harlem swept the headlines of every major entertainnt outlet in the US.

On the way to the hospital, Leon focused on interacting with fans on social dia, while reports about the shooting kept coming through the radio.

"According to our reporter's latest update, Davis, the young black actor who plays the third male lead in the hit movie Straight Outta Compton, was shot near a nightclub in Harlem."

"The gunman fired two shots before being driven off by Davis's companions; one of the shots hit Davis in the lower body..."

"Currently, the actor is receiving treatnt in the hospital. The police are investigating and have refused to disclose further information..."

Internet communities were full of speculation about the cause of this incident.

Leon had earned the title of the "White Godfather of Harlem" thanks to Straight Outta Compton, and now an actor under his banner gets shot right in Harlem.

Putting these things together, it was hard not to suspect this was a targeted revenge attack.

"Not necessarily a bad thing~" The corners of Leon's mouth turned up.

"I don't quite understand what you an. Soone is clearly targeting you," Jorge, who was driving, asked in confusion.

Leon maintained his smile without responding.

Judging from the current situation, Davis taking that bullet was completely worth it.

Many viewers who had absolutely no interest in this movie would now buy tickets out of curiosity.

The heat brought by the incident might even help Straight Outta Compton achieve the great feat of a "three-peat" at the sumr box office.

Davis just lost a ball, but Leon gained millions of dollars in real inco.

At this ti, P. Diddy suddenly updated his Twitter with a "crying while laughing" emoji.

A picture is worth a thousand words; he was practically admitting to it.

In the comnts section, the top-rated reply was from a young black rapper admitting that he planned the shooting.

The plot was so familiar—exactly the sa as how Diddy was shot back in the day.

"Did this damn ngga read The Art of War or sothing?" Leon laughed out of anger.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

The plot of charging for an idol couldn't possibly be staged a second ti.

This was all masterminded by Diddy behind the scenes.

It wasn't hard to imagine how wildly Diddy was laughing right now; he'd probably use three extra bottles of baby oil at the party tonight.

In the hospital bed, Davis had woken up from the anesthesia.

However, his eyes had lost their usual spirit, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Leon sat down by the bed. "You'll be fine, man..."

Seeing this, Davis completely lost it, screaming emotionally on the bed, "Bro, do you know what I lost?! Fxxk, I'm not a complete man anymore!"

"No girl will ever fall in love with again! I'm going to scalp those bastards like an Indian!"

Such a tragic encounter would make any man lose control of his emotions.

Leon could only comfort him repeatedly: "It's okay to have one less..."

"WTF, what are you talking about, Bro?" Davis's eyes widened, suspecting he heard wrong.

"I an, missing one won't affect your masculinity," Leon said. "That painter with the little mustache also only had one, but it didn't stop him from almost conquering the world."

Hearing this, Davis, a primary school dropout, cald down a bit emotionally.

"Bro, we must get revenge! Not through diss tracks!" Davis roared. "We must completely destroy them!"

"Don't worry, you'll see the results very soon."

Even just to maintain his street reputation, Leon had to fight back against Diddy's escalating provocations.

It seed he didn't even need to do it himself.

Far away on the West Coast, Robinson had already sent a dozen gunn to New York.

He claid to hate Davis, but he was also an investor in the movie, and Davis was a lead actor in Straight Outta Compton.

Every street thug in Compton knew Davis was one of the Saint's people.

More importantly, it was about his cousin.

The mont she heard the news, the cousin felt like her world had gone dark.

From now on, Davis really only had a flexible tongue left.

Robinson's ssage to Leon was very concise: "Give the list of those bastards, my people will find them."

Just one day later, Robinson fulfilled his promise.

The underground rapper who claid to have shot Davis was turned into a sieve in his rented apartnt.

Hit by more than ten bullets.

The underground rapper was finally sent underground by thugs from Compton.

"Well done..." In the office, Leon drank coffee leisurely.

Before he could be smug for a few minutes, news ca from Miami that the Wicked Angel flagship store had been looted by a gang.

"Who would go on a zero-dollar shopping spree at a lingerie store?" Leon imdiately realized sothing was wrong, and further understanding confird this point.

The gang set fire to all the goods in the store.

If the fire departnt hadn't been surprisingly tily for once, this flagship store would no longer exist.

The war on the streets was spreading rapidly.

Near Lion's Den Radio in the Bronx, soone shot at the radio station's windows.

Suspicious people were also seen haunting Chester Bad Boy Radio in Brownsville and the Lion's Den dia headquarters in Brooklyn.

Diddy's revenge this ti was no longer petty fights; the conflict had escalated to the level of the peak era of gangsta rap in the 90s.

"This ngga has completely lost his mind," Leon complained while instructing Jorge and others to strengthen security asures.

"Being entangled with a guy like you, it's not surprising even if he really went crazy," Phil quipped. "This series of events sends a signal that you have lost JAY-Z's protection. Maybe your ending will be the sa as Tupac's."

Using traffic for hype, suffering backlash from traffic is an inevitable result.

Leon had thought about this result the day he decided to create a street persona; he just didn't expect it to co so quickly.

Phil continued: "There is still room for reconciliation between you and Diddy. It's the 21st century now; taking you out would be a huge risk for him too."

"Reconciliation?!" Jorge snorted coldly and suddenly interrupted. "Give a number, and I'll make that bastard disappear from this world forever~ I an, without leaving a trace."

Coming from Jorge, this statent was full of credibility.

xican gangs have unique wisdom in disposing of bodies; generally, they won't leave clues.

After the "chef's" processing, "one person goes in, a pot of soup cos out."

This statent imdiately drew strong dissatisfaction from Phil: "Do you know what you are talking about? Diddy is worth at least 500 million dollars. If money could solve him, soone would have done it in the 90s!"

This was a rare occasion where Leon felt the old geezer's IQ was online.

Street thods could deal with those penniless blacks, but using them on Diddy was extrely stupid.

A billionaire in the entertainnt industry, after more than twenty years of operation, had built a huge network through debauched parties.

Not only covering half the entertainnt industry but also involving many politicians, brokers, and famous investors...

Watching the two arguing endlessly, Leon felt even more annoyed and said in a deep voice: "Shut up, both of you. The situation hasn't reached that step yet."

He still held a trump card against Diddy; it wasn't ti to reveal it yet.

Reciprocal counterasures were still the optimal solution.

Thinking with his toes, he knew the Miami incident had sothing to do with the Caribbean gang behind Pitbull.

Leon decided to let Aisha contact the local xican gang to root these people out.

After arranging these matters properly, the group left Apocalypse Music.

Tonight Leon had an important date: dinner with Rob Stringer, Chairman of Columbia Records.

This eting was mainly facilitated by Beyoncé, located at a high-end Italian restaurant in Lower Manhattan.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Leon and Phil walked into the restaurant.

A lodious Italian jazz sound rang out. Besides the band, there were only Beyoncé and a well-dressed man at the bar.

Obviously, the place had been booked out.

"Leon~" As soon as they t, Beyoncé showed her usual enthusiasm.

Her headlights pressed tightly against Leon's chest in a hug.

Stringer squinted at this scene, and the two, realizing they were going a bit too far, quickly separated.

"This is Mr. Stringer." Beyoncé pulled Leon to introduce him. "This is the 'Street Jesus' you talk about all day, Leon."

Stringer straightened his lapel and actively extended his right hand.

Although the wrinkles on his face betrayed his age, he looked very energetic.

"Honored to et you."

" too, Mr. Stringer."

"God, I even chant your na in my dreams," Stringer said. "My wife even got mad at because of this, asking which girl Leon is."

Everyone was amused by Stringer's humor; the first eting had no sense of tension.

The two sides skipped the small talk. After the first toast, Stringer went straight to the point and proposed recruiting Leon.

"Frankly speaking, the whole group is very interested in the copyright of your works; we won't hide this."

"Thank you for your honesty."

"If I offer you a satisfactory number, would you consider selling those copyrights?" Stringer asked with a smile.

"That depends on what the number is."

"Your appetite is as big as the rumors say." Stringer lit a cigar, knowing this topic should stop here.

Straight Outta Compton was currently a hit; the other party didn't need to worry about money at all, and he understood this completely.

"Mr. Stringer promised you the best promotion resources; Columbia Records will be your best platform!" Beyoncé took a sip of red wine.

Under the table, she was dangling her high heel on her toes.

Occasionally making so physical contact with Leon.

She had already begun to fantasize that if the two could sign with the sa company, they could do whatever they wanted in the recording studio, photo studio, office, and every corner of the company.

Stringer had outstanding ability. After being appointed Chairman of Columbia Records in 2006, he signed a group of superstars.

Not only Adele and Beyoncé but also the most difficult music legend, Bob Dylan.

Having an extrely lax attitude towards singer managent was his style.

In the subsequent negotiations, Leon put forward his various demands, including whether the "Priority Buyback Rights for Master Recordings" truly existed.

These things were all confird by Stringer.

He slled the red wine in his glass, squinting as he asked: "The conditions you proposed remind of Michael Jackson. The conditions he proposed when signing back then were even harsher than yours..."

Sony and Michael Jackson made each other.

Without MJ, Sony Music's developnt wouldn't have been so rapid.

And without Sony, MJ couldn't have accumulated more than 1 billion dollars in assets solely through his singing career.

This was due to MJ's advanced copyright awareness and the tolerance of Sony's policies at the ti.

It was rumored that the Jackson family also participated in the acquisition of the EMI Records copyright library.

Contributing 50% of the funds, amounting to 1 billion dollars.

To this day, MJ's descendants are still enjoying the shade brought by copyright inco, earning more than 3 million dollars a week.

Stringer changed the subject and said: "It's just that I'm not sure if you have the sa ability as Michael. I'm not doubting your ability; I an, will your inspiration really never dry up?"

Leon imdiately understood the implication of the other party's words.

He was already being "beaten" (tested/warned) before officially signing the contract.

He imdiately confidently stated that he could produce an album within a year of signing.

receiving such an answer, Stringer no longer had any doubts. "As long as you are willing, Columbia opens its doors to you at any ti. The conditions are the sa as we discussed before."

Just as everyone was preparing to raise their glasses to celebrate, he suddenly lowered his voice and said: "But I hope you solve those troubles on you as soon as possible..."

The hot atmosphere imdiately died down; everyone knew what trouble Stringer was talking about.

The series of street conflicts triggered by Leon were intensifying.

Paying the signing fee one day, and the person is gone the next.

Stringer would definitely try to avoid such things happening, putting the ugly words upfront.

"Diddy has gone completely crazy!" Beyoncé cursed indignantly.

Not only Diddy was crazy; JAY-Z was also listless due to the flying rumors.

In the reports of gossip dia, his green hat was almost three stories high.

What surprised him even more was that his wife was actually helping another company poach his corner...

This series of events had been foreshadowed since he signed Rihanna to Roc Nation and the two openly had an affair.

"Give so ti; I will cure Diddy's ntal illness," Leon said. "It won't take long."

Seeing the other party's confident look, Stringer completely relaxed.

At parting, Leon refused Beyoncé's invitation to spend the night together.

Although those black stockings had been rubbed to shreds under the table, he still resisted the temptation.

There were simply too many people watching him in the dark right now.

On the way back, the drunk Phil sighed: "Life is really a damn circle... going round and round, as if I returned to the starting point."

His life reached its peak at Epic Records, and Sony Music is the parent company of that record label.

The Beatles' old song Yesterday played fittingly on the radio.

Yesterday, all my troubles seed so far away

Now it looks as though they're here to stay

Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be

There's a shadow hanging over

Oh, yesterday ca suddenly

Just as Phil was imrsed in sadness, he suddenly noticed a voluptuous figure ahead.

The millstone-like taillights (butt), enhanced by super short hot pants, were dazzling.

Such an image appearing on the street at midnight—undoubtedly, this girl was a "businesswoman."

"Stop quickly! Drop off right here!" Phil urged Jorge, who was driving, eagerly.

He humd a jaunty tune and opened the car door, not forgetting to add before leaving: "You promised Stringer you could solve Diddy's problem soon. How exactly do you plan to solve it?"

"I have a trump card, a trump card Diddy can't bear~" Leon spread his hands, and the vehicle started and quickly disappeared.

Leaving only Phil and the "millstone" ssy in the wind.

He rembered saying the sa thing to the other party, and that ti he won the bet.