Reborn Scumbag: Jizzing to the Top of the Music Empire and Hollywood Chapter 46: Wasted Inspiration

After returning to his apartnt on Henry Street, Leon imdiately contacted a recruitnt agency, looking for qualified financial managent personnel.

At the sa ti, he had Bonnie post the job opening on Apocalypse Music's official channel.

The salary for CPAs (Certified Public Accountants) in New York is ridiculously high, with Senior CPAs typically earning over $150,000 annually.

As a startup record label, they didn't need such high-level financial staff. Talents of that caliber were usually snapped up by the Big Four accounting firms.

Take T-Ray's financial manager Liam at Black Panther Records, for example. He had zero accounting qualifications, yet he handled the books for a criminal organization with ease.

After weighing his options, Leon set the requirents for the Financial Manager as: CPA with so work experience, female preferred.

Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the night view of the East River, Leon muttered to himself, "Maybe I should move the company address too..."

As the label grew day by day, Phil's shabby old office could no longer et the company's needs.

Excluding the recording studio, the actual office space was barely 500 square feet.

"Leon, what are you thinking about?"

Just as Leon was imrsed in deep thought about life, Bonnie walked out of her room carrying a yoga mat.

To better take care of Leon's daily needs, the thoughtful little assistant had moved into his apartnt three days ago.

Although he declined repeatedly, he couldn't withstand Bonnie's fiery enthusiasm. This woman displayed the sa aggressive stance she had before Leon beca famous.

However, after three days of living together, Leon didn't feel uncomfortable at all.

His schedule was packed with various gigs and promotional activities, so he rarely stayed at ho.

With Bonnie around, at least his three als a day were guaranteed during the ti he was ho.

"It's so late, aren't you going to sleep?" Leon turned around to look and almost dropped his cigarette. "WTF are you doing?"

"It's called yoga. Every girl in New York is talking about it right now~"

Leon wasn't unfamiliar with yoga. Yu in Hindi ans psy, and Ga ans dck. (Editor's Note: This is Leon's cynical internal monologue/joke, not linguistic fact.)

This stuff was basically the sa as the ancient Eastern bedroom arts, but after crossing the ocean to capitalist society, it beca a compulsory course for high-society ladies.

"I understand yoga, but at the very least, put so clothes on first," Leon said helplessly, taking a deep drag.

Bonnie had removed all her seals at this point. Her fair skin, dotted with beads of sweat, seed to radiate steam around her body.

"This is called Nude Yoga. It's the best way to detox the body."

"Look, this pose is called Downward-Facing Dog."

Saying this, Bonnie got down on the floor and assud a pose so shaful it made one click their tongue.

"What..."

Seeing this, Leon understood. This was the little assistant asking for her "other salary."

As soon as he put out his cigarette, Bonnie wrapped around him like a snake spirit. Two figures engaged in a brutal battle comparable to the "at Grinder of Verdun" in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.

After the war ended, Bonnie fell asleep right there by the window.

Leon lit his customary post-coital cigarette. Just then, an unfamiliar lody appeared in his head.

Today was the 11th, Inspiration Refresh day.

You were the shadow to my life

Did you feel us

Another start

You fade away

Strong electronic style, avant-garde arrangent...

This was exactly the so-called "future trend of pop music" Leon had discussed with Phil not long ago.

I'm faded, I'm faded

When the lody faded away, the chorus continued to loop infinitely in his mind.

"This is just too catchy..."

Although Leon knew nothing about electronic music, he could judge whether a song would be a hit just by listening to it once.

Like TiK ToK, just one listen made people want to jump along involuntarily. There was no reason for such a work not to blow up.

Obviously, the arrangent of this song, Faded, was more advanced and the synthesized audio more complex, but the only problem was...

The original version given by the Inspiration Refresh was sung by a female.

Unwilling to give up, Leon cleared his throat and tried singing it a cappella. The result sounded like the moan of a ladyboy getting poked in the ass—even he felt disgusted.

Last ti, the Inspiration Refresh gave him a multi-person collaboration, forcing him to go to great lengths to find Kendrick. This ti was even more ridiculous, giving him a work he absolutely couldn't perform.

Leon looked annoyed but had no choice but to put this matter aside for now.

---

Three days later, Leon, Phil, and Bonnie appeared at JFK International Airport, about to depart for Los Angeles.

Phil complained non-stop the whole way: "Fk, you are stingy to a heinous degree. As a record label owner and a Billboard-charting singer, you actually chose to fly economy..."

Leon could only shrug helplessly every ti.

The company was still in its infancy, and it was burning cash right now.

According to the resus sent by the recruitnt agency, most CPAs expected a salary around $100,000.

Add the office relocation costs, and the $200,000-plus he just got from Cardi B's sales split wouldn't last long.

Just then, a tall blonde flight attendant walked past Leon. Her shiny black stockings imdiately caught Phil's attention.

The flight attendant looked at him with disbelief. "Oh my god... are you Street Jesus, Mr. Leon?"

"Yes, miss."

"I can't believe I'm seeing you here..."

This Delta flight attendant showed excellent professionalism. What she really ant was she couldn't believe a singer would choose economy class.

Leon smiled knowingly. "I take the route of the people. That's one of the reasons my fans support ..."

"By the way, can you get two drinks for this old gentleman beside ?"

"Preferably whiskey... I hope not to hear his voice again until the plane lands."

"No problem, sir! Please wait a mont!"

After the flight attendant left, Phil gave Leon a fierce eye roll. "If you were born 200 years ago, you'd definitely be the cruelest slave owner."

Leon took that entirely as a complint and smiled. "My new piece, Faded... the backing track should be done by now, right?"

Phil shook his head. "It's not that simple... So synthesized audio is too complex. It needs a top professional DJ to complete."

"Speaking of which, you don't understand electronic music at all. How did you create a work like this?"

Facing the old fox's question, Leon was montarily speechless, not knowing how to answer.

He could only attribute it to God-given talent. So people are born with perfect pitch; no matter how complex the chord, they can instantly identify the constituent notes.

"You know, man, talent is sothing you can't explain..."