"Relax, you'll be fine." Leon turned to Sean and ordered, "Get him to the nearest hospital immediately!"
Counting on the efficiency of New York ambulances, King Von would likely be cold by the time help arrived.
"Boss, I'm gonna kill those two btches from the New York camp!" King Von howled in pain but didn't forget to shout threats, like a dying fighting dog.
"Shh..." Leon put his finger to his lips. "This isn't the time to play tough. getting too excited will speed up the blood loss. I'm not kidding; you really will die."
Hearing this, King Von shut up immediately and was carried onto the ambulance by staff members holding his shoulders.
A rapper affiliated with JAY-Z's company evaded the set's security, brought a weapon in, and shot a singer from the Walking Dead label without warning.
Leon didn't need to rack his brain to figure out that all this was instigated by JAY-Z.
But what's the point of planning this?
If it was for revenge, he should have come for Leon himself.
Although the risk of doing so is high, it is the most efficient way to permanently resolve the East Coast dispute.
Even if he wanted to weaken Leon's power, he should have targeted the bigger star, Cardi B.
King Von is just a nobody and currently has no commercial value at all.
Ten minutes later, the siren sounding downstairs gave Leon the answer.
The police officer who received the call and arrived at the scene was a familiar face—Frank Tenpenny, the dirty cop from the NYPD.
"Long time no see, Mr. Leon. Looks like you're in trouble again..." Tenpenny forced a smile.
He just responded to the call according to procedure and didn't expect to encounter such a coincidence.
Since Diddy was arrested, he had given up the idea of opposing Leon and wished he could avoid him.
The power struggle behind Diddy's arrest is intertwined. Although the public is kept in the dark, as a police officer, Tenpenny can easily learn many unknown details.
Using the power of Homeland Security to raid Diddy's mansion was Senator Charlie, a core figure at the TOP 5 level on Capitol Hill.
"In trouble? I don't quite understand what you mean." Leon spread his hands. "A gunman attacked here, and the victim is lying in the hospital. Obviously, all this has nothing to do with me."
Trying to completely absolve himself with a few words—this is obviously impossible.
As the producer of this show, cooperating with the police investigation is his obligation.
Tenpenny shook his head helplessly. "I know you are a businessman, and I don't want to disturb your big business... but all the witnesses here have to go back to the police station with me for investigation. I have to do this..."
Hearing this, Leon completely figured out the trick JAY-Z played.
The other party sent two contestants to participate in the show. One was the gunman, so the one who called the police to let the incident ferment quickly was obviously the other one.
The scale of this shooting incident was not large, and the people involved were not famous, but it was enough to stall the filming of the show.
There were nearly 40 contestants on the scene, and counting the program staff, there were over a hundred people.
If all these people have to go to the station to cooperate with taking statements, don't even think about filming the show smoothly for at least a month.
Leon perfunctorily argued with Tenpenny while swiping his phone to check social media. The discussion about the shooting on the hot search really confirmed his guess.
"Fierce conflict broke out between a singer under Roc Nation and Leon's Walking Dead label; someone was shot at the recording site of The Rap of America."
"Street Judas's Day of Atonement; the treacherous person cannot be forgiven!"
"Revealing the history of Leon Smith's rise; how the unfamiliar vicious dog bites back at its master JAY-Z."
From the start of the shooting incident to the police intervention, the whole process took only twenty minutes.
These high-click articles on social media are sharply worded and solidly founded, obviously not drafts temporarily written by melon-eating masses for likes.
Professional water army (paid internet trolls) companies had prepared all this long before the shooting happened.
At the same time, the search volume for JAY-Z's new album Watch the Throne rose exponentially.
The lyrics of the title song Niggas In Paris now sounded like they had another layer of deep meaning.
So I ball so hard mothafuckas wanna fine me
First niggas gotta find me
Many netizens felt that this part of the lyrics was completely directed at Leon.
This can't even be called over-interpretation; the intention is too obvious.
Since his debut, Leon has always tried every means to consume others to harvest traffic, like a vulture circling over a corpse.
He should have expected that one day he would also be consumed by others.
JAY-Z used a small-scale shooting incident to achieve the purpose of delaying the program recording and harvested a wave of traffic for the new album.
"Listen, Mr. Leon, I don't want to waste your time... but this is a routine procedure, and I will resolve it as quickly as possible."
Tenpenny intentionally lowered his tone to the lowest. Such a situation rarely appeared in his twenty-year law enforcement career.
There is a scene that has been repeatedly staged in history: In wars, those who are most ruthless to their own blood compatriots are often colonial legions.
Similarly, once black people put on police uniforms, their methods of treating compatriots are often more brutal.
Tenpenny's police career began in a crime-ridden black neighborhood, randomly selecting lucky nggas to receive a "clip-emptying gift package."
Sometimes it was to deter drug dealers in the block to facilitate the collection of black money, and sometimes it was purely because he was tired of working and wanted administrative leave.
After the fall of the big sponsor Diddy, he dared not speak harshly to a white master like Leon.
"I am not a witness and have no obligation to go back to the police station with you to cooperate with the investigation. If you have anything else to say, you can contact my lawyer." Leon pointed to the staff and contestants on the scene. "No one saw what happened here. If you don't believe it, you can ask them now."
Most of the contestants came from bottom-level slums and had been dealt with by cops since childhood. Under Leon's instigation, they nodded in unison.
Non-cooperation is their attitude.
"This..." Tenpenny looked troubled.
"According to the procedure, you should go to the hospital first to understand the situation of the injured. Do I need to remind you of this point?" Leon tilted his head and lit a cigarette.
Tenpenny lowered his head and whispered: "You are right, the procedure is like that..."
After speaking, he turned around and was about to take the three officers behind him to the hospital.
This scene dumbfounded all the contestants present. In the neighborhoods where they grew up, they were used to seeing police officers acting majestic.
Even those notorious community drug dealers ran like rabbits seeing a hawk when they saw the police.
The scene of Leon educating the cops like educating elementary school students made them thoroughly understand what a real big shot should look like.
Just as Tenpenny was about to reach the door, Leon stopped him. "Say hello to Mr. McMahon for me."
The corner of his mouth twitched, and three seconds later switched to a smile. "I will convey this greeting..."
After Diddy was arrested, McMahon became a frightened bird. He was Diddy's resource in political circles and often appeared on the party list.
Most fatally, the mastermind behind the raid on Diddy's mansion was Charlie. His ability to sit in his current position relied entirely on the other party's promotion.
He prayed every day that taking off the police uniform would be the best result. Once he put on the orange prison uniform, he would really be finished.
He dared not imagine what cruel means those villains he had put in prison would use to destroy his white ass.
After sending away this group of dirty cops, Leon returned to his office at Apocalypse Music.
As soon as he came back, he heard Phil's loud voice: "Heard you got into trouble again? Damn it, which bastard injured my precious ngga?"
"Do I need to say more?" Leon spread his hands. "Look at today's entertainment section and you'll know."
"You mean JAY-Z?"
"Who else could it be?"
"Fxxk..." The old geezer cursed while smoking, sitting heavily on the sofa. "He is already a successful billionaire; why is he still obsessed with such dirty tricks? It's incomprehensible."
"Simple but efficient. The record sales data released in a few days will give the answer."
"Damn." Phil shook his head. "How is that kid King Von?"
"That ngga is very lucky; the bullet missed the artery in his thigh by only two centimeters." Leon paused and said, "That kid is also a blessing in disguise. The shooting incident made his name stand on the cusp of the storm again. Now more and more people believe that he is really the gunman who shot Diddy."
While the two were chatting hotly, Bonnie walked in. "Boss, Miss Ariana is outside; she wants to see you."
"Why doesn't she just come in?"
Leon was a little surprised. Ariana never had the habit of saying hello when entering his office, just like Robbie.
"There is another lady with her... I think that's her mother."
Leon sat up straight, remembering what Ariana mentioned a few days ago.
He straightened his clothes. "Let them in."
Phil was obviously tactless. In this situation, he not only didn't know to avoid it but also teased aside: "You and Little A have progressed to this extent? I have to remind you that middle-aged women in high society are not easy to get along with. I have plenty of experience in this regard."
Ariana's mother, Joan, is a successful businesswoman. She serves as CEO at the audio equipment company Hose-McCann Communications, which once provided equipment services for EMI Records.
Italian heritage, plus the identity of a strong woman—the two buffs stacked together destined this to be a difficult woman.
A minute later, the office door was pushed open.
As soon as Ariana's mother entered, she started complaining: "The environment here really doesn't look like a formal company. Those btches downstairs wearing lace panties are disgusting..."
Short hair, red lips, face full of technological fillers (plastic surgery)...
Plus the dazzling jewelry all over her body, just looking at the strong appearance confirmed Leon's previous guess.
"Mom..." Ariana lowered her head and tugged at the corner of her clothes, whispering: "This is my boss Leon."
"Hello, Mr. Leon."
Joan took the initiative to extend her right hand, and Leon hurried to meet her. "Look at you, indeed as handsome as on TV. No wonder my daughter always mentions your name on the phone."
"Mom!" Ariana's fair face instantly blushed.
"You flatter me, Mrs. Grande." Leon invited the other party to sit down. "What would you like? Whiskey or coffee?"
Joan snorted coldly and choked unpleasantly: "Whiskey is trash drunk by those Brits smelling of body odor. Just give me coffee; I hope the coffee here is not too hard to swallow."
"This mean woman..." Even Phil couldn't stand this scene.
But Leon's emotions showed no fluctuation; he always smiled and asked Bonnie to bring two cappuccinos according to the other party's meaning.
He once heard Ariana mention that Joan was born in Sicily, Italy, the birthplace of the Mafia full of mystery in old-school gangster movies.
When Joan was seventeen, she smashed a Mafia member's kneecap with a mixing console in Turin and poisoned the neighbor's annoying dog by mixing herbicide in a pie...
Facing the notorious Street Jesus, she naturally maintained her consistent tough style to protect her daughter's interests to the greatest extent.
"Honestly, the environment here really needs an upgrade. It looks like a simple workshop with no aesthetic to speak of." Joan took a sip of coffee. "This stuff is only called coffee in New York. In Italy, we would pour it into the toilet as a cleaner."
Her mother's behavior embarrassed Ariana to the extreme, looking at Leon with helpless eyes.
Leon curved the corners of his mouth, comforting the other party's emotions with his eyes.
"You are absolutely right. In fact, we are moving. I bought a building in Downtown Brooklyn as the company's new office location."
"A building?" Joan's eyes widened, then immediately returned to normal. "How big is the area?"
"About 35,000 square feet."
"That's pretty good..." Joan pretended to be calm, but her mindset had long changed.
The thickness of the wallet determines the mother-in-law's attitude towards the son-in-law; this is true all over the world.
Although Joan is the CEO of an audio equipment company, the scale of that company is not large, with annual revenue of around $50 million.
As a company manager, even counting equity dividends, her annual income would not exceed $2 million.
She narrowed her eyes and continued to ask: "I usually only love listening to opera and watching Broadway shows, so I haven't heard many of your works, but I heard you are very good at making money, and bought a house in Tribeca not long ago?"
"Yes, actually I have no requirements for the living environment; it is purely for investment needs." Leon calmly showed off, implying: I have so much money I don't know how to spend it.
In addition to achievements in music, the media also frequently published articles discussing his business achievements at length, revealing his business map.
The response to such articles is very good; no one is not curious about how a newly debuted singer accumulated nearly 100 million in wealth within a year.
"Mom! Don't ask these irrelevant questions!" Ariana finally couldn't hold back; her mother's questioning about money made her feel ashamed.
This doesn't look like getting to know the boss of her daughter's company; it looks more like a mother-in-law probing the family background of a future son-in-law.
"Is this the attitude you speak to me with?" Joan rolled her eyes and took out a cigarette from her clutch. "Maybe I should have come with pepper spray and the Bible to see if your soul is still above your belt."
"It's okay, Little A. Mrs. Grande is doing this completely out of concern for you, wanting to know more about me." Leon hurried over to smooth things over.
"Right right right... I am doing this because I care about you, Ariana!" At this time, Joan's attitude had turned 180 degrees from when they first met.
Even if she wanted to maintain a strong appearance on the surface, the fawning in her eyes betrayed everything.
"I heard you invested in a movie that was showing in theaters not long ago?"
"That's right, did you go see it?"
"No." Joan waved her hand. "Just seeing that poster made me lose interest in walking into the cinema. That's a black movie. Watching such a movie in Italy would be laughed at."
"What a pity." Leon sighed. "That movie did well at the box office, breaking 200 million dollars. IMDb calls it the greatest music biopic in history."
"What did you say? How much?" Joan was trembling with excitement, so much so that she didn't notice the cigarette ash falling on her stockings.
"Two hundred million is a conservative estimate; KPMG's audit results haven't come out yet." Leon spread his hands.
"Woo..." Joan took two deep breaths. "Look at you, achieving such success at only 21 is really amazing. You must have also invested in some stocks, right? Ariana's father and I know a lot about this..."
"I'm not interested in stocks." Leon interrupted her. "But I still have tens of millions of cash lying in my account. Maybe you can teach me how to make money in the stock market."
"By the way, I am producing a talent show. Maybe you will see Ariana in this show soon."
Hearing this, Joan completely shed her previous disguise, looking at Leon like Cyclops in X-Men (lasers shooting out of her eyes).
A strange thought even popped up in the bottom of her heart—How good it would be if I were thirty years younger...