America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Burbank Middle School, at the main entrance.

The LAPD's cordon had been lifted since dawn, and Los Angeles citizens had been coming to lay flowers and mourn the victims.

A very ordinary Volkswagen stopped at the curb, with Martin holding a bouquet of flowers as he got out of the car, walking to the school entrance with a somber expression. He took off the sunglasses he was wearing and placed the flowers in the memorial area.

Like the others who came to lay flowers, he observed a moment of silence toward the direction of the school.

The many people around frequently glanced his way, and quite a few recognized Martin.

An elderly woman with white hair opened her arms and walked toward Martin, and they embraced gently.

"Child, do not be too saddened, you have done very well," the old woman consoled Martin. "May God bless every one of us."

Martin stepped away from the old woman, his expression solemn, eyes red, seeming still immersed in grief.

Others came over as well, either to shake hands or to embrace Martin, offering comforting words.

"You did all you could."

"Child, you are a hero."

"No one could have done better than you."

Martin remained silent throughout, as if nearly crushed by the heavy sorrow.

At such a floral tribute location, media reporters were naturally present, capturing everything with their cameras.

When a reporter came over hoping to interview him, Martin declined politely.

Martin walked towards his car, leaving the cameras with a view of his back.

This figure seemed slightly stooped, as if bearing the weight of the whole city of Los Angeles.

As the Volkswagen drove off, many entertainment reporters and paparazzi followed.

Quickly, the car stopped in front of a well-known psychological clinic, and Martin entered the clinic accompanied by his agent, Thomas.

"Even the strongest of men have their moments of weakness," a female reporter said to her assistant. "I hope there's nothing wrong with his mental state."

The slightly sleazy assistant finished taking pictures and speculated maliciously, "Could this all be an act? In reality, he's perfectly fine and probably even happy about his skyrocketing fame."

"He saved 16 people!" the reporter said. "No matter what, that fact cannot be changed."

Martin, of course, had no psychological issues. Thomas, out of concern, had him visit a psychologist, and considering the actual need, he had merely chatted with the psychologist idly for a bit.

Thomas received a phone call, and when Martin got back in the car, he said, "The company just got a call from Coca-Cola's headquarters. The Coca-Cola Company wants to invite you to be their North American spokesperson."

The driver, Bruce, couldn't help but laugh, "The Cola Cult huh!"

"We can talk, but let's not go public immediately." Revealing the news now would give the public the wrong impression of profiting off tragedy, Martin instructed, "What I've done is flashy enough; I should keep a lower profile personally."

Thomas understood Martin's intent, "Negotiations won't be so quick, it's just initial contact now. Even if it goes well, it'll take some time. In a few days, I'll accompany you to Atlanta for the filming, and we can negotiate with Coca-Cola while we're there."

Martin certainly wouldn't refuse Coca-Cola. With the status of the Cola Cult, he would command a seven-figure endorsement fee at the very least.

It's said he's the hero of Los Angeles, yet the hero of Los Angeles doesn't even own a house in the city.

Bruce looked at the time and turned on the car radio,

This morning at half-past ten, that guy from the White House, young Bu, was scheduled to deliver a televised speech addressing the Burbank Middle School incident.

......

Washington, at the White House press room.

Bu faced the cameras and spoke solemnly, stating that many families experienced their worst nightmare yesterday. He declared that flags across the nation would be flown at half-mast in mourning and promised that the government would take stronger measures to protect schools and the safety of teachers and students, among other things.

When a reporter asked about the issue of gun control, Bu responded directly, "Truthfully, what I can do is less than what Martin Davis did; he was able to take down the shooter and save 16 people. All I can do aside from praying and mourning is nothing."

Another reporter stated, "Mourning and prayers can't stop bullets."

Bu found the perfect shield, "Martin Davis prevented the tragedy from escalating." He forcefully changed the topic, "I am heartened to see a hero like Martin Davis stand up. He's a young man who represents the hope of America. I suggest that he be awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom!"

This is the highest federal civilian award in America, presented by the president annually.

The reporters' attention was immediately diverted to Martin Davis, no longer pursuing difficult questions about gun management which held no real significance.

After the press conference, the White House forwarded Martin's information to the Outstanding Civilian Service Committee, who would nominate the list of candidates, with the final decision to be made by Bu himself.

......

In a villa in Los Angeles, Jolie watched the live news broadcast and fell into thought.

The Presidential Medal of Freedom, nearly the highest federal honor a civilian could receive. If Bu dared to say this at a press conference, it wasn't just to ride on Martin's popularity—he truly intended to follow through.

After all, the medal requires the president's approval.

Jolie was a bit envious; how wonderful it would be if she could receive it. It would so perfectly align with the direction she was planning to take, to polish her image beyond just movies.

How many actors in Hollywood have received this honor?

Julie thought hard; she could only recall two people, one was Audrey Hepburn, and the other was the black actor Sidney Poitier.

A cell phone rang beside her; it was a call from Brad Pitt.

"Hi, tonight? Is your wife not around?" Julie's eyes were still on the TV, as the news once again showed the footage of Martin's heroic rescue from yesterday. For some reason, she suddenly found Pitt on the other end of the line to be bland and uninteresting, so she made up an excuse, "I have an important script discussion meeting tonight, no time for a date, let's talk another time."

Pitt on the other end of the line was obviously disappointed, but he did not insist.

Julie put down her phone and picked up the remote control to flip through the channels, almost every news station was showing Martin's name and image.

Unless something big happened, for the next few days Martin and Burbank Middle School would still occupy the prominent positions in the hot news.

Julie watched the news video of Martin swinging a bottle of Coca-Cola to smash the criminal, and couldn't help but pick up her phone and dial Martin's number. Once he answered, she said with a laugh, "Mr. Martin, this is your student Angie, do you have time today? I have many questions I need to ask you."

Martin's schedule for today was packed, so he declined politely, "Sorry, Angie, I'm busy today. Since yesterday's event, there've been many troubles to deal with."

"No problem," Julie said with a laugh, "when you have time."

There were people talking on the other end, and they hung up first.

Julie looked at her phone, placed it on the couch, and thought that Martin's popularity wasn't something she could leech off in short order.

Originally, she wanted to take advantage of Martin's heat to kindle her own.

Julie stood up and came to the window, casually picking up a newspaper, and Martin's face met her eyes.

Martin was everywhere.

Julie took a deep breath and reminded herself not to be anxious, "Wanted Order" would start shooting soon, and as his student, she would have plenty of time to consult with Teacher Martin.

......

Two days later, at Los Angeles City Hall.

The Presidential Medal of Freedom had not yet been confirmed, and even if it were, it would have to wait until just before Independence Day to be awarded.

But the honor bestowed by the City of Los Angeles was quickly determined.

In order to control the direction of public opinion, Los Angeles City Hall and the City Council awarded it to Martin himself at the fastest speed.

With Thomas accompanying him, Martin attended the memorial event in the City Hall square.

The public relations expert from the LAPD, McLain, stayed by Martin's side throughout.

Before the event officially started, Martin and McLain, on the side of the stage, took interviews from media including the "Los Angeles Times," Warner Television Network, CNN, and NBC.

After three days of silence, Martin finally spoke a few words, delivering a boost to LAPD.

His voice was soft, hoarse, and upon hearing it one could not help but think of excessive grief: "I've been wanting to thank the LAPD, but I've had some psychological issues the last few days, preventing me from talking and communicating with people."

Many reporters present had seen Martin visiting a psychologist with their own eyes.

Martin said, "With the doctor's help, I've gradually recovered, and can finally say thank you to the LAPD. During the most critical moment, my companions and I were cornered by the gunman in the hallway, and it was the LAPD who rescued us."

McLain, who was beside him, immediately chimed in, "No, it was Martin who saved sixteen people, subdued two gunmen, and then coordinated with the LAPD to kill the last gunman. It's the LAPD that should be thanking Martin!"

As for the tragedy and all, that wasn't important; what was important was that both Martin and the LAPD were credited for their efforts.

The memorial service began shortly, and after a moment of silence across the venue, the Mayor of Los Angeles, Villaraigosa, came to the podium to speak, "In the past three days, the whole of Los Angeles has been immersed in grief..."

He rambled on for a bit, and toward the end, he was talking while wiping away tears.

The best actors are in politics.

Grief wasn't the theme of this event. Villaraigosa went on to say, "We cannot forget every victim, every injured person, every individual and family who has suffered trauma, nor can we forget those who have helped Los Angeles. Martin Davis, an ordinary actor, an ordinary young man, faced with the muzzle of a criminal's gun, he bravely stood out, saving 16 people. He is a hero, a hero of Los Angeles."

The mayor lifted his head, facing the sunlight as if seeing hope, "In those dark times, Martin Davis was like the sun! Los Angeles will forever remember Martin Davis, and I, on behalf of Los Angeles City, award him the title of honorary citizen!"

Villaraigosa said, "Please, Martin Davis!"

McLain gave Martin a nudge, and Martin walked up to the stage, receiving a golden key symbolizing the honorary citizen from Antonio's hands.

Loud applause rose all over the square.

The public had seen the video, knew what Martin had done, and they believed their own eyes.

Holding the golden key, Martin approached the microphone offered by Villaraigosa and began, "I'm sorry, I did my best..."

But before he could finish, tears were already streaming down his face, "I... I'm sorry, I can't go on..."

With that, Martin turned and walked off the stage.

There was silence in the square at first, followed by someone shouting, "Martin, you did good!"

"You should be proud!"

The voices were instantly drowned out by applause, a fervent applause that lasted for several minutes.

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