Kingdom Come (3)
Donald Trump. A future President of the United States, but currently a businessman and celebrity. His fame, which far exceeded that of any ordinary person, went without saying. As an entrepreneur who actively exposed himself to the media, he was famous within the industry for his aggressive, leverage-based expansion. Having gone through a period of restructuring after the crisis of the early 1990s, he had now made his grand appearance on the scene.
The reason he arrived with beautiful women on both arms was to advertise that he was the owner and host of the Miss USA pageant, which he had acquired in 1996. At the same time, his sensational entrance was a blatant display to the public that he was highly interested in Sion Lee.
Regardless of the stares, Trump offered a broad grin, waved to the crowd, and turned around. He approached Sion and spoke.
"You called, and I answered, Mr. Lee."
"..."
Sion remained silent for a brief moment before offering his reply.
"I didn't order any pizza."
"Pizza? Sounds great. Shall we order one after this? Stuffed crust?"
"I'm currently working..."
Recalling several recent events, a lightbulb suddenly went off in Sion's head.
"So it was you who set up the NBC Nightly News interview?"
"Hmm? Set up? That's a bit grand. I simply said, 'That fellow looks promising.' Since my Miss USA pageant airs on NBC, well... I often spend some quality time with their president, so I just happened to bring it up. Though, when I met him recently, he was absolutely thrilled. It seems the ratings for your broadcast were spectacular."
"..."
It appeared Trump was indeed the host of the gathering Tom Brokaw had invited him to after the broadcast.
"In any case, it was a memorable entrance, wasn't it?"
"It certainly was. So, what do you plan to do now?"
"What I do best."
With a confident laugh, Trump turned on his heel and walked straight toward the host. He snatched the microphone right out of the host's hand and shouted to the audience.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am Donald Trump, attending today as a special guest!"
Surprisingly, no one reacted. The crowd stared at him with expressions that clearly asked, Why is this guy here?
And for good reason. This was a Bad Contract 2 fan meeting. Suddenly, this man had barged in, declared himself a "special guest," and started acting like the main character.
"Who the hell invited that guy?" Joe Pesci muttered bluntly, looking utterly flabbergasted.
But Trump didn't care in the slightest.
"I am here to entertain you all!"
Taking a seat, he began asking questions as if he were the host. His very first question was this:
"Sion Lee. How great of an actor do you think you are?"
"..."
Trump had casually trespassed into uncharted territory that no one else dared to touch.
It was a highly personal question, completely unrelated to the movie. Yet, the public, who thrived on such sensationalism, cheered wildly.
"Sigh, that man..." Jodie Foster, who knew Trump's style of arming himself with provocative and direct remarks, let out a deep sigh.
Sion also let out a chuckle, finding the situation absurd, and raised his microphone. Frankly, he had been feeling a bit bored anyway.
"A special guest turning into the host. How entertaining. What does everyone think? Are you curious?"
The briefly chaotic atmosphere was instantly brought under control. It was a collaborative masterpiece by Donald Trump and Sion Lee. The eyes of those around them widened in surprise. To turn a floating, confused venue into a roaring crucible of excitement in a single breath—neither of them possessed an ordinary heart.
"Before I answer..." Sion smiled slyly and asked, "I'd like to ask you a question in return, Trump. How did you end up here? You weren't on the guest list. Should I take this as an expression of your desire to join Bad Contract 3?"
Instantly, a chorus of boos rained down. To movie fans, Trump was a businessman whose claim to cinematic fame was a cameo in Home Alone 2 and various other films. In other words, he was the quintessential villain who bought his way onto the screen.
Knowing this image all too well, Trump shrugged his shoulders, looking rather pleased.
"Wonderful! Shall we blow up Trump Tower?! In CGI, of course!"
Watching from afar, the reporters' hands began moving furiously. A succession of bombshell remarks.
Laughing heartily, Trump then turned to the fans' questions with a serious face.
"I bought it. This multiplex chain."
"Oh, so you're the owner. Well, to celebrate the acquisition, why don't you do something grand and hand out a free movie ticket to every single fan who came here today?"
"...Huh? What did you say?"
Trump was momentarily taken aback, but the crowd's reaction was explosive. And surprisingly, as he took in their response, Trump's cheeks flushed with excitement. He was born this way. He was the type who craved being at the center of attention, absolutely living for the spotlight.
"Is one ticket really enough?"
"How about two, then?"
"Deal. That's how you make a bargain. When you give, you give big!"
A colossal roar erupted. Everyone chanted Trump's name, and the entire venue descended into absolute pandemonium. After basking in the attention and thoroughly enjoying his moment of bliss, Trump spoke.
"Alright. So, what's your answer?"
"Indeed, this seems like the perfect moment to address it. Just how great of an actor I am."
Sion stood up, maintaining a brief, deliberate silence to draw in the fans' undivided attention. Unlike Trump, who bought people's attention with money, Sion Lee was a man who moved the hearts of his fans by his sheer existence. His breathtaking beauty, his immense influence, and his value as an actor were far grander than any printed greenback.
"Exactly as great as the cheers of the fans gathered here today."
The ensuing roar reverberated through the entire theater like a thunderclap. Trump beamed broadly, clapping his hands in admiration for Sion.
Inside Trump's luxury limousine.
"...So?" Sion asked, his tone cool and composed. "What is the reason you wanted to meet with me?"
Seated beside them were the star figures of the Miss USA pageant. Every single one of them was a tall, stunning beauty—likely the winners of the recent competition. And they, too, could not hide their awe at the sheer beauty of Sion Lee, who was dressed casually in a simple shirt. His sharp, straight nose and mysterious eyes made him look as flawless as a finely sculpted work of art.
Reading their reactions, Donald Trump pressed a button. With a whir, a strange mechanical dispenser operated, and a glass of Coca-Cola popped out in front of him.
"Hold on. Let's have a bite to eat before we talk. Coke?"
"Do you have any beer? I'm in the mood to get a little drunk."
"There are three things I absolutely never touch: alcohol, tobacco, and drugs. Do not ever let those three things ruin your beauty, Mr. Lee."
Faced with Trump's unexpectedly sound advice, Sion shrugged lightly. ...Though sugar isn't exactly great for you either, he thought to himself.
"I ordered a pizza. I told them to bake it slightly crunchy with a stuffed crust. It's loaded with pepperoni and extra cheese. How about we talk over that?"
"You're quite serious about your food."
"Of course. Man lives to eat."
Laughing heartily, he glanced at the women beside him as if they were some kind of commodity. Soon, the limousine pulled up in front of a Pizza Hut, and a piping hot, freshly baked pizza was delivered to the car by the chauffeur.
A violently delicious aroma filled the sealed vehicle. The two beauties, excluding Sion, swallowed hard like mere bystanders, while Trump picked up a slice and offered it to Sion.
"Here, this is for you."
"...Thank you."
Since the pizza had done nothing wrong, Sion accepted it. Ah, pizza. The great invention Americans stole from Italy. He took a bite. The rich grease of the cheese and pepperoni instantly coated his mouth. The slightly crunchy texture was indeed to his liking.
Curiously, however, Trump ate his pizza starting from the crust. And he gulped down his Coke, without offering any to the women sitting next to them.
Unable to watch any longer, Sion spoke up.
"Why don't you all have some pizza together?"
"Oh, no. I'm currently managing my weight."
"You look most beautiful right now. One slice won't hurt."
"Well... if you say so..."
The women accepted the pizza, pretending to be swayed. Watching this, Trump chuckled with amusement.
"They didn't budge when I offered. Now I see why so many powerful men have fallen to the honey trap."
"You're saying that to the two ladies next to you, not me, right?"
Having finished his slice, Sion naturally pressed the Coke button. The dispenser whirred again, popping out a fresh glass. Behaving as comfortably as if he were in his own home, he asked casually:
"Now that we've shared a pizza like good friends, why don't you tell me why you sought me out?"
"Naturally, because I want to work with you."
"If it's a film-related contract, please contact CK Agency, and we will handle it."
"No, not that..."
Trump, who had already finished his glass of Coke, reached for the button once more.
"Do you know what it is I actually do?"
"You're a businessman. Real estate."
"To put it more deeply, I am a man who recognizes and creates value."
He explained how he bought properties at cheap prices in places others failed to recognize, transforming them into valuable locations. The beauties sitting beside him were raw gems of the same nature. Trump boasted that they had been unrefined due to a lack of grooming, but because he recognized their value and polished them, they could now shine like diamonds.
"The times are about to change. As you already know, acting is no longer just acting. It's not just about being a performer anymore; you can now generate massive value based on your image."
"..."
Sion deliberately kept his words to himself. A long time from now, Donald Trump's name would appear on the list of various incidents orchestrated by Albert Payne. He might even be connected to him right now, which made Sion cautious. Although he figured they wouldn't dare touch him for a while after the previous incident involving Harvey Weinstein ended the way it did...
Surely this isn't one of Albert Payne's schemes.
"The bottom line is simple. If you and I team up, we can make a fortune."
Will he bite if I bait him? Probably not.
"How about a reality show to start? Trump & Lee's Beauty Quest! A show where we invite beauties from all over the world, judge them, and rank them. It would garner an absolutely astronomical amount of attention!"
The pure 'businessman' aura radiating from Trump made Sion's mind complicated for the first time in a while. After listening to him in silence, Sion asked point-blank.
"Why me? I'm doing quite well, but to a man like you, I should be a rather troublesome type."
"Oh, don't lump me in with those people, Mr. Lee."
Trump answered with an unexpectedly serious expression.
"Like the Rockefellers, the Vanderbilts, the DuPonts, or the Morgans. I am different from them. I succeeded in Queens purely on my own merit... of course, with a bit of help from my father. But I am different from those who have accumulated wealth over generations, rotting in it to the point where they can only feel pleasure through madness."
"Do you want to make even more money?"
"Hardly. I've made plenty. I simply want to win."
Ironically, despite achieving immense success, Trump still felt he was underappreciated compared to his actual abilities—especially when compared to families that had inherited their wealth like aristocrats for generations.
"Isn't a man's life all about continuous victory, Mr. Lee?"
Sion downed his Coke in one go and set the glass down.
"But you see..."
Those words solidified his conviction, and he finished a quick calculation. It was 'still' too early to show any nuance of cooperation.
"There are two problems."
"What are they?"
"First, our paths are different."
"And the other?"
"I'll leave that to your imagination."
Sion perfectly executed the art of speaking in a way that annoyed people.
"Pull over, please. I'll walk home."
"If you get out here, the crowd won't leave you alone."
"I'd rather take the bus than let the whole world know I'm associated with you by getting dropped off at my house in this car."
Hearing this, Trump let out an intrigued chuckle. Soon, the limousine came to a stop, and Sion stepped out right in the middle of Hollywood.
"..."
"...?"
The movements of the people who saw him instantly froze. One of Hollywood's greatest superstars had suddenly stepped out of a massive limousine. The sheer absurdity of the situation caused everyone's brains to short-circuit for a moment, and Sion calmly walked right past them.
Soon, snapping out of their daze, people began following Sion like zombies.
"Wait, Sion...!"
"I'm a huge fan! Seriously! Can I get an autograph?!"
"...Damn it, do I get no privacy at all?"
Watching Sion grumble as he rolled down the window, Trump turned to the beauty next to him.
"Throw that crystal glass toward Sion."
"Pardon?"
"Quickly. Do it."
"Oh... okay..."
A luxury crystal glass worth nearly a hundred dollars. It flew out the window and shattered with a sharp clink right where Sion had just walked.
The women thought Trump was furious because of Sion's rejection, but Trump's thoughts were the exact opposite. He was a natural-born businessman and director. As much as he enjoyed people's attention, he knew exactly where it was directed.
"This should do it."
Just as Sion wanted, Trump had staged a performance showing that there was no cozy alliance with the 'man of wealth.' And through this meeting, Trump had also reached a conviction and finished his own calculation.
That they actually suited each other quite well.