Inside the high-altitude executive suite of Global Stream's Los Angeles headquarters, the silence was thick enough to choke on. Simon Miller, the General Manager of the Marketing Department, sat paralyzed at his mahogany desk. He had spent the last hour watching the fourth episode of Jujutsu Kaisen on a loop, the blue light of the "Infinite Void" reflecting in his eyes like a digital ghost.
His phone, a sleek device that usually brought him news of million-dollar acquisitions, was vibrating with a name that made his stomach drop: Mark Harrison. The CEO.
Simon answered on the third ring, his voice trembling slightly. "Cousin? Is there something wrong so late?"
The voice on the other end was like dry ice - sharp, cold, and utterly unforgiving. "I told you, Simon. Do not call me 'cousin' when we are discussing billions of dollars. And yes, something is very wrong. I've just finished reading the final contract details for the Leo Vance deal. You're the one who signed off on a seventy-thirty revenue split?"
Simon felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. "Yes, sir! We saved eighty million dollars on the upfront licensing fee! At the time, Leo Vance was a liability, a tabloid disaster. I thought I was protecting the platform by shifting the risk to him!"
"Protecting the platform?" Harrison's voice rose an octave, a rare sign of his temper. "You idiot. You didn't save eighty million. You gave away the keys to the vault. Look at the numbers! As of ten minutes ago, Jujutsu Kaisen has surpassed four billion views globally. With a seventy percent backend share, Leo Vance isn't just an actor anymore; he's a sovereign state. We are essentially working for him now."
Mark Harrison was a man who had built his empire on ruthlessness and a keen eye for talent. He had been an avid fan of wuxia gritty action cinema in his youth, but he'd spent the last five years watching Hollywood produce nothing but safe, focus-grouped garbage. Jujutsu Kaisen was the first time he had felt that spark again - the raw, unadulterated passion of a creator who knew exactly how to manipulate an audience's soul.
"He's a genius," Harrison muttered, almost to himself. "And geniuses are expensive. No matter what it costs, Simon, we need the rights to the next season. We need the merchandise. We need the movie rights. If Leo Vance walks to a competitor because of your incompetence, I'll ensure you never manage a lemonade stand in this town again."
"I understand, Mr. Harrison!" Simon squeaked. "I'll fix it. I'll open negotiations immediately!"
Starlight Management, West Hollywood.
The mood in the agency's private theater was the polar opposite of the corporate dread at Global Stream. It was electric. It was chaotic. It was, in a word, obsessed.
"He is a God. There is no other word for it," Della Rose declared, her voice echoing in the plush room. She was staring at a still frame of Gojo Satoru's crystalline blue eyes. "I'm changing my official Instagram bio. I don't care what the PR team says. I am a Gojo devotee from this moment forward."
"Della, be serious," Julian Cross said, though his own eyes were fixed on the screen. "The kid beat up a director two years ago. He was a 'Hellraiser.' You can't just ignore the baggage because he has a good stylist."
"A 'good stylist'?" Natalie G. scoffed, leaning forward with a wicked grin. "Julian, be real. No stylist can give a man that aura. And about that director he hit, Victor? I heard the rumors. The guy was a notorious predator. Leo didn't hit him because he's a brat; he hit him because the guy was trying to corner a nineteen-year-old extra in his trailer. If anything, Leo is a hero with a bad PR manager."
"An old pervert?" Julian muttered, his posture sagging slightly. "If that's true... then Leo Vance has been playing the villain for two years to protect people. That's... that's actually incredible."
Maya West, the CEO of Starlight, sat in the center of the madness, her thoughts spinning. She had signed Leo as a massive personal favor to his sister, Lauren Vance. She had expected him to fade away into obscurity, perhaps doing a few D-list horror movies before retiring to a yacht. Instead, he had produced a cultural earthquake.
"Wait," Della said, her face suddenly turning into a mask of pure frustration. "Maya! You have his private cell! Why won't he accept my DMs?! I've sent him nine messages! I even sent him a selfie of me in my Oscars dress to prove it was really me, and he called me a 'catfish bot' before blocking my account!"
The room erupted into laughter. The idea of the most beautiful woman in Hollywood being blocked for being a "bot" by the very man she was thirsting after was the comedy hit of the season.
"He's... he's certainly unique," Maya said, wiping a tear from her eye. "Della, he probably thinks no A-lister would actually be that desperate."
Vibrate, vibrate, vibrate!
Maya's phone buzzed on the armrest. She looked at the screen, and her heart skipped a beat. She immediately made a sharp, frantic "shushing" gesture, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. "Everyone, shut up! It's Leo Vance!"
Della Rose practically teleported to Maya's side, her head pressed against the CEO's shoulder, her breathing shallow as she waited to hear the voice that had haunted her dreams for the last three days.
"Hello? Leo?" Maya said, trying to maintain her "cool CEO" facade despite her pulse hammering in her ears.
"Hey, Maya. It's Leo," the voice was effortless, lazy, and utterly magnetic. "Listen, do you have some time tomorrow around 4:00 PM? I'd like to stop by the tower. I've decided to move forward with the termination clause in my contract. I figured it's better to sign the papers in person than have our lawyers play tag."
Maya's face went pale. The room, which had been buzzing with excitement, felt like the temperature had dropped twenty degrees. He was leaving. At the very peak of his fame, he was walking away from the biggest agency in the city.
"Termination?" Maya managed to say. "Leo, we should talk about this. The agency can offer you--"
"I know what you can offer, Maya," Leo interrupted gently. "But I have my own path. I'll see you tomorrow at four. Don't make it a funeral, okay? I'm just moving into a new office."
When the line went dead, Della Rose looked like she was about to cry. "He's leaving us? He's officially the biggest thing in Hollywood and he's dumping us?!"
But then, a glint of predatory ambition appeared in her eyes. "Wait. He said tomorrow. At four. He's coming here."
"I'm going to spend all night at the spa," Della declared, her voice filled with newfound determination. "I'm going to wear that red Alexander McQueen piece. If tomorrow is the last time he's a Starlight client, I'm going to make sure he never forgets the face of the woman he blocked!"
Julian Cross stood up, adjusting his watch. "I'm going to the gym. I need a pump before I meet him. If the Hellraiser thinks he's the only 'Strongest' in this building, he's got another thing coming."
Maya West watched her stars scatter, a weary smile on her lips. She knew Hollywood history. She knew that when a talent like Leo Vance decided to go independent, the industry was about to change. She wasn't just losing a client; she was watching the birth of a rival.
The next day, the news of Leo's arrival had spread through the Starlight tower like a contagion.
Della had leaked it to her "Inner Circle" chat, and by noon, the janitors, the interns, and the high-level agents were all buzzing. Jujutsu Kaisen had fundamentally rewritten the legend of Leo Vance. He wasn't the "Hellraiser" anymore. He was the Architect of Infinite Void.
As 4:00 PM approached, the lobby began to fill with people who were "conveniently" having meetings near the front desk. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and nervous anticipation. They wanted to see if the "Six Eyes" were just CGI, or if Leo Vance was truly the divine creature they saw on their screens.
Leo, meanwhile, was currently sitting in a Didi, wearing a pair of five-dollar sunglasses and a T-shirt that had seen better days, blissfully unaware that he was about to walk into a building that was ready to worship him.