Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm Chapter 353 - 359: The Little Brat and the Old Bastard

The FBI supervisor stayed with Martin and Grant throughout the news broadcast.

After watching, he imdiately expressed his stance: "Mr. Martin, I fully believe in your innocence. Rest assured, my colleagues are just following protocol with a routine inquiry."

Martin waved his hand and said, "No rush. I have two more videos here. Perhaps you might want to take a look first."

He gestured to Gordon, who had been quietly standing in the living room without making his presence known. Gordon imdiately walked over, carrying a laptop, and placed it in front of the FBI supervisor.

Martin personally operated the computer and opened two video files on the desktop.

One video was from a police bodycam, showing in detail everything Martin and the police did at the warehouse. It also included Michael Gargiulo's attack on the police during his escape and a close-up of his body.

The other was warehouse surveillance footage, offering a bird's-eye view of the entire scene. It captured Michael Gargiulo attacking the police and charging at Lindsay Lohan, only to be kicked to death by Martin. While this footage lacked clarity and sound, it complented the first video.

The FBI supervisor glanced at Martin in surprise, then nodded. "I understand. There's no need for my team to co over. Martin, you're innocent. The evidence is irrefutable."

Martin smiled, patting the man's shoulder.

The middle-aged FBI supervisor showed an expression of excitent and gratitude, as though receiving encouragent from a superior. Grant, observing this, was baffled.

"Is my son's personal charm really this strong?!"

Of course, this was the effect of Martin's demonic aura.

Martin nodded and said, "Good. Take these two videos with you. It's better for the FBI to release them to the dia—more credible for the public."

"Understood. I'll notify the dia as soon as I return. These videos will air tonight. I'll take my leave now, Mr. Martin."

"Go ahead. And rember—get a good price for them!" Martin quipped.

The FBI supervisor gave a knowing smile. News this sensational? Major dia outlets would pay handsoly for it.

From noon until evening, the internet was in chaos.

Initially, Martin's fans dominated online discussions. Then, the dia—ever eager to stir the pot—interviewed Michael Gargiulo's father, Wilson Gargiulo.

The sight of an elderly father weeping on cara over his son's tragic death undoubtedly stirred public emotions.

It was clear that President Little Bush had intervened again.

Online debates turned evenly matched, with neither side gaining the upper hand.

That was until 8 PM, when the two videos provided by the FBI aired on ABC's priti news.

The truth ca to light.

Martin's heroic actions were proven beyond doubt.

Criticism of Martin vanished from the internet. How many of those dissenting voices had been Little Bush's hired trolls remained unknown.

A post titled "He's Not a Killer, He's a Hero!!!" climbed to the top of Yahoo's forums.

The post declared:

"From Martin shooting a cheetah to save Peter Jackson and his friends, to saving Michael Jackson at the German charity concert, to risking his life during a bank robbery to rescue three girls, and now to killing a murderer to protect Lindsay...

Martin has never been a killer. Every ti he acted, it was out of necessity. He's like a superhero in the comics, risking his life to protect those around him!"

"And yet, such a person is being slandered?!"

"Utterly laughable!"

"Batman has faced slander. Spider-Man has faced slander. Even Iron Man has faced slander... In both comics and reality, why do we always hurt our superheroes?!"

"Is it due to the sches of malicious individuals? Or the blind obedience of ignorant masses?"

"To those who question, mock, and insult: listen carefully—

No matter what, we will not let our superheroes be hard again. Let's stand together to protect Martin, our superhero!

"In reality, I may just be a small, insignificant person. But online, my keyboard is my weapon. I stand for Martin!"

Below the post were countless replies, building to over ten thousand comnts:

"No matter what, I stand for Martin!"

"No matter what, I stand for Martin!"

"No matter what, I stand for Martin!"

Martin saw the post and imdiately called Ivanka. "Was this post made by our team? Well done!"

Ivanka, sounding slightly embarrassed, replied, "It wasn't. It's a spontaneous post by a fan. We just pushed the post to higher visibility. Honestly, even without us, it would've gone viral!"

She then spoke with growing excitent, "Martin, this incident led us to reassess your online support rate—it's a terrifying number. When it cos to building a digital presence, you're ahead of everyone. Your foresight is incredible."

She hesitated briefly before adding, "By the way... can we et tonight? I... I have so minor updates to, uh, report."

Upon hearing Martin agree on the phone, Ivanka pumped her fist in excitent.

That night's "work eting" was successful, progressive, and deeply aningful.

For the next seven days, Martin was swamped.

Following his coming-of-age ceremony, all his collected treasures had arrived, and he had to personally ensure their safekeeping.

One-on-one, three-on-one, four-player bouts, full tables... Whatever the situation, he was thoroughly exhausted.

Thankfully, as a succubus, he could endure. Were he an ordinary person, he'd already be buried, rather than heading to Washington to et Little Bush.

When Little Bush t Martin, he acted as though nothing had happened, as if the prior incident had nothing to do with him.

No matter what people said about Little Bush's IQ, his thick skin certainly qualified him to lead the United States.

"Welco, welco. It's a pity you didn't personally co to receive your dal last ti."

"Haha, I've been wanting to et you, Mr. Bush. Unfortunately, timing never worked out. Today, I finally have the chance. You're as dashing as ever—truly a forr soldier!"

Martin greeted him with the poise of a seasoned politician.

Internally, both n were disdainful of each other.

Little Bush:"This little brat!"

Martin:"This old bastard!"

With smiles all around, Little Bush invited Martin to sit. "Mr. Martin, I only have twenty minutes. What brings you here?"

"Mr. Bush, I heard the Texas Oil Group is bidding for offshore oil fields in the UAE..."

As they spoke, Martin subtly released his demonic aura.

Little Bush's expression shifted—from cordial, to shocked and angry, then back to cordial. By the end, they hugged like lifelong friends.

Martin left with a smile.

Getting Bush on his side was just part of the plan.

Since the other party made a move against him, Martin wouldn't let it slide. Compensation was in order.

Just monts ago, he had coaxed all the details about the UAE offshore oilfield bidding from Little Bush.

And since he had so spare cash lying around, why not join the ga?