America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

December 31, Pennsylvania time.

New Year's Eve.

After returning from the Chinese restaurant, Sean originally planned to rest well that day and make some preparations for the upcoming New Year.

But fate clearly had other plans.

He was woken up by his phone vibrating at six in the morning.

The screen displayed Rachel Jones's number.

"Rachel? Calling so early, what happened?" Sean asked groggily, his morning grumpiness making him unwilling to say a word.

"Sean, have you seen the news?" Rachel asked eagerly.

"No, I just woke up. What major international event has happened?"

"Turn on the TV, CNN, now."

Sean frowned, picked up the remote, and turned on the old television in the hotel room.

The scene switches to a CNN news studio, where a blonde female anchor is broadcasting:

"...The FBI announced early this morning that it has made significant progress in its investigation of the Avalon Foundation. According to sources, investigators have obtained key evidence proving that former child actor Sean Penn played a central role in the foundation's operations, rather than being a 'victim of exploitation' as he previously claimed."

"Meanwhile, more victims of the Avalon Foundation are coming forward. Today, Philadelphia officials will hold a press conference to allow victims to publicly recount their experiences..."

Sean's face darkened. "Rachel, what's going on? Fake news?"

That's strange. Didn't the FBI let him go? Why did they investigate him again so quickly? Instead of asking him for the list, they pulled this stunt?

"It's not fake news, but I don't know the specifics either," Rachel said. "But this doesn't seem like normal investigative progress. The FBI doesn't usually release this many details to the media during an investigation, unless..."

"Unless someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes," Sean continued.

“That’s right,” Rachel said. “Sean, I think someone is targeting you.”

"Is someone targeting me? Tell me something I don't know!"

"Let me finish," Rachel continued. "What's worse, I just received word that this afternoon, the Pennsylvania Attorney General's office will hold a press conference to announce criminal charges against you. The charges are fraud and conspiracy."

"What?" Sean's voice rose several decibels. "What evidence do they have, and right here in Pennsylvania? Right here in Philadelphia? Is there any federal law on this? Isn't this deep-sea fishing?"

"Sean, the Avalon Foundation is a national issue. And my sources say the state attorney general has obtained a crucial document and has come all the way from Harrisburg to Philadelphia. He's expected to stay here for quite some time."

"That document is supposedly an agreement you personally signed, proving that you knew the true nature of the Avalon Foundation. And that so-called list of yours simply doesn't exist."

Sean's brain was working at lightning speed.

He searched through the original owner's memories, trying to find any documents that could be used as evidence.

The original owner had indeed signed many contracts, but most of them were promotional contracts and endorsement agreements. As for the so-called "key agreement," he had absolutely no recollection of it.

It's either a forgery, or the original owner, that big idiot, signed it while in a state of mental instability.

Either way, it's a tricky situation.

"Rachel, what are your sources?"

"X and YouTube."

"..." Sean fell silent. "Could you help me trace the origin of that document from your sources?"

"I'll do my best. But Sean, you'd better find a lawyer now. A good one."

"I don't have the money to hire a lawyer right now," Sean said with a wry smile. "And who would be willing to defend me? Saul Goodman?"

Even Saul Goodman might not be able to help him!

"Then you'd better figure something out." Rachel's tone sounded serious, clearly not in the mood for banter. "Because if the prosecutor really charges you, you might not even get bail. Those people are obviously trying to escalate things, turning you from an accomplice into the mastermind."

After hanging up the phone, Sean sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the TV screen.

So, does this mean I have to go to Boss Ma again? To be honest, he's already paid off quite a few of my bills, but what does it matter? That damn capitalist! Before I transmigrated, I was always lagging when I tried to use X (a payment platform), isn't that enough to justify demanding compensation for emotional distress?

Just then, the news footage switched to a group of people standing in front of Philadelphia City Hall. They were holding signs with slogans such as "Liars must go to jail."

An elderly woman with gray hair is being interviewed; her eyes are red and her voice is choked with emotion.

"My husband invested our life savings in the Avalon Fund because he trusted Sean Penn. He said that the child came from a family like ours, and he wouldn't lie to us."

"But he did it anyway. He swindled our money and then went to Hollywood to live a life of luxury. My husband died of a heart attack last year, and he was still talking about that money before he died."

"I only have one question for Sean Penn: Do you sleep well at night?"

To be honest, I slept very soundly.

Sean turned off the TV.

He knew that the victims' anger was genuine. They had indeed been deceived and had indeed lost everything.

But he also knew that the timing of the press conference was too coincidental. It came on the same day the FBI announced "major developments," and on the same day the prosecutor was preparing to indict him.

This is a meticulously planned propaganda offensive.

Someone wants to destroy him completely before the New Year arrives.

Sean's phone rang again.

This time it was an unfamiliar number.

"Feed?"

"Mr. Pan, this is James Wilson, Assistant Attorney General's Office of Pennsylvania." The voice on the other end of the phone was very formal. "I'm calling to inform you that the Attorney General will announce the indictment against you at a press conference at 3 p.m. today."

"As part of the process, we would like you to turn yourself in to the Philadelphia Police Department by 10:00 a.m. tomorrow. If you cooperate, we may consider granting you some assistance with your bail."

"What if I don't cooperate?" Sean asked.

"Then we will apply for an arrest warrant." Wilson's tone turned cold. "Mr. Pan, I advise you not to try to escape. You are now the focus of national attention, and wherever you run, you will be found."

"Okay, I'm not planning on running away," Sean said. "But I'd like to know, what is your evidence?"

"Your lawyer will get an answer to that question at the appropriate time," Wilson said. "Happy New Year, Mr. Pan."

The phone hangs up.

Sean, holding his phone, said, "Fuck you, Pennsylvania is a rotten place."

This is not an ordinary legal process; it is a political assassination.

They chose to act on New Year's Eve to put him in a vulnerable position. Generally, courts are closed and lawyers are off work during the New Year holidays, but the media continues to report on the events.

By the time the holiday ended, public opinion had completely turned against him.

By then, even if he has a lot of evidence, it will be very difficult to overturn the verdict.

Sean stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window, people were already setting up New Year's decorations on the streets of Philadelphia. Colorful lights, balloons, banners, and the traditional Philadelphia New Year's puppet parade—everything looked so festive.

But for him, this New Year might be spent in a prison cell.

Things were clearly getting better, but they turned out like this.

What should he do now? Find a lawyer, or turn himself in?