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

For the next two days, Matthew was as busy as a spinning top.

He posted volunteer recruitment notices on Penn's campus forum, Twitter, and other major social media platforms. It must be said that Sean Penn's name certainly carries weight among young people these days. Within 24 hours, his inbox was overflowing with applications.

After screening, Matthew kept a group of volunteers. These young people were mostly law or political science students, full of enthusiasm and inexpensive…

Even free!

Some of them were assigned to Vincent to help with the tedious work of searching for legal documents; others took questionnaires to the streets to collect grassroots public opinion data.

They will continue to exist as a vital force after Sean leaves Pennsylvania.

But this is not enough.

For a legitimate election, these volunteers are merely foot soldiers. What Sean truly lacks is a strategist capable of orchestrating events, a seasoned veteran of political maneuvering.

Sean already had someone in mind. However, because he had other important matters to attend to, Matthew was tasked with making contact with this person.

At this moment, the air in an old-fashioned coffee shop on South Street is filled with the aroma of roasted coffee beans.

Matthew sat by the window, absentmindedly stirring his latte. Across from him, George Kelly, wearing reading glasses, awkwardly swiped his phone screen with one finger.

"Two million three hundred thousand followers..." Kelly looked at the number on Twitter and clicked his tongue in amazement. "And this is an account that was registered less than three months ago. Sean Penn is really muscular!"

After his exclamation, he put down his phone, took off his glasses, and looked at Matthew with gentle eyes.

"Matthew Chen, a top student in the history department at the University of Pennsylvania," Kelly asked with a smile. "Tell me, son, do you want to go into politics in the future?"

Matthew stopped stirring and thought for a few seconds.

"I'm still observing, Mr. Kelly. History tells us that politics is a melting pot, and few who go in come out clean. But I also feel that if you don't go in, you'll never change anything."

"Ambiguous, but honest." Kelly smiled. "You have the potential to be a politician. That struggle of wanting to maintain a clean image but having to get your hands dirty is, I've heard, a necessary step for every great politician."

"Well then, tell me. Why do you think I'd join this makeshift group?"

Matthew scratched his head awkwardly: "Actually... this was Mr. Pan's idea."

"Oh? What did he say?"

"He said..." Matthew hesitated, but decided to tell the truth, "He said that you came to us either because you have a crush on him or because you want to use him. And both of these will lead to the same result—you will help us."

By the end, Matthew's face was red. It was a rather narcissistic thing to say.

Kelly was stunned for a moment, then burst into a hearty laugh.

"Hahaha! Sean Penn, that kid really dares to dream!" Kelly laughed until tears streamed down his face. "Unrequited love? I'm practically in my coffin! But he's not wrong about exploiting this."

After laughing, Kelly put his glasses back on and his expression became serious.

"What he's really after is my political resources and connections. To him, an old man like me might not be of much use, but since I've come to him, he doesn't mind spending some time on me to see if he can squeeze out any remaining value. Isn't that right?"

"That may sound harsh, but it makes sense logically," Matthew said, not denying his statement.

"Sean is a genius," Kelly commented. "He has a keen eye for people far beyond his years. He can tell who likes him and who doesn't, a talent that is very rare."

"However, I think he made a big mistake on the most important aspect of his campaign. That is ideology."

"Ideology?"

“Exactly. He thinks he’s a master manipulator, able to play both sides, and even wants to transcend party lines to represent so-called ‘pure public opinion.’” Kelly shook his head. “But in the American political landscape, there’s never been a true centrist. You’re either red or blue. If you try to become purple, you’ll end up being torn apart by both sides.”

"Really?" Matthew couldn't help but retort. "I believe history can be rewritten. Maybe Sean can find a third way?"

“You’re an idealist, kid,” Kelly said, looking at him. “So, what do you think your own ideology leans towards?”

"Perhaps it's a kind of...new nationalism?" Matthew tentatively suggested, "like Theodore Roosevelt, strengthening state power, curbing capital, and ensuring fairness."

“Theodore…” Kelly sighed. “He was indeed a great man, but in this era, he’s outdated. Or rather, the current Republican Party no longer recognizes him as its ancestor.”

"Of course, I might be even more outdated," Kelly chuckled self-deprecatingly. "My ideology is probably something you can't accept."

Matthew was puzzled. "What does this mean?"

"Do you know my real name?" Kelly suddenly asked.

"Isn't it George Kelly?"

“No, that was changed later,” Kelly said softly. “My birth name is Wisnevitsky. That was the name of one of my Russian ancestors. And Kelly is the surname of that ancestor’s wife. Her full name was Florence Kelly.”

As a history student, Matthew's mind works incredibly fast.

"Florence Kelly? That famous social reformer? She was one of the first people in America to translate the works of Karl and Friedrich."

“That’s right.” Kelly nodded. “They later divorced, and Florence returned to the United States with the children, but kept her husband’s surname. And I am a member of that family.”

Matthew looked at the well-dressed old man in front of him and was speechless for a moment.

"When I was young, I was a radical leftist," Kelly recalled. "Philadelphia was much more radical back then than it is now. I also changed back to my ancestral surname, Wisnewitzky, and was proud of it."

"Until 1985, when the MOVE organization was destroyed by that fire," Kelly's voice lowered. "That tragedy changed everything. I also chose to 'accept the offer.' I joined the Democratic Party and started playing those dirty games."

"I helped several mayors win elections and watched them transform from idealists into politicians. But when the Occupy Wall Street movement broke out, I suddenly felt exhausted. So I chose to leave."

Kelly looked at Matthew, her eyes filled with a variety of emotions.

"My roots are red, child. Even though I may look like a gentle old man now, radical blood still flows in my veins."

"Tell me, am I your enemy or your friend?"

Matthew fell silent.

……

The ballroom on the second floor of the Sheraton Philadelphia Hotel.

This place has been transformed into a temporary press conference venue. The audience is full of reporters, their cameras and microphones pointed at the empty podium.

In the backstage dressing room, Sean was adjusting his tie.

Daniel Brown pushed the door open and came in, his expression still not good.

"Pan, the forensic results for that menthol cigarette butt are in," Brown said, getting straight to the point. "Although we didn't get any complete DNA, the activity of the salivary enzymes indicates it was left recently, probably about three days before we went to the scene."

"That means someone did go back before I went to the site."

“That’s right,” Brown admitted. “This confirms your theory: the perpetrator returned to the scene. And based on that brand’s audience analysis, it’s highly likely they are Black.”

"What about the list?"

"I've checked the list Marcus provided too," Brown frowned. "Several hundred people, and the vast majority have alibis. They were having a barbecue party at the union that day... playing cards, and they can all vouch for each other. Only a few people left midway through, or called in sick."

"Have those people been investigated?"

"We're investigating. But we haven't found any clues yet," Brown said irritably. "It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Then keep digging." Sean turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. "Don't overlook any detail. Even if it's just that they bought a pack of cigarettes that day, or made a phone call to someone."

"Are you ordering me around?" Brown retorted, annoyed.

Although he was very unhappy, his favorability towards Sean had already dropped to -10.

Sean straightened his tie, turned around, and wore that confident smile on his face.

"If it's possible, that day will come, Officer Brown. At that time, I won't just be giving you orders."

Brown looked at him, snorted coldly, and said nothing more.

"Alright, it's my turn to go on stage." Sean patted Brown on the shoulder. "Remember to applaud me from the audience."

……

"Snap! Snap!"

The moment Sean stepped onto the stage, the flashbulbs turned the room into daylight.

He smiled and waved to the audience, as composed as if he were walking the Oscars red carpet.

Good afternoon, friends from the media, and citizens of Philadelphia.

Sean's voice, resonating through the microphone, was magnetic and resolute.

"The past two months have felt like a fantastical journey for me. I came to Philadelphia from Los Angeles, initially just looking for a new life. But I never imagined I would fall so deeply in love with this city."

"I saw the plight of Chinatown, so I stood up. I saw the pain of the community being squeezed by capital, so I spoke out. I'm honored that we succeeded. The 76ers' new arena plans are temporarily on hold, and this is not only my victory, but a victory for every Philly!"

A round of applause erupted from the audience.

"However," Sean's expression turned serious, "in the process, I also encountered unprecedented slander and attacks."

"Some have accused me of inciting riots, others have said I'll do anything for the election. Some have even suggested that the attack on the police car was a staged farce."

"To this, I have only one thing to say: I have no fear."

Sean rested his hands on the podium, his gaze sweeping across the entire room.

"Because I believe in the law, I believe in justice, and I believe even more in the judgment of history. I have decided to fully cooperate with the Philadelphia Police Department, not only to clear my name, but also to find the real mastermind. I swear to the Delaware River, I will give Philadelphia the truth!"

"I know this road is difficult. I know there will be people hiding in the shadows, waiting to see me fall. But I will not back down. Because I know you are standing behind me!"

"Standing there are millions of ordinary people who yearn for change and fairness!"

"As long as we stand together, nothing can defeat us!"

Thank you everyone!

The speech ended, and the audience erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.

During the subsequent Q&A session, Sean answered fluently, turning every pointed question into an opportunity to showcase his charm.

The press conference ended half an hour later.

Sean walked out of the banquet hall escorted by bodyguards, feeling his shirt soaked with sweat.

Just as he was about to get into the elevator, a figure blocked his way.

It was a woman, wearing an ordinary beige trench coat and glasses, without a press pass.

But Sean recognized her at a glance.

"Sean, you...you don't expect to lure the killer out by holding a press conference, do you?" Rachel Jones looked at Sean breathlessly.

"Rachel, what are you doing here? You've missed your question time!" Sean didn't answer her directly, instead giving her a gentle smile. "Next time I'll prepare a real big scoop for you."

Rachel paused for a moment, then said awkwardly, "No need, I've been fired. Sean, now I'm going to give you some big news."