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

Marcus was the first person to make Sean doubt his own cheat ability; he was the first to have such a thought:

People who have a high opinion of you are not necessarily your friends, and people who have a low opinion of you are not necessarily your enemies.

So after taking Marcus away, he didn't return to the campaign office. Instead, he spent two whole days working with Daniel Brown and his incompetent henchmen, almost forgetting about the campaign altogether, as a stronger emotion took over.

He desperately wanted to sense the emotional fluctuations of those around him, and for the first time, he chose not to use this cheat code to judge friend from foe.

As a result, the numbers above people's heads stopped appearing.

Or rather, it has become controllable.

But this time, he chose to use it again.

Marcus, dressed in a simple black suit, walked up to the witness stand. His face was expressionless, and his eyes stared blankly ahead. The number above his head remained firmly displayed: [30].

Madison and the judges, among others, are between [10] and [20].

"What a joke, are they going to testify for the prosecution instead of me?" Sean thought to himself.

"Mr. Williams," Prosecutor Madison, completely oblivious to Sean's ulterior motives, continued doing his job, "you are a member of the Philadelphia Transport Workers Union and were in charge of organizing this year's Martin Luther King Jr. Day celebrations, right?"

"Yes." Marcus's voice was as calm as a stagnant pool.

"Did the defendant, Sean Penn, attend your party that day?"

"Yes."

"Yes," the prosecutor nodded in satisfaction, but his voice suddenly turned serious: "Mr. Williams, do you know the three suspects who have been arrested?"

Marcus replied, "I've seen them. Because the union is small, everyone knows each other."

"Are you aware that these three people are listed as 'present' on the party attendance sheet you provided?"

"Yes."

"But according to the police investigation, these three people were clearly not present at the time of the incident." Madison pressed on, "Mr. Williams, did you deliberately fabricate alibis for them?"

Marcus raised his head and looked directly at the prosecutor.

"I invoke the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution and refuse to answer this question."

The courtroom erupted in uproar.

Madison was clearly prepared: "Mr. Williams, the court has granted you a limited immunity. Your testimony will not be used against you personally. Please answer the questions."

Marcus lowered his head and remained silent for a long time.

Finally, he spoke:

"Yes. I knew they weren't there. I tampered with the sign-in sheet."

The audience erupted in uproar.

"Silence!" Judge O'Brien banged his gavel several times.

"Mr. Williams," Madison pressed, "why did you do this? Who instructed you?"

Marcus fell silent again.

"Mr. Williams, answer the question."

Marcus raised his head, his gaze passing over the prosecutor, past Sean at the defense table, and towards some unseen distance behind the courtroom.

"I did this because..." he paused, "because they are my brothers. In this world, if Black people don't help each other, no one will help us."

"I don't know why they stole that police car. I don't know who hired them. All I know is that when they came to me for help, I couldn't refuse. I even helped them clean up the mess."

That's why he said he saw that evidence...

"As for who's behind it all..." Marcus's voice grew even lower, "I really don't know. They didn't tell me, and I didn't ask."

The prosecutor was clearly dissatisfied with this answer: "Mr. Williams, you claim you don't know who's behind this, but have you seen the stolen evidence?"

Marcus froze, yet everyone awaited his answer. One second, two seconds, three seconds… he remained silent.

"Answer the questions," the prosecutor said, unable to contain himself any longer.

"...I've seen it before."

"Under what circumstances did you see it?"

"..."

"Mr. Williams! We have your recorded statement. If you don't mind wasting more time, we can..."

"Okay! They hid things in my house," Marcus finally admitted. "I disposed of the evidence, that's all."

So, Prosecutor Madison turned to the judge:

"Your Honor, the witness testimony indicates that he not only fabricated an alibi for the suspect but also participated in concealing and destroying stolen goods. While this does not directly prove the defendant Sean Penn's involvement, it suggests a more complex behind-the-scenes operation in this case. We request the court to grant an extension of the investigation period to allow for a more thorough investigation."

"No? You want to extend it?" Sean clicked his tongue in surprise.

On the other side, Vincent immediately stood up: "Your Honor, I object! The prosecution called this witness to prove that my client was involved in the attack. But the witness's testimony proves the opposite: my client has a clear alibi for the time of the incident, and although the sign-in sheet was tampered with, the tampering was done to protect the three suspects, not my client."

"More importantly, the witness personally admitted that he had seen the stolen evidence. This evidence is supposedly a 'signed document' that is detrimental to my client. But I ask the court, if the witness had access to this evidence, under what circumstances was it 'manufactured'? How credible is it?"

"I request the court to dismiss all of the prosecution's charges because they have failed to produce any direct evidence linking my client to the fraud or assault allegations!"

A brief silence fell over the courtroom.

Judge O'Brien looked at the case file in front of him and tapped his gavel.

"The court will adjourn for thirty minutes. I need to consider the statements of both sides."

Vincent let out a heavy sigh of relief and then looked at Sean Penn.

Although he didn't say anything, Sean still read his meaning from his eyes:

"Don't worry, Mr. Pan. Everything will be alright."

……

Thirty minutes later.

"Everyone stand up!"

Judge O'Brien sat down again, her expression serious and solemn.

"After deliberation, this court hereby makes the following ruling on the charges brought by the prosecution."

She opened a document and began to read:

"Regarding the first charge, conspiracy to commit fraud, the prosecution failed to provide sufficient evidence to prove that the defendant was aware of or participated in the fraudulent activities of the Avalon Foundation. The defendant's participation in charitable activities and his statements of support cannot be equated with conspiracy to commit fraud. This court finds the evidence insufficient and will not proceed to trial."

"Regarding the second charge, conspiracy to obstruct justice, the prosecution failed to provide any direct evidence linking the defendant to the assault on police officers on January 15. On the contrary, the evidence shows that the defendant had a clear alibi at the time of the incident and actively cooperated with the police investigation afterward. This court finds that the evidence is insufficient and the case will not be transferred to trial."

Judge O'Brien closed the document and looked at the entire room.

"Based on the above reasons, this court dismisses all charges brought by the prosecution against the defendant, Sean Henry Penn. The defendant is released in court immediately, and any previous travel restrictions are lifted immediately."

She struck the gavel.

"Court adjourned!"

A burst of cheers and applause erupted from the audience, mixed with some boos of discontent.

Sean stood up, shook hands with Vincent, and hugged him. At that moment, a genuine smile finally appeared on his face.

Officer Brown stood in the corner of the gallery, watching this scene with a complex mix of emotions. He had originally intended to drag Sean into this mess, even to pin the blame on him, but who knew this guy was so adept at finding evidence?

When he reported this to the bureau chief, the bureau chief, after careful consideration, told him, "Withdraw. Don't touch this person anymore. The big shots have their own judgment." After that, he had nothing more to say.

It seems he really is going to personally present Sean Penn with an award. But before that, he needs to find a way to get the suspects to talk.

……

At the entrance of the courthouse.

When Sean stepped out the door, he was greeted by even more frenzied flashes of light and an even more enthusiastic crowd.

Some people were cheering, some were waving signs that read "Support Sean Penn," and others were shouting slogans.

These are all his supporters!

Somewhat excited, Sean walked to the makeshift podium, faced the numerous cameras, raised his fist, and said:

"Today, justice has been served."

His voice carried throughout the square through the loudspeaker.

"I want to thank the court for its fair ruling, thank my lawyer, Mr. Vincent Carter, and thank everyone who has supported me during this difficult time."

"The past period has been a severe test for me. I have been suspected, slandered, and attacked by people hiding in the shadows in various ways. They want to break me down, to shut me up, and to turn me into a puppet that can be manipulated at will."

"But they failed!"

A cheer erupted from the crowd.

"Today, I stand here not to celebrate a victory, but to remind everyone that in America, every citizen has the right to be treated fairly. Whether you are a Hollywood star or a truck driver; whether you are white, black, Asian, or any other race; whether you support the Republican Party or the Democratic Party, we are all equal before the law."

"I still don't know who planned that attack on the police officer, or who was behind it all. But I swear I will continue to investigate until the truth comes to light."

"Because I believe that this country is not built on lies and conspiracies. It is built on the Constitution, on the idea that 'all men are created equal,' on you, and on the vote of every ordinary American!"

Thank you everyone, and may...

He gave himself a few seconds to hesitate, but finally said:

"God bless America!"

In that instant, the applause and cheers almost lifted the square up.

Sean waved and was about to leave the podium when a familiar figure squeezed to the front of the crowd.

It's Rachel Jones.

She wasn't holding a recorder or camera; she just looked at Sean with a complicated gaze and then made a subtle gesture: she pointed to her phone.

Sean immediately understood and nodded slightly.

Just as he was about to be escorted away by bodyguards, an unexpected voice rang out from the crowd.

"Mr. Pan! Please wait a moment!"

The crowd automatically parted to form a passage.

A middle-aged man in a dark suit with a stern face walked up. Behind him were two attendants, also dressed in suits.

As Sean looked at this person, a sense of foreboding rose in his heart.

"I'm Marvin Garcia, the chief attorney general of the U.S. Attorney's Office for the Southern District of New Jersey," the man introduced himself with a smile. "When McFarlane mentioned you, he said you... well, you're rather straightforward."

"What do you want to say?" Sean smiled insincerely, then predicted that the other party's favorability towards him should be between [0] and [10].

The result was unexpected; it turned out to be that damned [11]!

"Congratulations on your victory in the Pennsylvania case, Mr. Pan. But I regret to inform you..."

He pulled a document from his briefcase and handed it to Sean.

"This is a subpoena just issued by a New Jersey grand jury. You are accused of inciting riots in New Jersey through various channels in January of this year."

"Please appear in the U.S. District Court in Newark, New Jersey, within seven days. If you attempt to evade..." Garcia's smile grew even colder, "we would be happy to send a U.S. Marshals to pick you up."

Sean took the summons and looked up. When he met Garcia's malicious eyes, he simply smiled.

"Thank you for coming all the way from New Jersey to deliver this in person, Mr. Prosecutor. I hope you didn't speed, because I've heard that tickets in New Jersey are very expensive."

Garcia's smile froze for a moment.

"See you in seven days, Mr. Pan." He turned and left, leaving behind the words, "Enjoy your last moments of freedom."

Vincent watched Garcia's retreating figure and sighed wearily, "Pan, we'll win, won't we?"

"We'll win," Sean said confidently. "God created the world in seven days, and we only need to deal with a bunch of scoundrels."

He didn't even know how to lose!

Instead of wasting time on this, why not add a bright red flower to his campaign?