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

Chapter 89 We Need to Invite a Divine Person

Los Angeles International Airport, 2:15 p.m.

As the Boeing 737 that had taken off from Philadelphia slowly landed on the runway, Sean looked out the window at the sun-drenched land, his feelings a mix of emotions.

California. This is where he lived for nearly ten years, where he rose to fame, and where he fell to rock bottom. Now, he's coming back.

"Mr. Pan, we've arrived," Matthew's voice came from beside him.

"I know." Sean looked away. "Let's go."

The five of them disembarked from business class one by one. Vincent was wearing his usual dark suit and carrying a briefcase; Rachel, on the other hand, was wearing sunglasses and looked like a vacationer.

George Kelly was wearing a casual jacket, and lastly Matthew Chan was carrying a large backpack and holding a tablet.

As for Sean himself, he wore a baseball cap and sunglasses, covering himself up completely to minimize the chances of being recognized.

"Son, where's our car?" Kelly asked Matthew.

"It's in the parking lot, I've already arranged everything." Matthew looked at the information on his tablet. "It's a black Chevrolet Suburban, the license plate is—"

"Don't read it aloud," Kelly said, worried that someone might be overheard. "Let's go."

The five people made their way through the airport crowd to the parking lot. Sure enough, a low-key black SUV was parked there, driven by a taciturn middle-aged white man who looked like a professional security guard.

"Matthew, where did you find this car?" Sean asked Matthew after getting into the car.

"Uh—" Matthew scratched his head, "It was provided by Mr. Musk. He said he would cover all your travel and accommodation expenses during your stay in California."

Sean raised an eyebrow: "The prison guards are quite generous."

"It wasn't just Mr. Musk," Matthew continued, "there were other people—social figures—who also offered their support. They said they supported your cause and wanted to do their part for your campaign."

"What kind of social figures?" Vincent asked warily.

“They’ve all been vetted, Mr. Carter,” Matthew quickly explained. “Their backgrounds are clean, there’s nothing suspicious about them. And they’ve all signed confidentiality agreements, so they won’t disclose any information about Mr. Pan’s itinerary.”

"That would be for the best," Kelly hummed in a low voice.

"So where will we live?" Sean asked again, a little nostalgic for his own house.

"A private residence in Pasadena," Matthew replied. "The location is relatively secluded, surrounded by upscale neighborhoods, and the security is excellent. This is my first time arranging something like this, so I hope there won't be any major issues."

"Well done," Kelly said, unusually, "better than I expected."

A shy smile appeared on Matthew's face.

"I can stay in my house," Rachel suggested from the side.

"That's your personal freedom, Miss Jones." Kelly neither agreed nor disagreed; he merely glanced at Rachel before turning to Sean.

"Alright, be careful, Rachel." Sean agreed with her suggestion. "Then the accommodation problem is solved. Now—" Kelly turned to Sean, "Don't forget, Pan. You're going to a party in Hollywood tonight at eight."

"What kind of party?" Sean didn't quite remember.

"It was a private party in the film industry," Kelly said. "It was mostly producers, directors, and actors. Even though you've been away from Hollywood for a long time, your old friends still wanted to see you."

"Old friends?" Sean sneered. "You mean those friends who all ran away when I was down on my luck? I don't know of any friends I have."

"That's precisely why you should go," Kelly said casually. "Let them see that you're doing better than them now. Sean Penn in politics is far more valuable than a washed-up child star in Hollywood."

What kind of "Dragon King Returns" script is this? There's definitely no drama involved in politics!

Sean was silent for a moment, then nodded and said, "Okay, I'll go."

"But before that," Kelly glanced at his watch, "we'll go to Caltech first."

"Caltech?" Sean asked, puzzled. "What are we going there for?"

"Go check out your opponent." Kelly's lips curled into a smile. "Charlie Kirk is setting up his ring over there today. I think you should see his style for yourself, you know, know your enemy."

Half an hour later, the black SUV stopped on a street near Caltech.

-

"We're here." Kelly opened the car door. "Let's go."

Sean got out of the car with him. Rachel and Vincent wanted to follow, but Kelly waved them off.

"You guys stay in the car. Too many people will attract attention."

"But—" Rachel wanted to object.

"It's okay." Sean pulled down the brim of his baseball cap. "I'm all covered up, no one will recognize me."

Besides, I'm just going to take a look, not to cause trouble.

Rachel hesitated for a moment, but ultimately got back into the car.

Sean and Kelly walked along the sidewalk toward the campus.

Caltech's campus isn't large, but it exudes an academic atmosphere. Red-brick buildings are nestled among palm and olive trees, and students sit in twos and threes on the lawns—some reading, some discussing problems, and some simply enjoying the warm California sunshine.

"Sean," Kelly asked as they walked, "did you go to college?"

"Hmm—I've read it." Sean replied immediately after searching his memory. "It was a community college, majoring in performing arts. I only studied there for a year before dropping out."

“Community college, huh?” Kelly nodded thoughtfully. “Then you probably haven’t experienced real college life.”

"What do you mean?"

“What I mean is,” Kelly gestured to the students around her, “these kids live in a relatively closed ivory tower. The information they are exposed to and the opinions they form are largely influenced by the campus environment.”

"In this environment, extreme views tend to become more popular. Whether it's the far left or the far right, as long as it's radical enough, it can attract attention. Charlie Kirk took advantage of this."

Unlike traditional Republicans, Charlie Kirk is a master of online communication. His speeches have millions of views on YouTube, he has over two million Twitter followers, and he even has his own podcast.

His most famous activity was organizing "open debates" on various university campuses. He would bring a team, set up a simple debate stage on campus, and invite anyone to come up and debate any topic with him.

These debates are recorded in their entirety and then edited into short videos and posted online. Charlie Kirk is known for his sharp wit and aggressive style, often leaving his opponents speechless in debates.

Of course, critics argue that this is nothing more than a cheap publicity stunt. They point out that Charlie Kirk often chooses opponents who are ordinary students without professional debating training, and that the videos are edited to deliberately select segments that are favorable to him.

Regardless, this strategy did win him a lot of attention and support.

"We're almost there," Kelly's voice interrupted Sean's thoughts.

A large crowd had already gathered in the open space ahead. Sean could see a small, makeshift stage in the distance, with a banner hanging on it that read: "Turning Point America: Freedom of Thought, Freedom of Debate".

On stage, a young man of medium build, wearing a blue suit, is speaking eloquently into a microphone.

This man was Charlie Kirk.

"—So you see, this is the logic of the left." Charlie Kirk's voice echoed throughout the venue through the loudspeaker, "They keep talking about supporting choice," but when it comes to vaccines, they say your body isn't entirely yours. What is this if not double standards?"

A round of applause and cheers erupted from the audience, mainly from young people wearing T-shirts with the "TPUSA" logo, clearly supporters of Turning Point America. But there were also many boos, and some even shouted slogans like "Fascists out of school."

"Anyone want to come up and debate?" Charlie Kirk scanned the crowd below the stage. "Any topic is fine. I assure you, this is a completely free and open platform."

Sean and Kelly squeezed into the crowd and found a relatively forward position to stand in.

"See?" Kelly whispered to Sean. "That's his tactic. He throws out a seemingly reasonable argument, then challenges anyone to refute it. Most students haven't received professional debating training and can't gain any advantage against him."

"I saw it." Sean nodded, his eyes fixed on the stage.

Just then, a commotion arose in the crowd.

A figure stepped out from the crowd and walked straight to the stage.

That was a—

"Oh my god, who's here?"

The figure was dressed in a long white robe, wore a crown of thorns, and ancient-style sandals, holding a wooden scepter in his hand. Although the flowing long hair and beard were obviously fake, the overall appearance was quite realistic.

"Where did this amazing person come from?" Sean was stunned.

Yes, this student is cosplaying none other than Jesus!

"It looks like performance art," Kelly said, somewhat surprised. "These college students always like to do things outrageously."

On stage, Charlie Kirk looked at Yage as he walked up and a playful smile appeared on his face.

"Oh, it seems we have a special guest today." He raised the microphone. "May I ask who this is—"

"Sir? How should I address you?"

"You can call me Jesus," the student said in a deliberately low voice, "or, if you prefer, Joshua. That's my Hebrew name."

A burst of laughter erupted from the audience.

"Okay, Joshua," Charlie Kirk said, his tone clearly teasing. "So, what topic do you want to debate with me today?"

"Abortion." Yage's voice was firm and resolute.

"I want to talk to you about abortion."

Charlie Kirk's eyes lit up. Abortion was one of his favorite topics, and also one on which conservatives most easily gained the moral high ground.

Sean, who had been in the US for almost two months, still couldn't fully accept that the American was so keen on discussing abortion, but he remained silent.

"Very well." Charlie Kirk nodded. "Then let's talk. What's your stance on abortion?"

Instead of answering directly, Yago raised his wooden scepter: "Before I answer, I'd like to ask you a question."

"Please go ahead."

Are you a Christian?

"Of course," Charlie Kirk replied proudly, "I am a devout Christian."

"Very good." Yage nodded. "Then, you should know the teachings about abortion in the Bible, right?"

"Of course I know," Charlie Kirk said confidently. "The Psalms say: 'You made my intricate parts; you nestled me in my mother's womb. I praise you, for my being is fearfully and wonderfully made; your eyes saw my unformed body.' This passage clearly tells us that life begins from the moment of conception, and the fetus has equal value in God's eyes as the born baby."

"And Jeremiah says: 'Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart as holy.' God knew us before we were born. Abortion is killing a life that God already knew and loved."

The supporters in the audience applauded again.

However, Comrade Yorgos remained unmoved; he merely gave a cold smile. Perhaps this was the king's contempt—