Seoul, The Shilla Hotel, Presidential Suite.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the Namsan scenery was lush and green.
The hotel TV was on, and on the screen, Peninsula's most renowned current affairs commentator was passionately speaking about Mr. Allen's airport footage.
"...Look, everyone, this is true grace! Faced with malice, he didn't respond with anger, but with wisdom and magnanimity, transforming a personal attack into a hopeful vision for the future of Peninsula's entire film industry! This is not just the pride of the Korean people; this is world-class leadership!"
On the TV screen, the florid title "Korea's Light with World-Class Grace" occupied almost a third of the screen.
Mr. Allen had just finished showering and was drying his hair with a towel. He glanced at the TV and shook his head helplessly.
He was well aware of the power of this kind of excessive praise, which could easily backfire.
One misstep, and today's praises could become tomorrow's sharpest knives.
"Knock, knock."
A knock sounded at the door.
Mr. Allen's accompanying assistant, a capable young man named David, walked in and handed him a document.
"Mr. Allen, the information you requested."
Mr. Allen took the document, sat on the sofa, and opened it.
The first page was an official promotional photo of a girl.
In the photo, the girl's smile was radiant, her eyes curved into two adorable crescent moons, like a juicy, human peach.
Choi Jin-ri.
Stage name, Sulli.
An S&M Entertainment public trainee, eleven years old, she was being groomed by the company as a core member of their next-generation girl group due to her outstanding appearance and potential.
The last page of the document included her daily training schedule.
Vocal, dance, acting, etiquette, Japanese, Chinese... classes were packed from 8 AM to 10 PM.
Mr. Allen's fingertips gently traced the girl's sunny smile in the photo.
His gaze grew complex.
In his previous life, he was just one of countless bystanders who saw her tragedy reported in the news.
He had mourned the withered life and been angered by the cannibalistic system.
But all of that was separated by a cold screen.
Now, he stood here.
Standing at a time when she was still a child, her smile not yet swallowed by shadows.
If a reborn person, with the ability to rewrite everything, still chose to stand by and do nothing...
Then what was the meaning of his rebirth?
"David."
Mr. Allen closed the document.
"Yes, sir."
"Help me contact S&M Entertainment. Tell them my mother's art exhibition needs some inspiration from modern pop culture, and I'd like to pay their company an informal visit."
"Understood, sir."
David didn't ask why and immediately turned to carry out the task.
Half an hour later, S&M Entertainment headquarters.
The entire building was in a state of near-frenzied commotion.
All the executives, including Director Kim Young-min, who had been disdainful of Mr. Allen in his car not long ago, were now impeccably dressed in suits, standing at the company's main entrance, their faces beaming with the most enthusiastic smiles, as if awaiting a visiting president.
"Mr. Lawrence! Welcome! Welcome!"
Kim Young-min rushed forward, bowing ninety degrees, his posture utterly humble.
"It is an honor for all of us at S&M to have you grace us with your presence and guidance!"
Mr. Allen smiled and shook his hand, politely saying, "Director Kim, you're too kind. I'm just accompanying my mother back and thought I'd visit and learn a thing or two."
"I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare!"
Kim Young-min was flattered, hastily leading the way, his fawning demeanor a stark contrast to his contempt at the airport.
As he walked, he spoke voluminously about the company's glorious history, its most popular groups, and its most promising trainees.
"Mr. Lawrence, this is our company's top-tier recording studio; TVXQ's new album was recorded here."
"And this is our Wall of Honor. Look, this is the Golden Disc Award BoA won in Japan..."
Mr. Allen maintained a polite smile throughout, occasionally nodding.
His gaze continuously swept over the nameplates of various practice Rooms.
Finally, he stopped at the door of a practice Room with a sign that read "C-Class Trainee."
A harsh scolding voice seeped through the not-so-soundproof door.
"How many times have I told you! The angle of your arm! Why is it always off! Are you a pig?!"
"I'm sorry! Teacher! I'm sorry!" A tender girl's voice, tinged with a sob, repeatedly apologized.
Kim Young-min's expression subtly changed, a little embarrassed.
He was about to offer an explanation, say a few polite words, and lead Mr. Allen away.
But Mr. Allen had already reached out and gently pushed open the door.
A creak.
The music and scolding in the practice Room abruptly ceased.
Everyone's gaze was fixed on the figure who had suddenly appeared at the doorway.
In the center of the Room, a slender girl in an oversized T-shirt was bent at a ninety-degree angle, her body trembling slightly from fear.
It was Sulli.
Her forehead was covered in sweat, a few strands of hair clung to her flushed cheeks, and her eyes were brimming with tears, yet she stubbornly held them back.
The fierce dance teacher was also completely stunned, her mouth agape enough to fit an egg.
Mr. Allen ignored everyone.
He walked through the crowd directly to Sulli.
The entire practice Room was so quiet you could hear the sound of sweat dripping.
Under everyone's astonished gaze, Mr. Allen took out a beautifully packaged chocolate from his pocket.
It was Ghirardelli's Sea Salt Caramel Dark Chocolate, which he had brought from America.
He knelt down to be at eye level with the girl and spoke softly in the gentlest Korean he could manage.
"Practicing must be very hard, isn't it?"
Sulli suddenly looked up, and when she saw the face before her, her large eyes instantly filled with disbelief.
It was... the person from TV.
Mr. Allen placed the chocolate in her palm.
"This is for you. Eating something sweet will make you feel better."
The girl stared blankly at the chocolate in her palm, then at the handsome, gentle face before her, too nervous to speak, her small face flushed crimson.
Mr. Allen stood up and turned around, his smile still gentle, but his eyes had changed.
He looked at the dumbfounded Kim Young-min.
"Director Kim."
"Ah... Yes! Mr. Lawrence!" Kim Young-min startled, quickly responding.
"I believe that future stars need more than just sweat."
Mr. Allen's voice was calm, yet it was like nails being hammered into the hearts of all the S&M employees present.
"They also need to be treated with kindness."
He gestured towards Sulli, who was still frozen in place.
"She is a very spirited child, and I hope your company will cherish her."
The weight of these words was immense.
Kim Young-min's back was instantly drenched in cold sweat.
He knew this wasn't a suggestion; it was a warning.
A warning from Hollywood, from Disney, from the Lawrence family.
After leaving the S&M building and getting into the private car returning to the hotel.
The smile on Mr. Allen's face completely vanished.
He leaned back in his seat, watching the rapidly receding Seoul streetscape outside the window, his eyes cold.
Today's chocolate and a warning might temporarily spare her from harsh criticism.
But that was far from enough.
As long as she remained in this system, the seeds of tragedy would still be buried deep in the soil, ready to sprout at any moment.
What he needed to do was not prune the branches but uproot them entirely and transplant them into healthier soil.
He took out his phone and called his father.
"Hello, Mr. Allen, how was the visit? Did you find any inspiration?" John's relaxed voice came from the other end of the line.
"Dad."
"I've changed my mind."
"Besides Marvel Studios, I plan to establish an entertainment company in Korea."
He paused, then added.
"Or rather... a talent agency and protection company."