The transfer of ownership of the SONY/ATV catalog sent shockwaves through the North American music industry.
This was an enviable cash cow—Universal Music and EMI were green with envy.
For some artists, it also meant that the royalties they had to pay for performing their own songs would now go to Martin instead of Sony and Michael.
Paul McCartney of The Beatles.Bob Dylan.And many others.
Even Michael Jackson's own songs were in this catalog, but he had an agreement with Martin—he could perform his own music without paying royalties.
With the catalog deal secured, Martin headed back to the airport, preparing to fly to the UAE.
On the way, he leaned back in his seat and said to Drew Barrymore, who was seeing him off, "Drew, I've just handed you the final piece of the puzzle for Meyers Pictures. The rest is up to you."
Drew Barrymore squinted playfully and smiled. "Don't worry, I won't let you down. Maybe Hollywood will soon have a seventh major studio rising."
Martin didn't care much. "That won't be easy. Don't be fooled by how friendly the Big Six are with me now. The moment we step into distribution, they'll turn on us in an instant. We need the right opportunity."
"What kind of opportunity?"
"I don't know. We wait."
At that moment, Gordon, who was driving, suddenly reported, "Boss, we've got a tail."
Martin and Drew turned their heads to look through the rear window. A black Mercedes C-Class was following them. It looked old and unremarkable.
"Paparazzi?" Drew asked.
Martin shook his head. "Not sure."
He tapped the seat in front of him. "Gordon, lose them."
Gordon pressed down on the gas, and their car picked up speed. The black Mercedes followed suit.
Martin glanced back again. "Still following. Might be paparazzi."
Drew smirked. "Looks like your acquisition of SONY/ATV has drawn quite a bit of attention."
Martin was about to respond when he suddenly frowned. "Wait... That's not paparazzi. That's the police?"
Just then, a hand reached out from the black Mercedes' window and placed a flashing red police light on the roof.
The light began to spin, and a siren blared.
"Should we stop?" Gordon asked.
"Pull over," Martin said.
Gordon slowly brought the car to a stop by the roadside.
He was the first to step out, walking toward the black car, which had also pulled over.
The car door opened, and two men in black suits stepped out, flashing their badges.
"FBI. Can you ask the person inside to step out?"
Inside the car, Martin's brows furrowed.
He could smell a setup.
Gordon wasn't intimidated in the slightest. He blocked the two agents from approaching the car. "What do you want?"
"We need to speak with the person inside. Are you sure you want to obstruct a federal investigation?" one of the agents said irritably, jabbing a finger at Gordon's chest.
The other agent quickly intervened, pulling his colleague back before turning to Gordon. "There's no need for hostility. Our boss just has a few questions for Mr. Martin. We'd appreciate his cooperation."
Gordon sneered. "Mr. Martin has no obligation to entertain your boss' unreasonable demands."
The irritable agent smirked. "Well then, we might have to use other methods."
Gordon lifted his chin defiantly. "You can try."
The more level-headed agent sighed. "Let's not make this difficult. We just need Mr. Martin's cooperation. Using force wouldn't be good for anyone."
Then, he subtly signaled to someone nearby.
Gordon followed his gaze and immediately frowned.
A black SUV had just parked not far away. Several muscular men stepped out—clearly FBI field agents.
Martin had traveled to New York in a hurry and, aside from Gordon, hadn't brought any other bodyguards.
Gordon was confident in his own skills, but even he wasn't sure he could take on six agents by himself.
If Martin got involved, maybe...
The thought flashed through Gordon's mind but vanished just as quickly. He wasn't about to gamble with Martin's safety.
Inside the car, Martin could already tell this was a trap. He didn't yet know the exact reason or who was behind it.
But considering the people he had recently pissed off, the prime suspects were Sony Music and Bush.
Both had the power to mobilize the FBI in New York.
"You stay in the car. I'll go see what they want."
Before Drew could finish, Martin had already opened the door and stepped out.
"Mr. Martin, we need you to come with us for questioning."
The agent who had been playing 'good cop' was visibly relieved when Martin complied. He hadn't been eager to use force on such a high-profile figure.
"Martin, something's off," Gordon whispered as he moved to Martin's side.
"I know," Martin said calmly. "I'll go with them and see who's behind this and what they want."
"Could be dangerous."
"It won't be. Call my lawyer. And take Drew back to my Manhattan apartment."
Gordon hesitated. "Martin, are you sure you don't need me to go with you?"
The two FBI agents patiently waited for Martin and Gordon to finish their conversation before stepping forward.
One of them handed Martin his badge.
Martin examined it and confirmed they were real FBI agents. "Who's your boss?"
"James Hendricks, head of the FBI field office in New York."
Not just Martin—but the other Martin, the one from China in his past life—knew that name.
James Hendricks was an infamous figure. After his retirement, it was revealed that he had been running a full-blown harem inside the FBI.
Yes, you read that right—an FBI harem.
The scandal had caused a massive uproar, not just in the U.S. but internationally. Even in China, the case had been widely reported.
Back then, the other Martin had only followed the story as a piece of celebrity gossip.
James Hendricks had been the head of the FBI's Albany Field Office in New York State.
His primary interest wasn't catching criminals—it was coercing female subordinates into sexual favors, groping them in the office, and pressuring them into affairs.
The most outrageous incident?
He had once had sex with a female subordinate inside an FBI conference room, separated from the main office by a single glass wall. The wall was frosted, but not entirely opaque.
According to his fellow agents, "Everyone could see or hear what was happening."
During the investigation, many colleagues described him as a predator who used various tactics—both overt and subtle—to make women submit to him.
Investigators found that he was surrounded by a harem of attractive female agents, obsessed with high heels and cleavage, and was notorious for openly ogling women as they walked down the hallways.
And now, this degenerate was the one who had summoned Martin.
Martin let out a quiet chuckle.
This is going to be interesting.