America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

A new weekend had arrived, and Times Square in New York was especially lively in front of the Marriott Hotel.

The hotel entrance, while not adorned with a red carpet, was swarming with a throng of entertainment reporters and paparazzi, with every luxury car arrival setting off a frenzy of camera flashes.

Tonight, "Fashion" Magazine was hosting a reception party here to warm up for next month's "Met Gala".

An Escalade pulled up in front of the hotel, and Nicholson, Leonardo, and Martin stepped out one after another, entering the hotel amidst flashes.

Leonardo whispered, "Has that bastard Justin Bieber already arrived?"

Martin glanced at Bruce, who shook his head, and said, "Not yet, he likes to make an entrance."

Nicholson advised, "Keep your cool, Leo, haste and panic will only lead you to make mistakes."

Leonardo gave a slight nod.

Just as the three of them were about to enter the banquet hall where the party was happening, Martin double-checked, "Jack, are you sure about the person we chose?"

Nicholson chuckled and said, "Of course, don't forget who I am – Jack Nicholson, who has been in the entertainment industry and social scenes for decades!"

He looked around, "Although it was a bit difficult to fulfill your request, it wasn't too hard for me! I've tapped several channels just to find the right person, completely according to your specifications."

Thinking about Martin's plan, Leonardo asked, "Why do I feel like this is unreliable?"

"Because your ideas are never reliable," Martin muttered under his breath. "If we stick to my plan, Justin Bieber will definitely cause a sensation this time."

Nicholson snickered coldly, "The three of us good Samaritans are about to give him a free ride to the headline news."

The three of them entered the banquet hall and stopped discussing the matter further.

The host of this party, Anna Wintour, editor-in-chief of "Fashion" Magazine, immediately came to greet them.

Approaching the Trio of Scoundrels, she exaggeratedly said, "God has finally answered my prayers, sending his three most beloved children to me; Martin, Leo, Jack, are you finally attending the Met Gala again?"

Since the early 90s, the main organizer of the Metropolitan Museum of Art's charity ball had been "Fashion" Magazine, with Anna Wintour in charge, "I still remember, a few years back when you attended the charity ball, your unique styles and entrances caused a worldwide sensation. What creativity will you bring this time?"

Nicholson thought to himself, 'Do you want creative ways to sabotage people?' Breaking the woman's illusion, he said, "Anna, I've retired. Attending fashion parties is a stretch for me, and I no longer have the energy or stamina for charity balls."

But Anna Wintour didn't give up so easily, "You can at least bring the new Oscar-winning Best Actress over for a visit, right?"

Nicholson smiled, "Of course, she'll be there."

Anna Wintour joked, "To prevent Jennifer from tripping on the red carpet again, the Met Gala needs a gentleman like Martin."

Martin shrugged, "By that time, I guess I'll be in the African desert, dancing with mummies and camels."

In the presence of these top stars, Anna Wintour did not seem like the young adult 'female devil' she was to her subordinates, but more like a witty woman, "I hope those mummies are as beautiful and fashionable as every one of your female friends."

Martin couldn't help but laugh, joking back, "Anna, I'm now convinced that 'The Devil Wears Prada' is all slander. A lovely, witty fashion icon like you could never be a female devil!"

Anna also laughed, hugging Leonardo before hooking his arm, "Actually, Leo understands me very well."

Leonardo said, "A humorous and witty Sect Hierarch."

After chatting briefly, Anna Wintour went to welcome other VIPs, and Martin's trio headed inside the banquet hall, where familiar and unfamiliar faces alike greeted them, keeping them incredibly busy.

Martin found himself talking to Annie-Hathaway on his own.

Nicholson was pulled aside by Meryl Streep for a private word.

Although there were plenty of blond, long-legged models at the event that evening, Leonardo's mind was elsewhere. He made a quick round of the banquet hall without spotting his target, so he made his way back towards the party entrance.

Just as he arrived, Justin Bieber entered through the door.

Just like the pre-investigation indicated, Justin Bieber had come alone.

Leonardo pretended not to see him.

But Justin saw Leonardo, and remembering how he'd mocked the Hollywood star to his face before going to Gisele Bundchen's room at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, a sense of schadenfreude welled up inside him.

During that encounter, Gisele had mentioned that she was Leonardo's true love.

Having done such thrilling deeds, Justin felt it would be unbearably depressing not to gloat.

Justin approached Leonardo, stretching out his tattoo-covered arm as though to express friendliness, "Good evening, Leo, I didn't expect to see you again."

Leonardo ignored his hand, asking curtly, "What do you want?"

Others might have been cautious around Leonardo, but Justin, ever the troublemaker, cheerfully said, "Your behavior that night made me question my feelings for Gisele. To verify I wasn't wrong, I followed Gisele to her hotel room after you left."

Upon hearing this, Leonardo stiffened as if he were a robot.

With his thick neck twisting upward to lift his double chin, he slowly turned his head as if the sound of grating bones accompanied the motion, "What are you saying?"

Justin flicked out his pierced tongue, licking his lips, "Plenty of water, the taste is top-notch."

Martin couldn't care less if all his ex-girlfriends got screwed one by one by the jerk in front of him, but Gisele was different, totally different.

He couldn't help wanting to take a swing.

A hand reached out and rested on Leonardo's shoulder.

Seeing Justin Bieber come in, Martin quickly walked over to intercept his bro, "Leo, we're civilized people."

Justin's mouth almost reached his ears—the nerve of this guy! To actually have the gall to call himself civilized! Wasn't it this bastard who tried to mess with him with a bunch of toughs in Central Park two years ago?

Leonardo calmed down gradually after Martin's reminder.

Martin tugged at Leonardo, "Let's go."

Leonardo glanced at Justin Bieber and then left.

Justin laughed cheerfully.

As they walked away, Martin commented, "That guy's brain isn't right."

Leonardo replied, "He must have been on something before he came, it's obvious."

Martin asked, "You sure?"

"Of course," Leonardo was confident in this area, "You might not know, but I was a fanboy of River Phoenix in my teenage years. I've seen too many of these types. Just a quick glance at them and I can tell."

Martin nodded, "Good, let's stick to the original plan."

Nicholson came over then and said, "The person has arrived, look to the left."

Martin and Leonardo both glanced that way and recognized the girl in the red miniskirt.

This girl's face bore a passing resemblance to Selena Gomez, but her figure was much better than Selena Gomez's— at first glance, she was like an enhanced version of Hailey Baldwin.

Without a doubt, she was the choice Martin had picked from a bunch of photos.

Because of Martin's validation as the only verified member of Taylor's clique, Selena Gomez didn't end up with Justin Bieber.

The former was the woman the latter had always yearned for but could never get.

As for Hailey Baldwin, there's no need to say more—Martin knew that in his past life, this girl later changed her name to Hailey Bieber.

Leonardo, who had just been angered to the point of swelling up a bit, said, "You think he'll bite?"

Nicholson reminded, "Don't forget our verified information. After he's high, he gets too overexcited every time. This place is also a prime hunting ground."

As the three men chatted, Lana Sanders, clad in a red short cocktail dress that showed off her long, straight legs, approached Justin Bieber, a red clutch in her hand.

He was her prey for the night.

Lana appeared to be in her early twenties, with a surgically modified 'tech face' well-suited for makeup, and a posture that was curvaceous and slim-waisted, seemingly reaching the limits of human body proportions.

She had invested much more in her body than most women who underwent plastic surgery.

So, when a hefty six-figure sum was offered, even without knowing who the employer was and despite the substantial risks involved, Lana still agreed.

On one hand, Lana's job was that of a high-class courtesan with a unique feature; on the other hand, Lana needed the money for the most crucial step of her surgery.

Lana's gaze fell on Justin Bieber.

Justin, having been snubbed by two targets and having just had a drink to recalibrate, looked up to see a pretty girl approaching.

"Are you Justin?" The girl's face lit up with excitement as she unconsciously swayed her sultry body and began to sing, "Baby, baby, baby, oh ..."

Justin knew right away he had met a fan—the kind he'd encountered all too frequently over the past few years, though most of them were rather plain. But the one in front of him was not just beautiful, she looked particularly pleasing to the eye.

Her face, somewhat reminiscent of Selena Gomez's, was even more refined and well-defined, and her figure was indescribably attractive.

Most crucially, the girl had a mixed-race charm. At first glance, she looked Caucasian and then slightly Latina, with a healthy wheatish complexion.

Justin was already looking for a target and immediately decided she was the best choice. He flicked his hair back and said, "You're a fan of my music? You sing well, but there's room for improvement."

Lana said, "I like your songs, and you as a singer." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "Lana Sanders, a model."

Justin took her hand, "Lana, I've never seen a model as pretty as you."

The pair started to engage in eager conversation.

Meanwhile, the Trio of Scoundrels found a spot to rest.

Martin glanced over casually, "They've left the banquet hall."

Nicholson noted, "See, even after so many handoffs, the final person we find is always reliable."

Leonardo's mood was uplifted, "I wonder if Justin will be super thrilled when he discovers the truth."

"This is a masterpiece of our times." Martin raised his glass, "Here's to this era of ever-proliferating monsters and demons."