America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

In Los Angeles in June, the scorching heat of the year descended, and beverages led by two types of cola also entered their peak sales season.

Coca-Cola released new bottles adorned with the image of Cola Cult Sect Leader Martin, flooding the market in large quantities.

The concept of the Cola Cult attracted the attention of many young people.

With just half a month to go, the news that Sect Leader Martin would travel to Washington to receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom had also become widely known, thanks to Coca-Cola's promotion.

This fiery momentum continued to Coca-Cola's sales.

From supermarkets to convenience stores to street advertisements, posters and ads featuring Sect Leader Martin could be seen everywhere.

While red surged in popularity, blue refused to be left in the cold.

Pepsi launched two versions of ads, one for sports and the other for entertainment, with all the performers' hair dyed in the brand's signature blue.

Then, they were utterly lambasted in newspapers and online.

"Look at Martin's high class, then look at Pepsi's weird photos — the difference is clear as day!"

"We don't expect Pepsi to come up with something as high-end as the Cola Cult concept, but isn't this goofy look a bit too weak?"

"Coca-Cola used just Martin Davis to completely outshine a host of entertainment and sports stars, including Britney and Beckham."

Many die-hard Pepsi fans fought back.

"Red and blue can never coexist!"

"Drag out those who drink red and use them for target practice for ten minutes!"

The red and blue online quarrel was incessant, yet it kept Martin consistently in the limelight.

Just like the market share of the two colas, the overwhelming majority supporting red ensured Martin's positive influence.

In the Pacific Pictures office, Thomas rubbed his face vigorously and looked up from the computer.

Jessica, with dark circles under her eyes, said, "Our hooked parties have started arguing online. Coca-Cola is pushing it too, and it won't stop anytime soon."

Emily stretched out tiredly: "I've been working over ten hours a day for the past few days. I can't do this anymore; I need to go home and catch up on my beauty sleep."

Since coming back from Atlanta, Thomas hadn't had a moment's rest. He was looking for new job opportunities for Martin while also coordinating with Coca-Cola on publicity campaigns, having fought tirelessly for many days on end.

While these three were continuously working overtime, charged with responsibilities, Bruce's car left North Hollywood and entered Sherman Oaks.

"Actually, that house in Malibu is not bad, located on the mountain with a good view, and it's not expensive," said Antonio, sitting in the back seat with his belly sticking out. "2.6 million US dollars will definitely clinch it."

Martin shook his head: "That place has only one road. If a fire starts on the mountain, there's nowhere to run."

Antonio was surprised by the way Martin thought: "Malibu hasn't had a wildfire in many years."

Martin still vaguely remembered the gossip he had read before. Malibu was always associated with celebrities and wildfires.

If he had just bought the house and then a fire came sweeping through, it would be quite a spectacle.

Grilled Martin and Bruce?

The thought itself was thrilling.

Bruce drove to Cody Road, where a new community in Sherman Oaks was situated. The houses in the community, located at the foot of the mountain, were all independent villas with courtyards, ranging from about 500 to 800 square meters, all built within the last three years.

Following Antonio's guidance, they stopped the car in front of a courtyard gate.

The closed iron gate was open, with tall palm trees planted on both sides. Martin estimated that the area enclosed by the fence was about 25X30 meters.

Antonio made a phone call and gestured towards the inside of the gate.

Bruce drove straight in. Experience more magic at m v l e mpyr

The front yard was a lush green lawn with a rectangular swimming pool, and the villa featured the typical Los Angeles white walls and red tiles, in an inverted L-shape.

Real estate agent Garrison, whom they had an appointment with, was standing by the steps in front of the house.

As the car came to a stop, Martin got out and looked at Antonio struggling to move. He helped him get out of the car.

Antonio sighed: "I'm getting old; my legs aren't what they used to be."

"You're not old, you're just fat," Martin quipped from a distance, pointing to Antonio's stomach which was bigger than that of a woman in her tenth month of pregnancy: "Consider going on a diet."

Antonio shook his head: "It's too painful. I'd rather lie in bed in the future."

Garrison hurried over to shake hands with Martin: "Mr. Davis, it's an honor to serve you."

"Don't mention it," Martin said, looking around. The fence was high enough to block outside views, with a garage on the side of the auxiliary building, which also had a barbecue grill, making it convenient for outdoor self-service barbecues and parties.

Garrison, very perceptive, led the way to that side: "Shall we start from here?"

Martin followed.

Bruce looked at Antonio's wobbly belly, worried he might lose balance and fall, and walked beside him.

Antonio had already told Martin that this was a newly refurbished house.

Now, he wouldn't talk much, so as not to influence Martin's judgment.

The auxiliary building's garage could easily fit three cars; the inside door led to a small living room, while the second floor had several bedrooms, with a corridor leading directly to the master bedroom and the main building.

Bruce deliberately walked around the place and was quite satisfied.

Regardless, the Russians are always a potential danger, and he'll have to stay at Martin's place for a long time, he can live in the annex, available to rush over if needed.

With his toes, Bruce could figure out that Martin, that lousy guy, would definitely mess around, and it wouldn't affect Martin's mischief on his end.

The group moved from the second floor to the main building; there were two suites of bedrooms on the second floor. The master bedroom was spacious enough and even had a large balcony—plenty of room for a party of more than ten in the master bedroom.

As for the first floor, it was the usual layout of a living room, study, dining room, and entertainment room, etc.

What pleased Martin the most was that the entertainment room came with a small four-seat theater.

The main building also had a basement, divided into a small wine cellar, storage room, and gym.

Like most of the mansions for sale, this one came with decor and furnished.

After visiting the house in person and returning to the living room, Martin asked directly, "How much is the asking price?"

Garrison gave a straightforward quote: "With all the furniture and appliances included, 2.45 million US dollars."

Martin had specifically researched real estate prices, and this price was still acceptable. Sherman Oaks was a rich neighborhood on par with Beverly and Brentwood, and the location of the Cody Community in Sherman Oaks was moderate, against the hills but not on the most expensive slopes or hillside.

Naturally, he was benchmarking against Louise's property and not MJ's Neverland Ranch or Pitt and Aniston's 40 million US dollar mansion.

Martin still had a few more places to see and wasn't in a hurry to make a decision: "Let me think about it."

The three got in the car and left the Cody Community, heading upwards toward the mountain's midsection.

Martin asked, "Old Cloth, what do you think?"

"Not bad, the walls are high enough to keep out prying eyes," Bruce responded first from a security perspective: "And it would be beneficial for me to install some warning systems."

After thinking it over, he added, "I can live in the annex, so you can have your own space, and if anything happens, I can support you at a moment's notice."

Antonio caught on and curiously asked, "Still affected by the aftermath of Burbank Middle School?"

Martin cocked his head.

Antonio said, "Hire me as your security, with me and the Friendship Gun guarding the door, I can take down any bastard that comes along, no doubt about my shooting."

Having seen Antonio's shooting skills, Martin said, "I don't doubt your shooting; I'm worried that after you open fire, you might end up going down with the enemy. I can't compensate for the life of a seasoned millionaire."

Bruce, puzzled, asked Antonio, "Don't you like to enjoy life? Guarding is such hard work."

"Everyone has a hero dream. I want to be a hero too," Antonio patted his round belly as though a basketball was rolling. "Do you know why my shooting is so good? Because I practiced with the dream of being a hero!"

"Russians can be very brutal," Bruce remarked.

Antonio found the topic interesting: "You guys might not be aware, but my generation is so afraid of Russians, it's like a psychological curse, and I want to break that curse."

Martin glanced at Antonio's belly: "You better just stick with the promising career of being a landlord."

The car soon arrived at the second property, and the trio quickly finished viewing it and left.

The house was beautiful, with even more complete and advanced facilities, but the problem was it covered nearly 1,200 square meters and was priced at a hefty 4 million US dollars—too expensive.

Martin then viewed the third and fourth properties, both seaside villas.

A seaside home was okay for a short vacation, but troublesome for long-term living, and most importantly, the price wasn't cheap either.

The three then went to Seaside Boulevard and found an outdoor beverage shop to sit under the sun and drink cold drinks.

Antonio kept wiping sweat: "There are two more properties in Brentwood, but they're even more expensive, over 4.5 million US dollars."

Martin waved his hand: "No need to see them."

Antonio then said, "Of the few we've seen, the owner of the real estate company is somewhat acquainted with me, and I can help you negotiate a lower price."

Bruce put down his iced Coca-Cola and looked at Martin: "Another look? Or have you made a choice?"

Martin was decisive: "Let's go with that one in the Cody Community."

Antonio remembered something: "I know the chairman of the Cody Community board, I'll introduce him to you later."

Martin was curious: "Didn't expect you to be so well-connected."

Antonio downed his drink in one go: "I am a seasoned millionaire, after all."

Bruce looked on enviously: "When I get old, I'll also buy an apartment building to rent out."

It seemed like the job of a landlord wasn't bad; Martin involuntarily thought of landlords from his past life, the epitome of wealth and allure, unsure how many beautiful ladies chasing their Hollywood dreams had to travel thousands of miles because of unpaid rent.

On their way back to North Hollywood, Antonio made a call that lasted at most half a minute, and the price of that house in the Cody Community dropped from 2.45 million US dollars to 2.35 million US dollars.

"I'll have to give you a big gift," Martin said to the fat landlord.

Antonio seemed to remind, "I already have a crocodile tooth pendant and a horn carving."

"Really?" With so many gifts given out, Martin had lost track; he wished he had made a detailed list—it's awkward to give the same gift twice.

Bruce couldn't help but laugh.

Antonio said, "Don't give me any gifts, who doesn't know that you're living in my North Hollywood Apartment? Now the apartment is in high demand, the rent has almost doubled since last year, many small-time actors want to replicate your success."

He changed his tone abruptly: "Not to mention, I've referred quite a few clients to the Hyena Doctor over the past six months, and I've gotten a tidy sum in referral fees!"

Martin shook his head: "There certainly are a lot of troublemakers around."