Hollywood Taxes: A Tycoon in TV Land

Chapter 23 – The Chinese Restaurant and Koreatown

By the time Ron returned to Los Angeles, it was already late. He was still pondering what to eat for dinner when his phone buzzed. He answered, and Howard's unmistakably sleazy voice came through.

"Ron, you back in town?"

"Just got back. What's up, Howard?" Ron asked.

"Do you remember that 'special' Chinese restaurant you mentioned this morning?" There was background noise on Howard's end, and Ron could even hear Rajesh urging him on. "The one that supposedly serves... you know, enhancement dishes? Can we go? You did promise."

---

Thirty minutes later, Ron was seated in a slightly rundown Chinese BBQ restaurant in Chinatown, flanked by an excited Howard and Rajesh. The place had a plain sign reading only "Liu's", and aside from the three of them, everyone else in the restaurant appeared to be East Asian.

The moment they entered, Howard couldn't contain himself and eagerly called out in broken Chinese, "Can we get one General Tso's Chicken, please? And that... uh... enhancement dish too. Thanks. You guys want anything?"

Ron rolled his eyes and responded in fluent Chinese—so fluent, in fact, it came with a heavy, authentic Northeastern Chinese accent:

"Don't order that General Tso's crap. That's just for fooling Westerners."

He turned to the server with a grin. "Hey, brother, don't listen to him. Bring us three grilled kidneys—cook them through, heavy on the cumin, light on the spice. These foreigners can't handle real flavor. Then give us twenty lamb skewers, grilled chives, and maybe throw in a bull penis or two—up to you. After all, these two Westerners are picking up the tab."

The server stood frozen with his mouth wide open.

What did he mean by "these foreigners can't handle our food"? You look like a foreigner yourself! Aren't you one too?!

"My god, Ron," Howard said in awe. "You speak Chinese?! That's the hardest language I've ever tried to learn!"

Ron shrugged proudly. "Of course. It's not that hard, is it? Actually, I majored in Chinese in college—graduated top of my class."

A man with a Chinese soul stuck in an American body studying Chinese in an American university? That's practically cheating.

Ron reached out and gently lifted the server's jaw shut. "Come on, buddy, hurry up. Make sure those kidneys are fatty—sizzling with oil."

He leaned in and whispered something into the server's ear before sitting back and licking his lips with nostalgia. Only he knew how tough it was to live in this country with a Chinese palate trapped in an American body.

Rajesh leaned over and asked, "Ron, does this enhancement food really work?"

"Of course! This is one of China's oldest secrets," Ron said, completely making it up. "If I hadn't dated a Chinese girl back in college, I wouldn't know about it either."

A few minutes later, their order of traditional Chinese BBQ dishes started arriving.

"Alright, this here is kidney," Ron explained. "Made from lamb kidneys—according to traditional Chinese medicine, it strengthens the kidneys, which, well… you get the idea. It sounds gross, but trust me—it's delicious."

"This green stuff is Chinese chives. You cut them down, and they grow back just as fast—symbolizing vitality and stamina. Perfect for boosting your, uh, 'performance' in battle."

Ron went on, introducing each dish one by one. He could even turn the simplest lamb skewer into a nutritional miracle if it helped sell his enhancement pitch. It was more convincing than it had any right to be.

Howard and Rajesh stared at their plates, visibly shaken.

Seeing them hesitate, Ron egged them on. "Come on, think about last night. That plus-size girl nearly wore the two of you out. Don't you want to try handling one each next time instead of tag-teaming?"

Before he even finished his sentence, Howard—who had been staring at the kidney with visible reluctance—suddenly adopted a look of noble sacrifice and stabbed a piece with his fork, popping it into his mouth. Rajesh followed suit, refusing to be outdone.

Howard chewed a few times and swallowed, his expression lighting up in surprise. "Rajesh, this actually tastes… kind of amazing?"

Rajesh nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty good!"

They exchanged a look, and the next second, both dove into their plates like starving men.

Ron watched them with a smug smile, taking a slow bite of a lamb skewer and chasing it down with a big gulp of beer.

Hah, you really think your Western taste buds can resist the allure of thousand-year-old Chinese culinary mastery? Not a chance.

Just as they were enjoying their feast, another server emerged from the back carrying a plate.

"Who ordered the niu huan xi?"

Ron excitedly raised his hand. "Over here!"

Howard's curiosity had been fully awakened by the night's exotic menu, but he still looked wary. "What's this made of? Another enhancement dish?"

"Of course," Ron replied with a mischievous grin. "I'm not exactly sure what part it is, but it comes from the cow. In the old days, only nobles could afford to eat this. But hey, Rajesh—if your religion doesn't allow it, I'd be happy to share it with you instead."

He winked. "After all, in your culture, cows are sacred animals."

Of course Ron knew exactly what niu huan xi was made from. But he wasn't about to tell them. This was all part of the game. He wanted to see their reactions after they'd eaten it—what kind of faces would they make when they found out? Oh, this was going to be fun.

Honestly, Ron's sense of humor could be downright wicked sometimes.

Before Howard could even muster a reaction, Rajesh had already stabbed a piece with his fork and popped it into his mouth. He let out a blissful moan:

"Mmm… who knew a cow could be both delicious and divine~"

Eventually, the trio polished off every last dish on the table. Stuffed to the brim, they slumped into their chairs, looking utterly satisfied.

Rajesh rubbed his stomach and asked, "Howard, do you feel anything… you know… working?"

Howard sat up with a gleeful glint in his eyes, puffing out his chest. "Hell yes! It's like there's a fire burning in my belly! I feel like a machine, baby—ready to go all night!"

"I think I feel it too! You still have that big girl's number from yesterday? Tonight, I'm making her beg for mercy!"

"Of course I do!" Howard jumped to his feet. "Ron, we're outta here. Tonight's gonna be legendary!"

"Ohhh yeah!" Rajesh howled, breaking into an awkward, eye-melting dance as he followed. Thankfully, the two idiots at least remembered to pay the bill before they left.

Ron rolled his eyes at their retreating figures.

"The sky's clear, the rain's gone… and now you two clowns think you're invincible again?"

Morons. That was just chili peppers kicking in! Not even a certain blue pill acts that fast.

Whether that "boost-your-manhood" platter actually worked or not was anyone's guess. But Ron knew full well—most of this stuff was placebo. Half the time, a man's performance issues were psychological. Cure the mind, and the body follows. Those two pervs were probably just intimidated by the sheer size of that girl last night. And once that mental block was gone…

Well, maybe he had done a good deed today. Kind of?

Still, Ron had zero interest in tagging along. Who knew if those idiots would try to drag him into some twisted three-way with that giant woman?

He'd already pulled off the "F" key on his keyboard—no way was he driving any tanks.

He waited a while longer, making sure the coast was clear. When he finally stood, wiped his mouth, and prepared to leave, chaos erupted.

"TATATATA—"

A burst of gunfire shattered the night.

Customers and restaurant staff screamed and dove under tables.

"F**k! That's a submachine gun!"

Ron didn't hesitate. He drew his weapon and sprinted toward the door. But just as he reached the entrance—

BOOM!

An explosion rocked the area—not far off. Right in the direction of Koreatown.

The same direction Howard and Rajesh had just gone.

"No way… don't tell me that blast involved those two?"

Ron's heart sank.

This wasn't a mugging. Not a chance. Who the hell would use a submachine gun to rob two dorks with zero combat ability?

Something bigger was going on.

Could Rajesh's background have drawn unwanted attention?

Without wasting another second, Ron jumped into his car, slammed the key in, and tore off toward the explosion site. He wasn't about to let something happen to two people who were just laughing with him minutes ago.

The scene wasn't far. But Ron had barely driven a couple hundred meters when he suddenly found himself face-to-face with a pack of motorcyclists. He paid them no mind at first, until—

They turned around and came after him.

That's when it hit him.

"They're checking my plates… Are these guys after me?"

Two bikes pulled up, flanking him on both sides. Riders on the back stood up and pulled out weapons—submachine guns. Same model as before.

"Uzi SMGs… Just like the earlier gunfire. Definitely the same group."

And they were coming for him.

A twisted smile curled on Ron's lips.

Instead of braking or ducking, he swerved hard to the left—slamming his car into one of the bikes.

BANG!

The motorcycle and its rider were sent flying.

Ron didn't miss a beat. He yanked the wheel all the way to the right and floored it. The car spun in a perfect circle, performing a tight U-turn, then rammed into the second bike, slamming it off the road and into a telephone pole.

THUD!

The rider crumpled, bloodied and barely breathing.

Ron had already rolled out the driver's side, ducking into the roadside bushes just before impact. The remaining bikers didn't realize. They swarmed his now-empty car, guns blazing, riddling the vehicle with bullets until one shot finally pierced the fuel tank.

KA-BOOM!

The car went up in a fireball, flames and smoke erupting into the air.

Just as the smoke began to clear, and the bikers' smug satisfaction was about to set in—

A shadow rose from the grass.

Ron stood tall, a cold grin spreading across his face.

"Had fun shooting just now? Great.

Because now… it's Uncle Ron's turn."