The Metropolitan Hotel in Las Vegas was made up of two 184-meter towers, the Boulevard Tower and the Chelsea Tower.
Judging by its construction cost alone, the Metropolitan Hotel should have been the most luxurious hotel in the entire city.
Its $3.9 billion price tag had set a new record for hotel construction costs in Las Vegas.
Of course, that figure hadn't been adjusted for inflation, and Alvin really wasn't impressed by these two ultra-modern towers.
An old man like him preferred the kind of blatant luxury you found at Caesars Palace—the kind of extravagance favored by nouveau riche...
The Metropolitan Hotel's interior was steeped in modern art, but to anyone who didn't understand it, it would just seem like there was something fishy about that $3.9 billion price tag.
A few extremely high-spirited guests had arrived at the Metropolitan Casino today...
Beneath the casino's vast ceiling, five obviously disguised men were surrounded by more than a dozen provocatively dressed women. They brazenly raised their hard liquor in a toast, celebrating their impending victory...
The casino's security staff and manager were going crazy!
Manhattan Axe and Iron Man were on the verge of getting married, yet here they were at the casino, wearing fake mustaches and baseball caps, partying...
Could this be allowed?
Fox was one thing, but was Miss Pepper Potts the sort of person who'd take this lightly?
The Metropolitan's head of security was a balding, middle-aged man. Watching the scene on the monitors, he sighed helplessly, then turned to his subordinates and said, "Notify the boss, then give each of those paparazzi at the entrance $500 in chips and tell them to stay away from the hotel today."
The bald middle-aged man watched Alvin standing on a sofa on the monitor, holding up a wad of cash