Only the sounds of violent tearing and swallowing filled the private room.
Time flew by amidst the aroma of burning fat.
Two hours later, the banquet finally came to an end.
The large, luxurious dining table presents an extremely contrasting scene.
On the left side, Laurent's carefully prepared alternative menu remained intact.
The top-grade A5 Wagyu beef, seared to perfection, has a layer of white, cold-pressed fat that has solidified on the surface.
The Brittany blue lobsters, flown in by air, had their bright red shells completely untouched.
The area on the right features all the dishes prepared under Su Wei's supervision.
The Wilderness Consommé was completely emptied.
That enormous tomahawk steak was reduced to a single, pale, massive bone with deep tooth marks.
The subsequent dishes, confit bear paw and sous-vide braised bear leg, were served with even the bottom side dishes scraped clean.
Charles slumped into the large Chesterfield leather sofa.
He exuded an extreme lethargy stemming from a frenzied overexertion.
But his skin still retained an incredible rosy glow.
Each breath was deep and steady, without the previous muffled noises.
"This is my life."
Charles paused for a moment.
"The most brutal yet most satisfying meal I've ever had."
He stretched out his hands and vigorously wiped his cheeks, removing all the grease from the corners of his mouth.
Then, he suddenly straightened up.
He exuded an absolute, unassailable majesty and vibrant vitality.
He pushed the smooth, polished bone china plate in front of him away with both hands.
The bottom of the porcelain piece rubbed heavily against the solid wood table, producing a harsh sound.
The air inside the private room suddenly compressed; the final settlement was about to begin.
Charles's gaze was fixed firmly on Su Wei across from him.
He raised his right hand, his fingertips reaching into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, where the collar had been torn.
Two seconds later.
Snap!
A dark blue, gold-embossed checkbook was slammed heavily onto the solid wood table.
He then pulled out a Montblanc pen with a solid gold cap.
The pen tip hovered above the column for the check amount.
Chapter 174 The so-called privilege is a wildness that money can't buy.
The private room fell silent.
The cello's deep, resonant final note also faded from the sound system.
The unburnt applewood charcoal on the dining car occasionally crackled softly, scattering a tiny, dark red spark.
Charles stopped moving.
The pen in his hand hovered above the checkbook.
The pen tip was less than one centimeter from the paper.
The ink gathered into beads at the tip of the pen, teetering precariously.
But he did not put pen to paper.
The old man slowly raised his head.
His light gray eyes were fixed on Su Wei.
Those two gazes appeared calm, yet they carried a sense of oppression accumulated over decades.
He is a decision-maker who controls a multi-billion dollar financial empire.
Countless lives have been altered by the rise and fall of his pen.
Name your price.
Charles spoke.
He had just swallowed the roasted meat roughly, his voice thick with noise.
These three words echoed throughout the private room.
"This meal was just to my liking."
Charles flicked his wrist, avoiding the amount column with the pen.
"I want you to give up messing around in a remote place like Kodiak."
"Come back to Seattle with me tomorrow."
"My ranch has the best kitchen equipment in all of North America."
"You can recreate tonight's dinner for me anytime I want."
Tell me, how many zeros do you need to see on this piece of paper?
This was an openly blatant acquisition.
There is no room for negotiation.
Laurent stood beside the food cart.
His legs felt a little stiff.
The trousers, having been stretched tight for so long, had developed several unsightly creases.
He felt a sudden pang in his heart.
This blatant poaching bypassed him, the head chef and owner.
But Laurent dared not protest.
He kept his mouth tightly shut and deliberately slowed his breathing.
He knew very well that the capital behind this old man was enough to uproot the island's high-end catering industry within a week.
The immense pressure of power and wealth left him with no choice but to remain a silent observer.
The two bodyguards behind Charles made subtle changes to their postures.
The bald bodyguard shifted his right foot outward, his thigh muscles bulging instantly.
He was prepared to deal with any overreactions the young people might make.
Whether it's ecstasy or rejection.
Su Wei stood on the other side of the long dining table.
He stood with his feet apart, maintaining a stable center of gravity.
The hem of the black suit hung down naturally without a single wrinkle.
In his mind, countless pros and cons were rapidly being weighed.
A penthouse estate in Seattle.
No more starting that pickup truck every day in a blizzard at minus twenty degrees Celsius.
There's no need to worry about calculating the cost of building a manor.
They don't have to deal with the workers' exorbitant project fees.
Just a nod.
Simply write down an amazing number on this piece of paper.
You can instantly acquire wealth that ordinary people couldn't earn in several lifetimes.
There was no danger to their lives; they only needed to deal with the food that had been airlifted in.
This is the shortcut Charles offered.
The air was thick with the smell of money.
But this also means a kind of death.
It is the stripping away of all his current privileges.
Once he took off his suit and put on a crisp white chef's uniform.
Once he stood in front of the temperature-controlled, sterile operating table.
He was no longer the hunter who could lock onto giant beasts.