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墨書 Inktalez
"During this time, the name I've heard the most is Liquid Snake," Jin Bing said, narrowing his eyes as the smoke from his cigar curled around him. "Now that I've met him in person, it's clear that he lives up to the reputation. Coming here alone takes real guts!"
"The name I've heard the most since entering this industry is Jin Bing," Shasha replied with a confident smile, exuding an air of authority. "Seeing you today, I can see why you are called the Underground Emperor. Your presence is so overwhelming that I can barely catch my breath."
Her last remark carried a hint of mockery, subtly ridiculing his physique, which was more suited for an emperor.
As soon as she spoke, Jin Bing remained composed, but the others around them were filled with anger and seemed ready to take action.
"What are you doing?" Jin Bing snapped, his expression icy. "Who gave you permission to act on your own? Don't forget your place; we can't let anyone laugh at our lack of hospitality!"
Though he directed his words at his subordinates, his gaze was fixed on Shasha, turning the tables on her.
Shasha merely smiled in response; such verbal sparring meant little to her. The real focus would be on the negotiations ahead.
With a gesture inviting her inside, Jin Bing led the way while leaving his entourage outside the hotel.
As previously mentioned, this was a one-on-one negotiation; after all, no one could speak for these two individuals.
Once inside the hotel, they found only a single table in the grand hall, flanked by two VIP chairs with two attendants standing by to cater to any needs.
Seeing this, Shasha confidently approached and pulled out the chair facing south before sitting down.
Jin Bing raised an eyebrow but didn't show any anger. He took a seat in the guest chair and waved for one of the attendants to bring a bottle of red wine.
Looking at the wine's deep red hue with hints of gold, Shasha clicked her tongue. "Bordeaux Golden Liquid."
"Good eye, it seems Mr. Liquid Snake is also a connoisseur of fine wine." Jin Bing gestured for him to proceed, then took a sip himself, a look of enjoyment crossing his face. "Although many exquisite wines have emerged lately, I have a particular fondness for this golden liquid. Do you know why?"
Shasha took a sip of the wine, shrugged, indicating he didn't know.
Jin Bing swirled the wine in his glass, watching the golden liquid ripple against the sides, gradually narrowing his eyes. "Because this wine has historically been reserved for emperors! Only emperors are worthy of enjoying it, only they can appreciate its subtleties!"
Shasha paused in his tasting, a faint smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth, implying that not being an emperor meant one was unworthy.
"You have the potential of an emperor, but you are not one," Jin Bing said lightly. "If you had appeared years ago, you would have already lost your life drinking before me. But now you know very well that I dare not act against you."
Shasha raised an eyebrow. "Then let's speak plainly. What situation does Mr. Jin Bing desire?"
"America is currently at a balance point; I can ensure that political interests are evenly distributed, making me a major player while the others are merely minor ones. Now, you have consolidated these minor players into two major ones without disrupting the balance." Jin Bing continued, removing two rings and laying them in his palm. "Right now, we are like these two rings; before any collision occurs, they remain undamaged and fit well together. But if one were to break, the balance would shatter. The owner of the broken ring would have to choose a new one!"
With that, he crushed the two rings tightly in his hand and then opened it again; they had turned into scrap metal.
"So your point is that we should maintain peace for now?" Shasha chuckled lightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Jin Bing's ring theory. He downed the golden liquid and said casually, "Even if you don't initiate conflict, what about your subordinates? Can they be restrained? What about mine?"
"If you cannot control your subordinates, it only shows you lack any leadership ability," Jin Bing replied as he pulled out a box of special Cuban cigars from his jacket pocket and offered one to Shasha. "You are a smart man; let's resolve this like intelligent people. What do you want? Money? Territory? Assets?"
Shasha burst into laughter at this. "Truly befitting someone of your stature, Mr. Jin Bing speaks so grandly! Then I shall not fall behind either—how about 100 million dollars to buy a balance? What do you think?"
The moment the figure of 100 million was mentioned, Jin Bing's expression suddenly turned cold; he even forgot to light his cigar. After a moment's pause, he slowly said, "Don't be too greedy, young man."
Shasha shook his head with a smile as he clipped the end of the cigar and lit it up, taking a deep drag and exhaling thick smoke. "If it weren't for greed, why would I be sitting here before you?"
Jin Bing remained silent for a moment before suddenly bursting into a peculiar laugh, one that sounded as if he were struggling to catch his breath. His laughter was filled with an inexplicable sense of admiration. "Alright, I can give you the money, but remember what I said today. If you ever violate our agreement, I won't hesitate to break the balance and go to war with you!"
"Then, let's have a pleasant cooperation," Shasha said, biting down on his cigar and revealing a wild grin.
Jin Bing nodded and slowly stood up, allowing a servant to drape a fur coat over his shoulders as he rose.
Once Jin Bing left, Shasha gradually reined in his smile. The conversation they just had nearly sparked a major conflict; had Jin Bing been a bit more impulsive, it would have led to an attack from the group waiting outside the hotel.
Although Shasha was not afraid, he knew he would suffer significant injuries. As he sighed in relief, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.
If he could eliminate Jin Bing, Shasha was confident he could take over Jin Bing's influence. However, he wasn't yet prepared to oppose the political scene in America. He needed to gain power that those politicians could not ignore in order to replace him legitimately.
With the cigar still in his mouth, Shasha casually draped his jacket over his shoulder and walked out of the hotel wearing only a camouflage vest and bare arms.
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