In Mars' view, instead of dealing with these old gamblers at the table, it was better to let Leon join.
Since they were both "fish" from the entertainment industry, he pinned his hopes of turning things around on Leon.
"No problem!" Leon agreed without thinking.
After Mars violently drove away a player whose chips were running low, Leon joined the table.
Both of them held the idea that the other was a "fish," and the game began strangely like this.
Leon adhered to the "tight aggressive" strategy, never making random moves without strong enough hands.
When his hand was strong, he controlled the bet sizing well, making it difficult for the opponent to fold their hand.
Mars didn't expect this newcomer, who was five years younger than him, to play as calmly as an old gambler.
Soon, his remaining 400,000 in chips were exploited by other players.
In just one hour, Leon ate 50,000 dollars' worth of value from Mars.
Phil stomped his feet anxiously behind him. "Man, let me play a few rounds!"
"I'll eat that kid alive!"
Leon rolled his eyes at Phil and ignored him.
"Reload! Shxt! I need to reload!"
"Don't run, any of you, I'll be back right away!"
Other players unanimously chose to pause the game. What's the fun in thousand-year-old foxes hunting each other?
Better to seize this golden opportunity to eat full value from this fool.
The assistant behind Mars looked troubled. "I think let's forget it for today... we've already lost a lot of money..."
"Fxxk! It's just two million dollars! I can earn it back in less than a month!"
"Listen to me, Lambert! Get that damn manager over here!"
"I want to reload!"
The assistant couldn't dissuade Mars, who was already tilted, and could only helplessly shake his head and ask the hotel manager for help.
Celebrities of Mars' level didn't need to carry cash when entering such venues.
Hotels would provide a certain credit limit based on their income capability.
Basketball superstar Michael Jordan also loved various poker games. It is said that he had at least 100 million dollars in on-site credit at all hotels under the Sands Group!
Although Mars had reached the top of the Billboard charts and was an out-and-out human money-printing machine...
As a newcomer, the hotel's credit limit for him was limited.
The gamblers at the table were like thirsty sharks, fiddling with chips and staring at Mars.
Before long, a waiter brought a tray full of chips and placed it in front of him.
A full 500,000 dollars!
Mars, with his ammunition replenished, began various mysterious operations again...
Slow-playing AA, checking top hands to trap, bluffing ALL IN on the river with trash hands...
His operations had long been figured out by the old gamblers. The newly replenished 500,000 dollars was eaten clean in just half an hour.
"Fxxk... this is basically robbery..."
Watching Leon counting chips, Phil's eyes were red with envy.
Sensing the other party's burning gaze, Leon quickly tossed a chip over.
100 dollars.
Having won a full 100,000 dollars, he only threw Phil 100 dollars.
"You are the stingiest devil I've ever seen..."
Mars' eyes were empty at this time, completely devoid of the excitement just now.
He kept asking his assistant to communicate with the hotel manager again, but this time the assistant refused no matter what.
Having lost his mind, he could only act on his own.
Leon looked at the time on his phone and said, "I think it's time for us to leave."
"WTF?! Isn't that kid going to get money again?" Phil sneered. "Can you spit out the big fish that's already in your mouth? Truly incredible..."
To this, Leon responded: "Even the stupidest big fish will bite you back when luck is good."
"There are no permanent winners at the poker table."
Phil was a bit unwilling. He still fantasized about waiting for Mars and eating some value from him.
But ten minutes passed, and there was still no sign of the other party.
"This idiot was probably persuaded to leave by his assistant... If this goes on, he's not far from bankruptcy."
Leon and his group walked just a few steps out of the lobby when they saw Mars by the corridor.
A fierce argument was breaking out between him and his assistant.
"Damn it... are you sure this hotel only gave me a credit limit of 2.5 million?"
"To be precise, it's 2 million... The hotel manager is your fan and added a temporary limit of 500,000..."
"Shxt! Is the owner of the Trump Group a stupid pig? Am I only worth this little money?"
"Stop it, Mars. Today is not your lucky day."
No matter how the assistant persuaded, he couldn't dispel Mars' idea of continuing to charge.
He even proposed calling his boss, Julie Greenwald, CEO of Atlantic Records.
Asking the boss to advance next week's record sales dividends.
The assistant hurriedly stopped this stupid behavior. "That woman will scold you bloody!"
Just then, Leon walked up to Mars.
"Seems like you've encountered some small trouble..."
Mars denied it immediately: "No such thing! Just a mere 2.5 million dollars!"
"Bro, don't you know how popular I am right now? Before long, I'll be as rich as Jay-Z!"
The corner of Leon's mouth rose forty-five degrees. "I understand, I understand all this... I mean, I happen to have some chips in my hand."
"Fxxk! What do you take me for, Bro?!"
Mars instinctively thought Leon wanted to lend him money, which caused strong resistance in him.
Borrowing money from a newcomer who couldn't even squeeze into the Billboard Top 10?
This was simply a humiliation.
Especially considering Leon's notorious reputation in the circle, if he borrowed this money, maybe one day it would be exposed as dirt.
"No, no... it's not what you think... I mean I happen to have some chips in my hand, you can take them and use them."
Mars was dumbfounded instantly. "You mean give them to me? Don't joke, Bro, I don't lack this little money at all..."
"No, no, no..." Leon shook his finger. "I'm saying that Porsche outside is pretty cool."
Hearing this, Mars was stunned for half a minute.
Leon continued, "This has nothing to do with borrowing money. I know you don't lack this little money at all."
"It's just that you happen to need a sum of money now, and I really like your car."
"This is a transaction, a normal transaction between friends."
Before Leon could finish speaking, Mars suddenly shouted, "No problem! If you like it! Because we are friends!"
"WTF... Mars, are you crazy?" The assistant was sweating anxiously on the side.
That Porsche 997 GT3 had a starting market price of 185,000 dollars.
And now Mars was actually going to sell this almost brand-new Porsche for 100,000 dollars.
But no matter how the assistant persuaded, Mars, eager to return to the table, couldn't listen to a single word.
"Here are the keys. Just drive it away~ You can contact my assistant anytime for the transfer procedures!"
"May you kill everyone at the table next, my friend!"
Leon patted Mars' shoulder and walked impatiently towards the parking lot.
"Shxt... this kid's brain might really have some problems."
After witnessing Leon's showy operation, Phil firmly believed that Mars was mentally retarded.
Leon shook his head. For celebrities, they would rather suffer a small financial loss than lose their reputation.
"Believe it or not, that guy still has to thank me."
As soon as the voice fell, Mars' shout came from not far away: "Thank you, Leon, My bro~"
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