Chapter 203: Anger

"Is there something? Carl?"

Li Mochen walked down the stairs looking refreshed after his training: "Or has your company got something to discuss with me again?"

"The company won't take any new moves until you defeat Kadio Rhode. This time I'm here for that Belinda."

As Carl spoke, he didn't notice Angela beside him suddenly perk up her ears. She was carefully observing and scrutinizing Li Mochen, but in the end found nothing.

He showed no signs of anything unusual, not at all like someone who had just robbed the Blood Hand Gang of over a hundred million gold shields.

"Didn't you ask me to renegotiate with the Los Angeles Cultural Brokerage Company? They agreed—one million gold shields, shooting here on Monday or Tuesday. They made one condition: they want to borrow your apartment."

"Agree to them, but charge an extra 500,000 gold shields for the use of the place, okay Carl? If they're shooting an MV, they'll definitely mess the place up."

Li Mochen looked at Carl with a hint of inquiry. After all, although he lived in this duplex apartment, the property rights belonged to Nathan Sports Group.

"Alright!"

Carl didn't care about that, but he felt Li Mochen was being a bit greedy. A four-minute music video usually had a production budget of no more than three million gold shields.

"But we can't use that as the reason. Let's call it compensation for disrupting your studies. I'll continue negotiating with them; I don't know if they'll agree. But A-Mo, you really should hire an agent—"

Before he could finish, Angela raised her hand and interrupted: "Sorry to butt in, but the Belinda you're talking about—Belinda Harris, right? She wants you to shoot an MV? Why agree to her? You're from the fighting world, she's from the music world—you don't match at all."

"I don't know why she chose me either, but I need money."

Li Mochen looked at the girl with a strange expression: "I really need gold shields right now, Angela."

Even though he had robbed the Blood Hand Gang of over a hundred million gold shields, that didn't mean he wasn't short of money.

Dirty money was always dirty money; even after laundering, it might not become clean. Whether it was the FBI, the police, or the IRS, if they wanted to investigate, they could still trace it. Otherwise, Antonio wouldn't have kept such a large sum of cash in a bank vault.

So Li Mochen didn't plan to let that money have any connection with his legitimate ventures. At most, he would use part of it to repay the loan from the Red Sparrow Club, since the money they lent him wasn't from regular channels either.

But aside from that, Rising Sun Company had a new loan totaling 12 million gold shields at 16% annual interest. And it was foreseeable that during his war with the Blood Hand Gang, he would have to spend tens of millions of gold shields.

Dwight Payton could help him smooth over certain relationships, but Li Mochen still had to pay for the necessary bribes and favors himself.

He didn't want to owe Dwight too many favors; this also helped him expand his network.

"They're attracted to A-Mo's image and his popularity among young girls on the East Coast."

Carl Holton also explained: "Belinda is the youngest A-list female star in America right now, with fans across both coasts. This benefits our company's promotion of him—it's a win-win."

"But—"

Angela frowned: "Haven't you considered that Belinda might have ulterior motives? Bad intentions?"

"Ulterior motives? Bad intentions?"

Carl and Li Mochen exchanged glances, both looking puzzled: "It's just an MV shoot. What could she achieve? If it's about A-Mo's image, don't worry—our image consultant will be there the whole time."

"That's not what I mean."

Angela looked as if she wanted to say something but held back. In the end, she couldn't get the words out and walked out angrily: "Forget it, saying anything now is useless. Just be careful, A-Mo. That woman is deliberately getting close to you, you know? I advise you not to do anything you'll regret."

Li Mochen looked bewildered as Angela walked out, then shook his head and walked to the dining table.

To his relief, the soup Angela had brought him this time was, by Medici family standards, a 'common' medicinal broth, made mainly from ingredients that clear heat, detoxify, and soothe the meridians.

So he happily brought the bowl to his lips, sipping it slowly while asking: "Do you understand what she meant, Carl?"

"I guess she's jealous—afraid you'll be charmed by Belinda or even stolen away. She must really like you, so she's worried. That's how young girls are."

As Carl said this, his mind stirred. He knew Angela's identity. If the two of them ever reached a certain point, Li Mochen could really save decades of struggle and even be qualified to inherit the Wieldenstein Group.

But that possibility was slim—

"Still, we can't completely ignore it. I know Angela and Belinda both come from Stellar Noble Academy and are about the same age. I guess they know each other."

"So I shouldn't take it lightly, right?"

Li Mochen was thoughtful, recalling the inexplicable hostility he had sensed from Belinda that day.

"Second thing—you mentioned before about submitting your comic to publishers?"

Carl Holton steered the conversation back: "We've sent your comic drafts to three publishers. Thanks to my boss's connections, they'll expedite the review process and get back to you as soon as possible. I've left them my number; keep an eye out these next few days."

Li Mochen's heart suddenly grew anxious, experiencing a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time.

Previously, whether in fights or the robbery of Craig Community Bank, Li Mochen had been very confident. That was because he knew and trusted his own abilities. But with comics—first, it was his first time; second, he wasn't sure about his drawing style, which had some Eastern elements, or the plot.

Whether his drafts would pass review or sell well was unknown.

After all, among the people around him, except for William Jacques, the others' evaluations were not high. Most thought the plot was too simple and childish.

"And—"

Carl Holton placed a thick stack of documents on the dining table, his expression serious: "Mr. Payton asked me to tell you: since you've started, don't stop. The Dragon Witch Cult is a monster—cut off one head, and another will grow back."