Leon didn't utter a single "no." He only wanted to leverage Font's financial knowledge and business capabilities to help the company expand.
As for advice on picking stocks, he didn't want to hear even a punctuation mark.
Wall Street stockbrokers could hype up a worthless junk stock into a golden key to financial freedom. The commission for legitimate stocks was less than one percent, while junk stocks could reach an astonishing fifty percent.
They didn't care about the investor's profit or loss at all. When investors stood on the rooftop feeling the breeze because of losses, they would only stand aside holding a blonde white girl, smiling, and pretend to care by throwing out a sentence: "Hold steady! Floating loss isn't a loss!"
The financial industry itself doesn't create anything. Its essence is a capital intermediary—pooling large and small funds together and flowing them into the hands of the most influential capitalists in the market.
Leon glanced down at his watch. It was already 3:40 PM, with only 20 minutes left until the market close under Daylight Saving Time.
He waved his hand impatiently, interrupting Font's boasting. "I really appreciate your professional ability. If you didn't stay in the financial industry, maybe you could become an excellent stand-up comedian."
"You flatter me. Saying these things is just to let you deepen your understanding of me." Font squeezed out an awkward smile, unsure for a moment whether this was praise or ridicule.
"You don't have to say everything in one breath. I will have plenty of time to get to know you slowly in the future."
"You mean..." Font's eyes widened. The thing he was expecting seemed to be happening.
"That's right, exactly what you think." Leon took the initiative to extend his right hand. "I think there will be many places where I need to consult you in the future..."
"Please rest assured! Even if my wife enters the delivery room, I won't miss a single call from you!"
Font's volume rose three notches. Having secured such a heavyweight client, his joy was written all over his face.
Soon, Leon issued the first instruction after the cooperation—before the market closed today, spend a total of $600,000 to buy 20,000 shares of Tesla stock at the market price of $30 per share.
"Tesla? This company's operating condition isn't good, and the market is very pessimistic about its prospects." Font advised, "Elon Musk's decision-making style is very unstable. I'm not denying his ability, but as your private investment advisor, I must say that this instability means high risk. He has been hovering on the edge of bankruptcy."
"That doesn't matter. The key point is I like that guy, Elon Musk." Leon spread his hands.
Font choked and didn't know what to say. Although he had never heard Leon's works, he had a certain understanding of this client through major media reports.
The name of this 21-year-old young singer had even appeared in the financial section. Everyone knew he was very good at making money, with strong means and execution ability.
But now it seemed necessary to reassess this client's situation. This investment method of not looking at financial reports and sales data, and not assessing potential risks, was no different from other entertainment celebrities.
"Alright." Font nodded but wanted to make a final effort. "I mean I have more options to offer you. If you are interested in the automotive industry, General Motors stock would be a more stable investment..."
"No need, I have my own judgment," Leon knocked on the table and said in a deep voice.
Seeing the big client's resolute face, Font dared not say more.
Having dealt with entertainment celebrities a lot, he was already used to these far-fetched ideas.
He still remembered when Tyson saw reports of frequent rape cases on the news, he immediately slapped his thigh and wanted to start a production studio focusing on romantic action movies.
To save the American people from sexual repression.
A few minutes after Leon returned to the office, Bonnie followed him in, holding an A4 sheet of paper which she placed on the desk.
"This is the complete guest list for the Las Vegas Charity Poker Tournament tomorrow night."
He picked up the A4 paper and looked at it twice. The guests invited to the charity tournament were either sports superstars or heavyweights in the entertainment industry.
Michael Jordan, LeBron James, Tiger Woods, Robert Downey Jr., George Clooney, Bruno Mars...
Their common point was that they were not only famous but also very rich.
From this list, one could see the importance the organizer, Sands Corp, attached to this event. No wonder Charlie's female secretary, Angela, personally called Leon and demanded his attendance.
"This ngga is also on the guest list?" Seeing Drake's name on the list surprised Leon quite a bit.
Whether in fame or wealth, Drake couldn't compare with the others on the list. He simply loved all forms of gambling.
"Drake officially released his new album Take Care a few days ago. Maybe he wants to use this charity tournament to build momentum for the new album and show his face on this important occasion," Bonnie said.
"I think this bastard just purely loves gambling and wants to get some value out of me." Leon snorted coldly.
Like all other rappers, Drake often appeared in entertainment news due to his extravagant life.
Compared to conventional luxury cars and watches, his desire for gambling was greater.
In the UFC 135 match where Leon was a guest, the other party bet $500,000 on "The Bad Boy" Tito Ortiz.
The result was naturally a terrible loss, and in the end, it was Jon Jones who knelt on one knee to accept Leon's coronation.
"Maybe, what you said is very likely." Bonnie spread her hands. "You humiliated the artist of Young Money Records at the The Rap of America finals. Maybe they want to save some face at the poker table?"
While The Rap of America achieved huge success, it also caused considerable controversy. Entertainment magazines and social networks were full of verbal attacks on the show's "rigging."
"One Ear" Adam started spraying passionately on Bluebird (Twitter) as soon as he got off the show, angrily calling this the biggest disgrace in the history of talent shows with fierce wording.
One could hear the sound of his tears falling even through the screen.
As the boss, Lil Wayne immediately stood up, retweeted the tweet, and fired at Leon at the same time—"New Orleans will remember this disgrace. Just wait and see, white boy!"
New enmity added to old hatred. It wasn't hard for Leon to imagine that the one playing most aggressively at the poker table tomorrow night wouldn't be the richest Jordan, but Drake, who had the lowest status.
"Let him be. Unless Drake can cheat at the poker table, I can't imagine any way he can take advantage of me." Leon curled his lips, looking indifferent.
Just then, his phone rang. It was Taylor calling.
"What's wrong, dear..."
Before he could finish speaking, Taylor's lioness-like roar came from the other end of the phone: "Fck! Scumbag bastard, go to hell!"
Taylor rarely used foul language. Now, opening her mouth with a barrage of profanity immediately stunned Leon, almost blowing up the phone receiver.
He dared not answer for a moment, constantly reviewing in his mind: Was I photographed by paparazzi playing tennis with Robbie last night?
After a brief thought, he lowered his voice and said, "Listen to my explanation, dear... this matter is not what you think..."
Taylor didn't give him a chance to explain and roared hysterically again at the top of her lungs: "Damn Monteith! I'm going to tear you to pieces! You pathetic junkie full of lies!"
"Wait..."
Leon felt his head was a bit confused. Taylor didn't seem to be targeting him.
Cory Monteith, a second-rate Canadian actor, became famous in 2009 for starring in the FOX TV series Glee. Previously, he had been a marginal figure in Hollywood, playing bit roles in Final Destination 3 and Supernatural.
Most people knew his name not through his works, but through his identity as Taylor Swift's ex-boyfriend.
The two dated briefly for a period in May last year; the romance lasted less than two months.
"Calm down, dear. Tell me what happened?" Leon asked.
"You don't know what that bastard just said on a podcast in Los Angeles!!" Taylor's tone was angry with a hint of crying.
"What did he say?" Leon asked while typing the keyword "Cory Monteith" on the social network.
"Dear, you must trust me..." Taylor was roaring a second ago, and the next second she lowered her voice like an injured kitten. "Oh God, I don't know why he would make up those despicable and obscene stories to hurt me..."
"Stay calm, dear." Just as Leon pressed the enter key, a large number of live clips from the podcast appeared.
On a podcast in Los Angeles, Monteith talked eloquently with the host while smoking weed. Most of the content was about Taylor.
This wasn't the first time he had done this. The identity of "Taylor's ex-boyfriend" was a means of livelihood for him, a job more important than being an actor.
The money earned by selling his ex-girlfriend's privacy was more than the sum of his acting career earnings, but most of the revelations didn't involve privacy topics.
Therefore, even if Taylor was dissatisfied, she didn't take it seriously.
However, this time was different. Monteith acted out of character, frantically attacking Taylor on the podcast, calling her a pathological crazy girl with a "collection fetish."
He even broke the shocking news that Taylor was a junkie.
"Fck..." Leon cursed in a low voice while watching.
On the other end of the phone, Taylor almost burst into tears. "You have to believe me, dear. That's not the real me."
"Of course." Leon responded without hesitation.
If "collection fetish" was a bit based on hearsay, the junkie rumor was purely brainless smearing.
How could a white girl who didn't even smoke cigarettes touch weed?
If she didn't even touch entry-level products like green plants, the more extreme drugs Monteith mentioned were even more nonsense.
Leon patiently watched all five minutes of the live clips.
At the end of the podcast, Monteith, completely high, fired at Taylor while also dragging Leon into it, ranting in the program: "I thought her romance with Leon wouldn't last more than two months. Now I admit my judgment was wrong. That crazy girl and the street bastard are a perfect match!"
He fired at full power for nearly a minute. The content could be summarized in one sentence—"Bitch matches with dog, I wish you last forever"!
"Why are there always bastards running into the muzzle recently..." Leon gritted his teeth secretly.
As the most controversial male singer at the moment, he was used to people leeching off his traffic, but there were always blind fools who couldn't grasp the bottom line of leeching.
Taylor stood on the persona of a "perfect idol." If the exposed content stopped at romance gossip, the impact on her image wouldn't be too bad.
But touching on the topic of drugs was serious; this would lead to a large wave of fans unfollowing.
Plus, the exposer was an ex-boyfriend. Even if a blood test certificate was issued, there would always be fans without judgment who believed it deeply.
"I didn't expect Monteith could do such a shameless thing for money. My stomach hurts from anger; I can't even eat." Taylor tried her best to control her emotions, her tone full of helplessness.
"You still have to eat dinner." Leon comforted, "Don't take this to heart. I trust you completely."
Taylor felt warm in her heart. After being silent for nearly ten seconds, she said, "Does this count as unconditional trust?"
"Of course. What that bastard said is simply ridiculous. what do you plan to do next?"
"I don't know either. Scott is in a meeting with the PR team, preparing countermeasures," Taylor said. "There is a high probability that I need to personally issue a denial statement, and then entrust a lawyer to send a letter to Monteith according to the routine process."
"?"
"Doing so cannot fully restore your lost reputation. Letting Monteith stand up and clarify rumors himself is the best outcome." Leon was experienced in this kind of thing.
Ariana had encountered the same incident. At that time, Leon used some special means to give her ex-boyfriend Dean a little "street shock."
Violence cannot solve all problems, but most of the time it is the best solution to solve problems, especially when facing bastards.
That crisis PR handling was textbook, perfectly maintaining Ariana's public image as "America's Sweetheart."
"You mean let me actively beg Monteith to apologize in the media?" Taylor complained, "I never want to see that guy's face, let alone say a word to him!"
"I didn't ask you to do that. I want to talk to Monteith, in a man's way, face-to-face."
Leon reviewed the incident several times in his mind and finally decided to take this matter upon himself.
Behind Monteith's seemingly drug-induced nonsense, things might not be that simple. It was extremely likely related to the "Battle for Taylor" between record companies.
Maybe it couldn't be separated from those opponents who had long invested heavily in smearing him.
Born in Canada, Monteith was no different from all the bottom-rung white people in America. His childhood was a standard hellish start.
After his parents divorced, he wandered around the neighborhood and dropped out in the ninth grade.
This was almost the lowest level of education. You know, even rappers from black neighborhoods mostly have high school or community college diplomas.
At 16, he had already started smoking weed, drinking excessively, and stealing relatives' wallets. He had been sent to rehab twice just for that—an out-and-out junkie.
A fallen junkie smearing his ex-girlfriend under the temptation of money—Leon's train of thought became instantly clear.
The next step was to find Monteith and verify this idea.
Hearing that Leon wanted to solve the problem in a "man's way," Taylor almost melted under the off-the-charts boyfriend material.
Using a gentle and sweet voice, pinching her throat, she said, "I really want to fly to New York now and kiss your cheek hard, my dear little lion!"
"Just a kiss?"
"You can be as willful as you want, dear~"
"Be serious. Your name is still on the trending search now." Leon curled his lips and rocked the swivel chair. "I might not be able to get away tomorrow. I have to participate in a poker tournament in Las Vegas. Damn charity event, you know. During this period, don't let your PR team slack off. Hurry up and issue a strong denial statement!"
"Mhm!" On the other end of the phone, Taylor nodded seriously.
"I have an important new song promotion event in Tokyo in three days, but I promise you, before I fly across the Pacific, I will give Monteith a lesson he will never forget for life."
Taylor was moved endlessly, calling him "little lion" affectionately. The two were lovey-dovey for a while and chatted for another ten minutes before hanging up.
According to Leon's understanding of Monteith, although this junkie had gained some fame with Glee, he was still in a state of having no fixed abode in Los Angeles, frequently changing rental locations.
Finding him within just two days wasn't an easy task, so he had to use some special information channels.
He immediately thought of an old friend's name—in Los Angeles, there was one person who could easily find any junkie.
Leon took out his phone and dialed the number. As soon as it connected, a familiar deep voice came through.
"You haven't called me for a long time, buddy. Are you too busy with big business that you forgot your old pal?"
"Not at all." Leon lowered his voice and said, "Listen to me, Saint. I want you to help me find someone, a hopeless junkie who can't live without drugs every day!"