As Wang Zhuo and his group entered the "Mad Faction" bar discreetly, the atmosphere inside the venue was already raging like a fire. Fat Dragon had invited the hottest underground stand-up comedian in America.

He was called "underground's hottest" because the man constantly spewed vulgarities and crude jokes; he was essentially trash that couldn't make it onto a legitimate stage, yet his hosting skills—especially his improvisation and style—were genuinely beloved. While this style, riddled with obscenities, couldn't get him airtime on radio or television, it was wildly popular both online and in real life, akin to the contemporary Er Ren Zhuan acts from Northeast China—simply put, it was "playing dirty." At that moment, the heavy-set Black man holding the microphone was whipping the crowd into a frenzy, trying to coax volunteers onto the stage to "speak for themselves" and submit to his lewd interview questions.

Wang Zhuo's party entered through a side door, not drawing any attention. The hall was buzzing with intense excitement and loud cheers.

As Wang Zhuo walked, he curiously turned his head, using his X-ray vision to penetrate the surrounding walls, trying to see what event was causing such a ruckus. The sight made him burst into suppressed laughter.

The main hall of this bar resembled a fashion show venue: there was a T-shaped stage in the center, surrounded by bar tables spaced widely apart. The entire hall was vast, with the main bar situated opposite the T-stage.

On the waist-high T-stage, a portly Black man in a suit was ceaselessly jabbering into a microphone, his expressions rich and exaggerated, his delivery rapid, fluent, and tongue-twisting. Standing beside him were three young men whose restrained expressions showed awkward and difficult smiles.

It turned out the fat host was persuading them to pull down their pants and display the results of their enhancements. The more than two hundred spectators below were yelling and cheering, illustrating just how much this activity was unsuitable for children, and how popular it was.

"What in the world is Fat Dragon up to? Why is it so loud?" Lu Weimin muttered to Wang Zhuo.

Wang Zhuo chuckled and nodded: "Looks like they're having a blast." Speak of the devil, Fat Dragon happened to be coming out at that moment. With a broad smile, he hurried toward them, spreading his arms for a bear hug for Wang Zhuo.

Wang Zhuo subtly sniffed; the man carried a faint scent of elegant men's cologne— clearly not a cheap brand. "Haha, Boss, long time no see!" Fat Dragon released Wang Zhuo, slapped palms with Lu Weimin, and said heartily, "Hurry, come with me.

Let's rest for a bit and have a good chat!" Leaving the bodyguards in the hallway, the three entered the office Fat Dragon had prepared. Wang Zhuo sized up Fat Dragon from head to toe, realizing the kid had changed tremendously in the past six months.

Now that Fat Dragon was leaning on the mighty tree of the King of Wealth and controlled the scarce resource of the 'Big Man Enhancement Agent,' his status had soared far beyond that of the sleazy guy who used to pay a hundred yuan at a street-side hair salon for brief intimacy with an unemployed middle-aged woman. He now maintained close cooperative ties with both the US and Japan, the largest exporters of adult entertainment.

Backed by the Big Man Enhancement Agent, he had effectively become a local big shot—walking with the imposing gait of a dragon, utterly swaggering, and speaking with an air of superiority. His life was truly carefree.

But in front of Wang Zhuo, he remained that same sleazy fatty; he couldn't put on any pretense. The more comfortable his life became, the more profoundly he remembered where everything came from.

Being carried away by success was fine; the key was knowing for whom to show it. "You got inked?" Wang Zhuo frowned upon noticing a small patch of tattoo peeking out from inside his collar and asked.

Fat Dragon chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke, "It's just a little decoration; I'll show you!" It was a simple tattoo, just one clear, bright line of English letters: "* ***". Translated into Chinese, it meant, Welcome to My Adult World.

The first letter of this English phrase was located just below his collarbone, written horizontally across his body. The latter few letters had already disappeared beneath the line of his shorts!

"Crude, far too crude," Lu Weimin shook his head repeatedly. Wang Zhuo was speechless with amusement, cursing, "You actually got that tattooed?

Is your brain waterlogged?" "This is called personality! Don't you two think so?" Fat Dragon cried out aggrievedly, "Everyone else thinks it's cool!

Do you two have bad taste?" "I have no common language with you," Wang Zhuo waved his hand, half-annoyed and half-laughing, "Is this all you learned in the half-year you were in America?" Looking down on him! Fat Dragon snorted, "I've changed in many more ways than just that." Wang Zhuo pursed his lips, nodding playfully.

This fat man had pierced his earlobe, wearing a thick, shiny silver hoop. His round face was kept surprisingly fair and tender.

His half-inch short hair was deliberately left long at the back, tied into a 'teapot queue.' Around his neck and wrists, he wore gold chains as thick as fingers. On the ring finger of his left hand, he wore a vibrant green jade ring.

It was a haphazard mix, neither Eastern nor Western, the picture of a nouveau riche. Turning to Lu Weimin with a faint smile, Wang Zhuo teased, "With this whole look, if he threw in an English word every couple of sentences, he’d be even more individual." Lu Weimin pointed at Fat Dragon, laughing uncontrollably.

The teasing from the two left Fat Dragon scratching his head in embarrassment, forcing out a nervous laugh. Wang Zhuo raised his chin, deliberately provoking, "Is the moon really rounder in America than back home?" "Not necessarily," Fat Dragon’s eyes darted around, proudly stating, "But don't pout; American girls are definitely more exciting than domestic ones!" This guy...

Wang Zhuo and Lu Weimin were instantly struck speechless. This damned fatty truly couldn't steer away from his core nature, no wonder his nickname "Chinese Stud Pig" was so well-known!

However, this last statement by Fat Dragon was hard for the two to refute. China is a multi-ethnic country, possessing a slight advantage in racial complexity: there is the petite gentleness of Jiangnan women, the bold frankness of Northern girls, and the exotic flavor of some minority groups.

Meanwhile, America is a nation of myriad races and origins; the exact number of ethnic groups is almost impossible to count. In many Chinese cities, seeing a few Black or White people can be difficult, but in the US, you can find representations of multiple ethnicities within every single racial group on that land!

So, when Fat Dragon claimed American women were more exciting, Wang Zhuo and Lu Weimin truly couldn't argue. For a human like Fat Dragon, resembling a "stud pig," America indeed offered him more fertile ground!

Seeing Wang Zhuo and Lu Weimin exchange strange glances, Fat Dragon immediately became smug. He patted his round belly and said, "Don't mind my unremarkable appearance back in the country; people over here think I'm quite handsome.

You can despise me, saying it's the 'monk from a distant land sings the scriptures better,' but I really am popular here." Wang Zhuo could only smile wryly. Fat Dragon wasn't bragging; American aesthetics differ from Asian ones.

The most popular Asian supermodels in America are often considered ugly ducklings in Asia. Fat Dragon’s image domestically generally lacks appeal to women; it requires packaging upon packaging and throwing vast sums of money to successfully pick up girls.

But on this magical land called America, it wasn't impossible that some beautiful foreign women might genuinely like his type. "Forget it, let's get down to business," Wang Zhuo waved his hand helplessly, thinking this must just be a cultural difference.

He found Fat Dragon's tattoo hideous, but perhaps this style was currently trending in America. Why should he worry about it?

"Right, let's see what's happening downstairs!" Fat Dragon leaped up and hurried to a wall, pressing a few buttons on a controller. A large oil painting on the wall swiftly retracted, revealing a massive glass window behind it.

Pressing the switch again, the sounds from the hall downstairs filled the office. It turned out this office was where the bar owner, Camilla, usually worked, allowing her to conveniently monitor the bar's operations—such an office wasn't a secret; many entertainment venues had them.

The host was currently sitting by the stage, and a rock band was playing explosive music onstage. "The next act is the Guest PK," Fat Dragon chuckled wickedly, "Have you heard the story of the crow drinking water?

We’ll compete that way. The top three winners get prizes." "The crow drinking water?" Lu Weimin shook his head repeatedly, "Never heard of it.

What story is that?" "It’s the one where the water level in the bottle was too low, so the crow picked up many stones and dropped them in until the water rose, allowing it to drink," Wang Zhuo gave a strained laugh, pointing at Fat Dragon, "You really know how to play, kid. I'm more and more impressed." The PK competition started quickly.

More than ten medical graduated cylinders, filled with water, were lined up on the T-stage floor. The host announced that the "Big Man" with the greatest "water displacement" would be the victor.

Water displacement naturally meant comparing volume; length alone or girth alone wouldn't count. Once inserted into the cylinder, some water would overflow.

When taken out, the lower the water level corresponded to the scale mark on the cylinder, the greater the displacement, making the result clear at a glance. "You son of a bitch, you're too damn creative!" Lu Weimin was thoroughly convinced.

He truly admired Fat Dragon; this guy was a genius! Fat Dragon deserved much credit for the income and development the Big Man Enhancement Agent had achieved!

The venue erupted in clamor; the audience was utterly astonished and impressed by this competition. What kind of brain could conceive of such an idea?

Damn it all, the Chinese Stud Pig was magnificent! "You two, who's going up to present the award to the champion later?" Fat Dragon asked casually while watching the competition.

"Let Brother Min do it," Wang Zhuo immediately pushed the honor onto his older cousin. What a joke!

He was, after all, the King of Wealth; presenting an award for this kind of competition was far too undignified! "What's the prize?" Lu Weimin, captain of the Big Man, wasn't too concerned and asked casually, "What are the prizes?" "A three-day round-trip tour to Hawaii," Fat Dragon shrugged.

Just as Wang Zhuo and Lu Weimin thought the reward was rather respectable, he continued, "The complimentary female companion is last year’s Playboy Playmate of the Year." This was possible? Wang Zhuo slapped his forehead in speechless amusement.

He'd always heard people say everyone has an unreliable fat friend, and now he saw it was true!