Chapter 374: Ready to Launch

"Are you trying to provoke me, sir?"

Felton Williams' eyes once again gleamed with a golden luster, and a flush appeared on his face.

Speaking of fans, he was indeed very displeased. Why had he, after three years of fame, only now secured an endorsement deal worth over nine million gold shields a year? While Andre, who had only emerged a few months ago, had already earned over a hundred million gold shields?

On what grounds? Just because of that face?

"It's a fact. His ability to drive sales is already several times yours, Felton. Do you know how many units of that lucky bracelet have been sold? Two hundred and eighty thousand. The company headquarters has placed additional orders; they predict the bracelet's sales will eventually reach six to eight hundred thousand units. This single product alone will bring the Nathan Group over three billion gold shields in profit. Carl Holton of the Eastern Region has secured the position of Eastern Region Marketing Director based solely on this product plan."

The middle-aged man's face was full of smiles, but they were cold and devoid of any emotion: "The company's directors have completely regarded him as a cash cow. They're asking why more company resources aren't being invested in the lucky Andre?"

Williams knew the man beside him was instigating, but he couldn't help his aura turning oppressive and violent: "Wow, hearing you say that, I wish I could fight him right now and tear that cute face of his apart. I kind of regret it now. That lucky Andre, there was a girl with him who wanted to bet with me, saying I was no match for him. The bet was a private jet, a Saint Eagle 350. Ridiculous, isn't it? A fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girl—I wonder if her boyfriend will end up paying?"

"A girl?"

The middle-aged man looked at him with a strange expression: "If I'm not mistaken, that should be Angela Medici. The heiress of the Michel Group, assets worth hundreds of billions of gold shields. The entire upper class is buzzing with rumors that this Medici princess has taken a liking to Andre, the frog prince."

Felton Williams was stunned for a moment: "So you're saying I just missed out on a Saint Eagle 350? A private jet worth fifty-eight million gold shields? See, now I want to tear him apart even more."

"Tear him apart? That's no easy task. Felton, I can confirm that the Eastern Region has concealed some of his physical test data. And that's why I brought you here today—"

The middle-aged man took the cigar from his lips and pointed ahead: "Ordinary opponents can't force Andre to show his true strength. But this time is different. Five combatants with power close to thirteenth-level Outlaws are enough to sweep through the current Linden Academy. And if that Andre doesn't want to be swept off the stage, he'll have to show some real skill."

...

Meanwhile, in Box 15 not far away, Mandev Ferguson had just entered from outside. He handed his wool coat to the assistant beside him and walked apologetically toward the figure standing by the window with hands clasped behind his back.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Wiltonshtain! I didn't expect you to come in person. I just went to Box 3; Rasher Emmer, the new Southeast Region president of Arcadis Sporting Goods, and several people from Saber-Tooth Company and Ante Equipment were there, and I spent some time with them."

"I know you're over there."

The figure by the window was a man in his forties, with a broad forehead and thick black eyebrows, exuding an imposing presence: "How's the atmosphere over there? They must have confidence, right?"

"There is confidence, but before the match ends, who can be one hundred percent certain of the outcome?"

Mandiven Ferguson replied with a smile: "But these companies have burned their bridges, mobilizing every resource they can. This lucky Andrew is gaining momentum fast, already influencing the purchasing choices of millions. If they can't suppress him here, they'll have to wait until the national competition."

"I hope they succeed."

The man from the Wiltonshire family turned his head: "And you? Are you ready?"

"Everything is in place. I've raised a total of two hundred million shields in war funds. At your command, I can fully blockade the Georgia Post and the Atlanta Laborer Daily. Within three days at most, I won't allow any bookstore or newsstand in Atlanta to carry these two papers. Additionally, the 'Dark Hand' has accepted my commission. They've promised that once the funds are in place, the 'Dark Hand' will assemble a professional team to attack the Sunrise Publishing transport convoy, ensuring that subscribers to both papers receive no effective service for the next month."

Mandiven Ferguson's expression carried a hint of pride: "And of course, his Sunrise Electric Retail Company—I've already gathered plenty of material: store managers colluding with unscrupulous merchants to sell counterfeit goods, hiring illegal immigrants, excessive formaldehyde from rushed store renovations, and aggressively pushing Japanese products to customers for higher profit margins. These scandals may not truly bring down Sunrise Electric Retail, but they'll be enough to keep them mired in a quagmire of scandal for the next few months, unable to extricate themselves."

"Exactly that! No need to hold back."

The man from the Wiltonshire family nodded with appreciative eyes: "Mandiven, I have always trusted your loyalty and ability completely! And you haven't disappointed me."

"Of course, everything I have comes from your grace."

Mandiven Ferguson placed his hand over his chest and bowed with utmost respect. But at the same time, he appropriately expressed concern: "However, sir, forgive my frankness—with my own strength alone, I can indeed cause that lucky Andrew some setbacks, but I cannot completely defeat him. As far as I know, his armed force is very formidable. It's hard to believe that someone like Michael Wood, a renowned military figure, has accepted his recruitment. And before that, he was already able to crush the Blood Hand's forces within weeks. Moreover, I've heard that Mr. Conshuri Wiltonshire—"

"No need to worry about that. Since I've set you in motion, I naturally have a foolproof plan. You don't need to worry about your own safety."

The forty-year-old man interrupted Mandiven, then spoke as he sat down in a chair: "Now, let's just watch the match in peace, shall we? I just placed a bet—ten thousand shields, odds of 1:8.9, betting that St. Macon High School will win within one minute."

Mandiven Ferguson was surprised: "Mr. Wiltonshire, you have such an interest? But one minute—that's unlikely."

"Just a small amount of money, no loss if it fails."

A sardonic smile appeared on the man's lips: "I truly hope so. It's not like I could hope that bastard wins, right? I'm not that magnanimous."