In the office on the second floor of the Beast House, Vincent's cowboy hat was pushed down very low, casting a large shadow on his face. The protruding aquiline nose seemed to peck at the heart's core.

Michael, the nightclub publicist, was inexplicably flustered and quickly covered it up with words: "The House of Beasts has been open for less than a month. It takes time to accumulate customers, fame and reputation."

He has promoted nightclubs that serve men, but this is the first time that he has served women. He cannot take the blame: "You are too impatient, and running a business requires a process."

Vincent spoke calmly: "That's not what you said when you got the commission 25 days ago."

Thinking of the $10,000 commission, Michael cheered up: "Give me another month. It's not because I don't work hard, but because there is a problem with the environment."

It’s impossible to get the money back, he doesn’t have that much money anymore: “You also know, Georgia’s damn regulations, we can’t advertise directly in the media and shopping malls, we can only promote privately to women’s groups. Nowadays, extreme conservatives

The Methodist Association is causing trouble everywhere, and the media and public opinion are adding fuel to the fire, and many women have concerns about consumption places like the House of Beasts."

Vincent didn't even raise his eyelids: "Where is the big star you promised to come to the club to have fun?"

Direct advertising is not possible, but there is no problem with side news coverage of big stars appearing in the club.

Michael said: "I'm still in touch."

Vincent raised his head slightly, his aquiline nose getting sharper: "As a female star in Georgia, if you can't get Julia Roberts, Holly Hunter can do it."

Michael was dumbfounded, these two Oscar-winning actresses!

Vincent said slowly: "You asked for a reward of 10,000 US dollars, and I gave it to you. Do you know why?"

Michael said bravely: "I'm worth the price."

Vincent raised a finger: "First, I want to use money to mobilize your enthusiasm." He raised another finger: "Second, I am sure to recover the corresponding price."

Michael leaned forward, unconsciously pleading: "Give me a little more time."

Vincent picked up the phone and dialed the bar: "Bruce, let me know. The place will be cleared in fifteen minutes. No one is allowed to leave work. An internal meeting will be held."

Michael couldn't help but worry, sweat broke out on his forehead: "You...what are you going to do."

"The House of Beasts is a legitimate business place that abides by the law and will not do anything illegal." Vincent stood up and walked out: "I want to gather my men and listen to their opinions."

Seeing that he was not killed, Michael felt relieved and said: "Would you rather believe those idiots who can't read newspapers than give professionals a little more time?"

Vincent went straight out.

He also wanted to believe in professionals, but professionals did not bring customer flow.

Michael quickly followed.

Fifteen minutes later, all the employees of the Beast Club, including the gigolos, were standing near the stage.

Martin and Bruce stayed on the far left, waiting for the boss to speak.

Vincent stood on the ring stage, glanced at everyone, and said: "You all know the customer flow of the club, do you have any ideas?"

Hart, who was only wearing short shorts, was the first to say: "Boss, let's go back to our old business? Those sluts are so crazy, my brother gets pinched every day."

Vincent said: "Bruce, if Hart talks nonsense like this again, you use the most civilized way and stuff the bar stool into his butt."

Hart glanced at Bruce, his lips trembling: "I would rather he use mortar shells."

Michael followed Hart's gaze, saw Martin again, and began to make calculations.

Vincent asked: "Where are the others?"

No one spoke for the time being.

Martin has some ideas, but his boss doesn't mention whether they have any benefits.

Whoever bothers to do something that is not beneficial should have the consciousness of a wage earner.

"Very good. As expected of my brother, nothing can be done without mentioning rewards." Vincent raised his cowboy hat slightly: "Whoever can steadily double the passenger flow and double the salary of the House of Beasts will be rewarded with a reward of US$10,000."

When he heard about the $10,000 reward, Michael couldn't help but jump out and said, "I have an idea."

Everyone looked at Michael, but Michael pointed at Martin: "As long as he cooperates, I can solve it."

Martin was puzzled.

Michael was afraid that others would steal the bonus: "Why can't the club attract a large number of customers? Because we lack star-level gigolos!"

He pointed at Martin: "With his conditions and professional choreography training, I can make him a superstar in Atlanta's nightclubs, making those hungry sluts go crazy for him and wet him..."

Martin said in his heart, what kind of hatred, you actually want to use a hungry slut to kill me? He immediately interrupted: "Boss, this person is too exaggerated. I admit, I am very good-looking, but also

Not to the extent he said, and Hart and the others are not bad either."

Vincent's trust in Michael had collapsed, and he turned his eyes: "Ivan, throw him out."

Ivan and his little golden retriever grabbed Michael and dragged him out. Michael wanted to shout, but felt something pressing on his waist and quickly shut up.

Vincent asked: "What about you?"

Including Bruce, their eyes turned to Hart and immediately looked back.

Hart's brother is swollen every day, and they don't want that.

After seeing the benefits, Martin became an excellent wage earner and said: "Boss, I have an idea."

Vincent looked at the other silent subordinates, turned around and went upstairs: "Follow me."

Just as Martin was about to follow, Bruce suddenly said: "I heard that veterinarian Bill has a way to treat swollen penises in cattle and sheep. You'd better consult in advance."

"Don't mention the vet to me!" Martin gave Bruce a middle finger and followed Vincent to the second floor.

Bruce waited for a long time and there was no movement.

Hart clapped his hands and shouted to the other dancers: "Guys, pack a cabinet out of the locker room, we're going to have a new guy."

Bruce picked up a barstool.

Hart turned around and left: "Bruce, you said you wanted to be a civilized person."

…………

The office on the second floor fell silent, and Vincent's face was still covered in the shadow of the cowboy hat.

What Martin said just now was beyond his, and even his father and brother's, understanding. It was not a method they understood at all.

Vincent asked: "Where did you learn this?"

Martin once again pulled out Jack Davis: "Old bastard Jack is the most versatile guy in Atlanta."

Vincent just looked at Martin.

"I'm an actor. I've been working on film sets since I was 16 years old, studying media and public opinion hype, and dreaming of becoming famous." With Martin's acting skills, it seems like it's real: "I've seen many successful film and television cases, and the media is so arrogant.

I also understand his style.”

Vincent asked: "How sure are you?"

Martin thought for a moment and said: "Sixty percent."

Vincent asked again: "What do you need?"

Martin said: "Bruce, find a few more reliable people to help me, and the labor and other expenses incurred during the period..."

"The club is responsible." Vincent was not stingy when it came to motivation: "As long as you succeed, your debt will be eliminated, your salary will be doubled, and you will receive a bonus of US$5,000."

Martin didn't ask about failure, and Hart is an example.
Chapter completed!