"Beverly Hills. Seems like you've got a big client this time. Good luck, buddy."
"Is this the best human residence? Looks so-so. Why is there not even a single grave? Isn't it troublesome if someone dies here?" Blackie floated beside Chen Zhao. "I thought that there should be a graveyard in the most luxurious human residence."
"It'll be amazing if the small river over there can be replaced by flowing lava," Beelzebub commented.
"That's right. It'll be even more perfect if the smell of sulfur in the air is stronger, and there's some blood stingers growing on both sides of the river."
"Why are the three of you here? Did you sneak onto the car again?" With his face darkening, Chen Zhao stared at the three talkaholics.
"We heard that you're going to the most luxurious human place, so we came here to take a look… The result is so disappointing."
Chen Zhao glared at the three demons, speechless. "Don't use you demons' perspective to look at human things. I'm creeped out by your imagination of an ideal home."
According to their understanding of home, the developer would need to build a manor beside a volcano vent, together with a graveyard, to satisfy their requirements.
Chen Zhao's current client lived in a villa which was surrounded by a vast stretch of greenery and flowers. The path leading to the villa was paved with cobblestones. The other end of the cobblestone path led to a private, high-quality beach.
Chen Zhao was brought into the villa, after which he met his client.
It was an elderly, gray-haired man. His clothing was simple and he had a walking stick in his hand. From his dim eyes and bony body, one could tell that his days were numbered.
"Mr., nice to meet you. I'm the doctor Ethan introduced. May I ask if you are my patient?"
"Asian? That conscienceless agent is indeed unreliable. Leave, nobody here is your patient."
The old man was a white Jew. His words were already filled with racism.
The impression Chen Zhao had towards the old man also plunged to the minimum. "In that case, goodbye."
The Jewish old man did not stop Chen Zhao from leaving. He still had that arrogant expression on his face.
Just then, Blackie went beside Chen Zhao and muttered something.
Chen Zhao suddenly stopped walking. He turned around and glanced at the man. "Old man, I hope that one hour later when you have chest pain, you have your quick-acting heart reliever beside you."
"Who do you think you are? An Asian monkey pretending to know something! I don't need inferior kind like you to treat me. I need a white doctor, an elite, not a yellowed-skinned wizard."
"I'll remember your words. Jewish old man, when we meet next time, you better prepare enough cash."
"If you don't scram out of my manor, I'll ask the cops to force you out! Scram! Even the air you breathe here belongs to me. And also take that filthy dog out. If it dares to do its business here, I'll make you eat all of it!"
F**k! I've wasted my travelling expenses!
Chen Zhao left the manor, but did not leave Beverly Hills immediately. Instead, he sat down on a bench on the pavement.
"Human, let me destroy that bastard. I'll make him hard for every single second in the next month!"
"Actually I think he'll be happy for that, because his thing has lost its vitality long ago. Moreover, he can't live past today. You actually want him to have some fun before he dies. I really doubt if you're on my side." Chen Zhao held Raymond's long neck.
Blackie had told him that the old man would die that day due to a heart attack.
Nonetheless, even without the heart attack, his vitality would not allow him to survive for over three days. His body was already on a full decline, in addition to the fact that he had not eaten for two days.
This was also the reason he was looking for a doctor. His anorexia had caused him to lose appetite completely.
...
Rasfa was furious. An abject yellow-skinned monkey actually came here to treat him.
As a racist who only approved of whites, Rasfa discriminated against all other races.
He could accept colored people taking up those lesser jobs, but not a doctor.
In his eyes, only the elite white could become doctors, not others.
Thinking about this, Rasfa was increasingly agitated. He felt his heart rate surge and his breathing became more difficult.
However, Rasfa still tried to breathe normally. The tightness in his chest gradually dissipated.
Nevertheless, that was not enough for Rasfa to vent his anger. He called the contact person, who reached out to Ethan, and cursed him roundly.
"Sir, what do you wish to have for dinner?"
"Nothing... Wait, get me some steak." Rasfa realized that he had not eaten anything for two days already. Even if he had no appetite, he had to eat something.
He had contacted the black agent and asked for an illegal doctor precisely because the rivalry in his movie firm had been becoming increasingly intense. Even the health consultant he had at the moment was inserted by the other shareholders.
Once the other factions in the firm found out about his health condition, they would definitely use this as an excuse to attack him during the board meeting. This was something he could not allow.
On the dinner table, Rasfa stared at the tender, imported Japanese beef steak. The chef was employed by him with an annual salary of a hundred thousand dollars. Rasfa had always loved the chef's dishes. However, he really could not start eating at the moment.
Looking at the beef, Rasfa felt somewhat disgusted. He forced himself to pick up the fork and knife, but before he could cut anything, he suddenly felt a wave of sharp pain in his chest.
"Quick... Medicine... Medicine..."
Luckily, the servant beside him always carried his usual medicines and hurriedly fed Rasfa with the appropriate medicine.
Only then did Rasfa's chest pain slowly subside. Every onset would make him feel as if he had been to Hell.
The older one gets, the more one would be scared of death. Rasfa leaned back in his chair.
"Sir, do you feel better now?"
Rasfa's face turned gloomy. Recalling the Asian doctor's words, he looked at the clock.
One hour! Exactly one hour!
Is that yellow-skinned monkey really clairvoyant?
How was he able to predict so accurately that I would have an onset in an hour?
Rasfa found it hard to believe. "Call that Asian doctor just now. I want to see him."
The servant glanced at Rasfa, who had just said so many harsh words before the Asian doctor. Why would the doctor be willing to return?
However, as a servant, he still made the call as per Rasfa's request.
The call was first directed to an agent, after which it was transferred to Ethan who then passed the message to Chen Zhao.
Chen Zhao had been at the Beverly Hills this whole time. He was precisely waiting for this message.
He had paid one hundred dollars for his trip here. There was no way he was going to accept such a losing trade.
"Ethan, tell that old thing to prepare a hundred thousand dollars, or a coffin."
"Chen, but why? That's a huge client. If you build a good relationship with him, you'll get to know lots of rich people easily."
"He's a white supremacist and a racist. I don't think I can maintain a good relationship with him, and I'm not planning to do that, either. A hundred thousand dollars is the compensation for humiliating me in my face. Tell him that if I don't see the money, he can wait for death."
"Alright. I'll pass on the message."
Ethan was speechless. Nevertheless, if the cost was a hundred thousand dollars, he could get twenty thousand dollars. Ethan was more than happy to accept this price.
The only thing he could not control was whether the other party would accept it.