Reclining comfortably on his barnacle-shaped chair, Liam crossed his legs and shook his head.
Investment?
Liam had never heard of that term in the cultivation world.
Stocks didn't exist here. The only time you invested in something was when you put up money for a horse race or otherwise.
"What kind of investment are you talking about?" Liam asked curiously.
Bill McGill smiled cryptically. Just then, the drinks arrived, and he put one glass in front of Liam, and gripped the other himself.
The drinks looked translucent, but had an incredibly pungent odor. A whiff sharply stung Liam's nose.
"If you've never heard of me, you're probably wondering what it is I do," Bill said, then casually took a sip.
Revolted, he glared at the glass of liquid. "Ugh, disgusting. White Brine doesn't taste like this. This is Shark Salt!"
Bill was complaining about his drink in typically entitled celebrity fashion.
