The sun set, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange.
The warm light of the evening crept across the windowsill and bathed half of Anton's body.
He glanced at the time; it was time to leave work.
Just as Anton was about to stand, the phone on his desk began to vibrate and ring.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
He picked up the phone and saw a familiar name displayed on the screen.
Tony Stark!
"Huh?"
Anton was taken aback. The image of Tony Stark, with his arrogant, mustachioed face, immediately popped into his head, and he felt a flicker of annoyance.
"Anton, you haven't forgotten about tonight's party, have you?"
The moment the call connected, Tony Stark's flippant and unrestrained voice echoed from the other end.
"If you're willing to admit defeat now, I wouldn't mind showing some mercy."
It was full of mockery.
Especially coming from the master of trash talk, Tony Stark, it sounded even more sarcastic.
Anton was stunned for a moment, a string of memories quickly clarifying the situation.
The original owner was a rich playboy who loved chasing girls, taking baths, and flaunting his wealth. Although he was far from someone of Tony Stark's caliber, who was already the chairman of Stark Industries, their social circles overlapped to a considerable degree, making it inevitable they would cross paths.
At a party not long ago, the two had a conflict and made a bet about picking up girls.
Anton unsurprisingly lost the game.
Tony Stark, with his wealth as his weapon, not only took the girl they had bet on, but also used his money to sweep away all the women at the party – even the cleaning lady who was tidying up afterwards.
As an aside, Anton also lost his date.
This made him a laughingstock.
It had to be admitted that Tony Stark was not only a technological genius, but also a rare talent in picking up women and "socializing".
Thus, the two of them had been in a silent competition at recent parties.
Anton lost every time, but stubbornly refused to give up.
Tony found this amusing.
According to some lackeys who leaked information, Tony has fallen in love with this unequal contest and has invested a lot of energy.
The entire New York social circle, including many other second-generation rich kids of similar status, are enjoying themselves like Tony Stark, even placing bets.
Apparently, it's time to open the betting pool again tonight.
"Picking up girls?"
Anton's heart itched, and he suddenly stood up and rushed into the garage.
Vroom!
A cool Bugatti Veyron sped through the streets.
The car's roar was constant, attracting countless envious gazes from passersby.
He was indeed not skilled at picking up girls, but flipping through the original owner's memories, was that even considered picking up girls?
That's what you call throwing money around!
Who doesn't know how to throw money around? You don't? Really? Surely, someone knows how to throw money around, right?
"Isn't Anton not showing up tonight? Damn it, what bad luck. I bet ten grand on him!"
"Holy shit? You're that bold, betting on Anton?"
"I've never won betting on Anton!"
"Exactly!"
"Damn it, if I hadn't been matched with Anton in the draw, do you think I would have bet on him?"
Because Anton had never won, these people were now using a lottery to place bets.
They drew lots to decide who to bet on.
A group of second-generation rich kids, each with a female companion, were gathered around the pool, chatting amongst themselves.
Tony Stark was in the center of the crowd, surrounded by several gorgeous, hot women. His lecherous eyes were practically glued to their chests.
Soon, Anton arrived.
He walked through the crowd and saw his friends.
"You're finally here!"
"I thought you wouldn't dare to come!"
"Anton, I bet ten thousand on you today!"
Anton was greeted by a group of friends.
"Appreciate it, brother."
Anton said to the last person, "I'll make sure you earn a fortune today."
"Anton!"
Tony was drawn by the noise and immediately saw his old rival.
Walking with his usual arrogant stride, he sneered, "You're a defeated general. Have you figured out how you'll go home and cry under the covers today?"
"Tony, don't get carried away."
Anton glanced at Tony. "You think your sexy little mustache really attracts girls?"
"Why not?"
Tony spread his hands, feigning innocence, and declared righteously, "Why would I, a billionaire, bother with relationships? For someone like me, having a relationship is an insult to my vast fortune!"
"Glad to see you're aware. For beautiful women, a magazine cover is more appealing than sleeping with a loser like you."
Anton sneered. "So?"
Tony didn't care. "Does it matter?"
"Of course it does, because I can offer them more."
Anton stared at the blonde bombshell beside Tony, smiling, "Beautiful lady, I have a one-hundred-million-dollar project to discuss with you. Interested in being my leading lady?"
"Just this?"
Tony didn't look panicked at all, and looked at Anton with amusement: "Are you trying to poach from me? Come on, you've used this trick twelve times already. Haven't you figured out how to beat me yet?"
He was always the one doing the poaching, not the one being poached.
Of course, his blind confidence meant he never worried about anyone being able to steal from him.
"Sorry, you're charming, but I already have a boyfriend!"
The blonde beauty was indeed unmoved.
Clearly, in the current situation, compared to the attention-seeking and "world-famous" Tony, Anton was only somewhat well-known in his small corner of New York. He was still far from being comparable to Tony Stark, who controlled Stark Industries.
The name of Stark Industries wasn't just popular across America.
As a weapons manufacturing giant, Stark Industries wields considerable influence worldwide.
The wealth behind Anton pales in comparison, akin to the difference between an old noble family and a small-town landowner.
Even among the nobility, there are different tiers.
"Well, you'll soon realize what a massive opportunity you've missed."
Anton remained unfazed, brimming with confidence despite the rejection.
With the system, the world is his oyster.
It's 2020, and if a transmigrator isn't handsome and confident, how can readers relate?
"Wow, Anton, you look extra different today."
Tony watched Anton with interest, feeling that his old rival seemed to have gained something, a different kind of aura, compared to before.
"You seem very confident?"
Tony chuckled. "Do you think you're more charming than me?"
Fortunately, Anton hadn't come today just to flirt.
"Tony, we're both handsome guys, the only thing left to compete on is strength," Anton said. "You know, I just took over The Bugle from my family, but I'm not interested in running a newspaper..."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm planning to enter the entertainment industry, to make movies."
"You're going to be a director?"
Tony understood instantly, his eyes widening as he sized up the person in front of him.
He couldn't believe that this kid, who had been giving him a hard time for so long, would come up with such a bizarre idea.
"Wait, you must be thinking..."
Tony had a lecherous grin, feeling like he'd seen through the other person.
He knew exactly what kind of person Anton was.
Not exactly completely useless, but at least not possessing any outstanding talents, except for his life skill that was second only to his own – spending money to pick up girls.
"What I want to do is none of your business!"
Anton rolled his eyes.
He didn't realize his words echoed Tony's thoughts perfectly.
The two men exchanged a look.
Anton clearly saw a flicker of excitement in Tony's eyes.
This guy really is a showman!
Anton thought, a smile playing on his lips. "So, Tony Stark, are you interested in playing along?"
"How do we play?"
Tony's expression remained unchanged, but Anton could tell he was intrigued.
As the saying goes, the person who understands you best isn't always your friend, but often your rival.
Anton's original self hadn't exactly been a stranger to Tony, and had, on multiple occasions, come out on the losing end. Naturally, he had a deep understanding of Tony's showboating, arrogant personality.
"One hundred million, split fifty-fifty, we bet on the box office."
Anton crossed his arms, looking at Tony Stark with supreme confidence. "If we make money, I win. If we lose, I'll be your shadow, your lackey, carrying your bags. I'll even call you Dad."
"Even though I know you're here to get money, whatever!"
Tony laughed heartily. "Fifty million is nothing. I'll play along, Anton. I look forward to you becoming my errand boy."
Suddenly, his tone changed. "But, I never do business at a loss!"
"Name it," Anton said calmly.
"We need to add a condition!"
Tony sized Anton up and down. "If the box office return rate exceeds 50%, otherwise, you still lose."
"No problem."
Anton agreed readily, then asked, "What if I win?"
"If you win, all the profits from this film, including the principal, are yours. I won't take a penny." Tony was brimming with confidence. "Also, I'll throw a party in Los Angeles in your name, and all the girls are yours!"
"Deal!"
Anton smiled.