RE: Perverted Sugar Daddy System-Chapter 297: Hungry Peasant

"Her ass will be at your mercy!!"

The difference between the two groups was almost impossible to tell because, honestly, everyone looked the same.

This wasn't some gangster gathering where you could just point out people by how shiny their chains were or the car they drove.

A Richard Mille worth $200,000 couldn't exactly be used as a demarcation line.

Standing above how much one had in their accounts was the question: who did you know?

To a billionaire, a close-knit relationship with the wife of a multi-billionaire could be seen as more valuable than one with another fellow billionaire.

The people talked and laughed with one another, sipping from glasses and adorning smiles, and one would need discerning eyes to see that there were two small regions on the deck and that only a select few people moved between these regions.

While we waited for Catherine's glorious moment, the woman introduced me to people whom, as she said, could serve as good subordinates or was it pawns?

Catherine was one of the select people that could move between the regions, and while she talked with some tall young man in a red coat, I stole a glass of wine off a passing tray and used it to down the red round serving I had just eaten. The thing looked like a mini meatball but wasn't.

"You're still going for more?"

"Yes. I don't know what this is, but I love it."

"It's a red curp."

"Red curp? What's that?"

"A rare, expensive meal made from the flesh of sea horses. Each ball costs $1,000."

Picking another red curp from the tray in front of me, I was just about to put it in my mouth when I heard the words of the female beside me and paused.

First, my gaze landed on the large tray on the table, which carried more than a hundred balls, and then it quickly went to the female.

"How much did you say a single one costs?"

"$1,000."

"That's impossible. Nothing is that expensive."

"Blue seahorses are very rare. They can't be reared in artificial habitats, and they can only be found in the deep sea.

Red curps are that expensive."

First, my hand went to my stomach, remembering I had just eaten about six of them. Then I looked at the brunette in black.

"Do you happen to have a leather bag in your purse?"

"No. Why?"

The female beside me was Melissa Tam. She was a much closer acquaintance of Amber's or maybe even a friend and for the meantime, while Catherine was reminding people of her existence, she left me with her.

Though I was sure there weren't up to a thousand red curps, I knew there were definitely over a hundred, and I couldn't help picturing the money from selling them.

"You're not thinking about running off to go sell them, right?"

"I actually am," I shrugged.

Leon was right, I told myself.

At first thought, the meal was a huge waste of money. But then I thought about it on a much deeper level. Unless I was using the money to help the less privileged, sales from this wouldn't really help.

"Three hundred thousand at most? Was I not the one gambling 300 million with Google?"

"Excuse me," I said to Melissa, shortly disappearing and then about a minute later, popping back up with a large yellow plastic bag.

"You're kidding, right?" Melissa muttered as I came back to the food table.

Not replying to the woman, I began picking the red curps into the bag, my actions causing Melissa's eyes to widen. The woman felt self-conscious and took a step back.

"Sir, please, excuse me, but you can't do that."

Unfortunately, one of the waiters noticed my actions and came to curtail them, but I was not to be deterred.

The waiter's complaint drew the attention of other waiters, and as a small commotion issued, the eyes of all on the deck went toward me.

In no time, a small circle had been formed around me and the waiters, who couldn't restrain me.

"Who is he?"

"How did a peasant get in here?"

"What are the guards doing?"

"What a lowlife."

"He must not have eaten for a week."

Rich people were not born inherently wicked or brought up wicked and evil or mean. It was just that they saw the world differently, very differently.

Here I was, stealing goods worth several hundred thousand, and someone thought I was just being a lowlife and a peasant.

It didn't cross their minds why I didn't go after the other foods on the table. For some of them, though the red curps were more precious, meals were still meals, and only the hungry would steal such.

Well, whatever. My current actions were part of a plan bigger than their little heads.

"What is going on here?"

So far, everyone had chosen to be an observer, no one putting in a word about my actions.

Now the sudden appearance of a presence, one that chose to speak out drew everyone's attention.

The new presence was a man. He had on bright blue pants, white shoes, and a white shirt.

Holding a stick in hand, he walked toward the food table with dominant and confident steps, and then he fixed me with a gaze waiting for my reply to his question.

"Melissa, which other food here is super expensive?"

As I asked this question, I turned to a brunette wearing a black gown.

My attention on Melissa brought the attention of the people watching to her, and she immediately froze.

"Do you know him?" the man who had just arrived asked.

"No. I've never seen him before. I can't even figure out how he knows my name."

Seeing the disgust on Melissa's face and the alignment of all the others, the man turned back to me with a much harsher expression.

"State who you are, or we'll have you imprisoned."

"Big words. When did you become the police?"

"I'm not. I'll just report you to them for intrusion."

"Oh, you're making a mistake. I didn't intrude. I was invited here by someone, brought along, in fact."

I turned towards the crowd.

"Who is that someone, if I may?"

"Amber Jacobs."