I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2265 - 1441: Yamada Butterfly (Part 2)

In this era, earning money reigns supreme.

Observe the surge of self-proclaimed stars and performers swarming the internet to vie for deals.

"That indicates your firm still has potential for growth; you haven't encountered sufficient ladies yet..."

The lady displayed humility and captivating charm.

She wasn't precisely a live streamer.

Her looks and poise surpassed 99% of female celebrities effortlessly.

The man with the goatee had already envisioned a perfect female protagonist for her.

The Nine-tailed Demon Fox.

The seductive temptress Su Daji!

No.

Not even Su Daji matched her beauty.

"Our firm isn't massive, yet we rank among the industry leaders, Huaxing Interactive Entertainment. Has Miss heard of us?"

The woman, radiating irresistible allure, shook her head. "Apologies, I've only come across CX Entertainment."

The goatee man paused briefly, then offered a courteous smile. "Strictly speaking, CX Entertainment operates in a different sphere from us. Our specialty lies in cultivating and producing internet sensations. Here's my card."

With gentlemanly flair, he extracted a business card from his pocket and presented it, aware that such small gestures often build favor.

In the pleasant vibe, the woman naturally accepted it. "Director of Creative Development, Huaxing Interactive Entertainment..."

"Indeed, Deng Yanghui. Pleased to meet you, Miss."

In truth, the goatee, serving as Creative Development director at Huaxing Interactive Entertainment, yearned to seize the moment for a handshake, yet he curbed the desire.

Amid this fine mood, any misstep could shatter it, causing regret.

"Hello."

She nodded with a smile, set the card aside, opting for an unusual path by skipping her own introduction.

"What field does the lady pursue?"

Deng Yanghui, the goatee-sporting general manager, inquired at the right juncture.

He deemed her ideal for media, though merely his view—unlike the earlier broadcasting institute girl. Did she even seem jobless?

"International trade."

Her smile held depth and allure.

Deng shifted his position subtly, masking it as casual while quelling his stirring physical reaction; his expression feigned astonishment. "Really?"

He pressed on, "International trade must be grueling, no?"

"Very demanding. That's why I've journeyed all this way."

"..."

Deng Yanghui froze for a second, tempted to fondle his chin beard.

Her words carried a hint, prompting a closer scrutiny, half in doubt. "Miss isn't from Shen Zhou?"

"No."

Deng Yanghui reeled in shock, wholly unforeseen, blurting, "Miss must be pulling my leg, right?"

The woman quelled her smile, remaining stunningly attractive, yet oddly, her unsmiling face projected an eerie chill.

"Why would I jest with you?"

A shiver ran through Deng, questioning if Apang Palace's AC was cranked too high.

"How does the lady master Shen Zhou language so flawlessly?"

It wasn't unreasonable for him to doubt.

He'd witnessed Shen Zhou natives fluent in foreign tongues, but a foreigner nailing Shen Zhou speech like a native? Unprecedented for him.

Among his streamers, foreigners toiled over Chinese, chatting with fans in it on stream, yet that telltale accent lingered inescapably.

"Because I previously worked in Shen Zhou."

She spoke straightforwardly, sincerely—at least up to now, every word true.

"So, from Southeast Asia?"

"Japanese."

Her reply stunned Deng Yanghui further, then his pulse raced wildly.

Such stunning features.

Such an exquisite form.

And Japanese heritage.

All bonuses aligned.

The prior chill vanished amid a rush of heat.

His head.

Lifted prominently.

To dodge embarrassment in public, Deng averted his eyes, bowed his head, sipped his cold beverage to tame the surging bodily urge.

"Had Miss not mentioned it, nobody would guess you're Japanese. You resemble a Shen Zhou native more than many. Truth be told, I know some Japanese myself."

Still harboring doubts, suspecting a prank.

"Yamete?"

The woman abruptly uttered words from her mother tongue.

As proof.

Deng stiffened; nearly choked on his drink, his fly straining to burst.

Internet celebrity production demands bold content. Streamers sell via assets: legs for long-legged ones, busts for busty, dances for dancers—yet nothing rivaled the impact of those three syllables!

"Cough, cough, cough..."

He suppressed the spray but hacked fiercely.

"Was it wrong?"

"No, perfect."

Deng grabbed a tissue, dabbed his lips, compelled to cross his legs awkwardly.

"My apologies for the blunder. You must've dealt with us extensively to speak Shen Zhou so adeptly. What trades does Miss specialize in? I have Kyoto connections and could link you to deals."

Learning her Japanese roots, beyond shock, Deng felt elated.

Foreigners carry one perk.

No strings attached.

"I'm here negotiating Shen Zhou's Free Trade Agreement revival."

Freshly wiped, Deng's eyes bulged, nearly gnawing his tongue.

The woman stayed serene, eyeing Apang Palace's vibrant shows, lifting her slender wrist to sip wine idly.

Deng drowned in her aura.

What had he heard?

Free Trade Agreement?

Essentially, it's a pact among nations to slash or erase trade hurdles like tariffs, quotas, fees, fostering economic unity and seamless goods/services flow.

This qualifies as your international trade?

Though, arguably fitting.

The Free Trade Agreement surfaced years back but stalled for obvious causes.

Hearing it resurface—not via headlines, but offhand from her—not everyday chatter.

Can average folk meddle here?

This concerns national strategy, set by elite leaders.

"Miss, you're quite the joker."

Deng mustered a grin, figuring no mockery, just lighthearted fun.

The woman exhaled softly, shifted from the spectacle to eye him.

"You should go."

"..."

Deng's face stiffened.

How swiftly she flipped attitudes!

Yet, valid point.

No trust, no further talk.

Still, as a visitor from abroad, Fujiwara Reiki wouldn't stoop to rudeness, especially at Apang Palace.

Stirring issues here spells her doom~

"Miss..."

The table's card got shoved back, ignored.

"I say this for your sake; if my man spots us, you're done."

Suddenly, Deng of Huaxing Interactive Entertainment felt the world spin.

"Didn't you claim no boyfriend?"

He whispered.

"I lack a boyfriend; I have a man."

"..."

Not merely a man.

She boasted a fiancé too.

Facts stand firm.

No confusing them~

Deng, seasoned with women, faced no such archetype, left stupefied momentarily.

"Aren't you solo?"

Apparently out of patience, her lithe fingers traced the glass; the jet-setting Miss Fujiwara's seductive lips curved faintly, her breath orchid-sweet.

"I'm alone, but he owns this place."

Her tone stayed mesmerizing.

It seized Deng's heart, yanking it downward.

His frame quaked—not from thrill. Rather, normalcy resumed below, the pants' protrusion deflating noticeably.