CH 1.1

VIX Club represented the highest class of nightlife in Timberland City. It was an exclusive club for the rich and the upper class compared to the ordinary ones.

The semi-opened luxury booth on the third floor of VIX Club was the best choice for the VIPs, who could enjoy the gorgeous dynamic lights of the whole club and the dancing of 3D hot girls in mid-air. The holographic image provided a futuristic feeling. Stimulated by alcohol, lights and music, the reality was mixed with illusion. People were intoxicated with luxury.

The man who was wearing worry beads of Aquilaria Crassna* (*Top quality of the Aquilaria) had been in the supreme booth all night. His eyes behind the frameless glasses were still clear, only with some laziness and aloofness. He seemed to be indifferent to the things around him.

Many hot girls dressed in exquisite clothes were sitting on sofas about two meters away from him, who might be internet celebrities or from rich families that could afford the high expenses. Even though those girls coveted the man from time to time, no one dared to come and accost him.

The booth area was a little silent due to a conflict between two booths about twenty minutes ago. With a cracking sound of breaking wine bottle, someone started to make trouble, and the quarrel became louder.

It was not their business at first. But a few minutes ago, a girl in the booth next door shouted, “I’m from Spencer’s family. If you go too far, I will let you get out of Timberland City.”

Hearing the words, the man who was playing with his worry beads lifted his eyelids. Simon Owen looked at him in surprise and asked, “The girl’s from your family? You want to have a look?”

Wilfred Spencer didn’t move his crossed legs. He just raised his eyes and look through the hollow glass separating the two booths, from which he could see the girl next door who was playing tough to others.

Doris Venda was wearing a sexy strapless dress. Her face was common and looked vulgar in heavy makeup. Wilfred put down his glass and shook his head slightly, refusing to interfere in this matter.

Simon was interested and asked, “Isn’t she from your family?”

“No,” Wilfred replied coldly. He compared the little girl in his memory with the one at present, who didn’t match either in appearance or temperament.

“Damn it! She dares to be rampant in the name of your family.” Said Simon.