At the other end of the dining table, Old Beck remained silent, leisurely enjoying the lobster tail on his plate, occasionally taking a sip of white wine, completely ignoring the sarcasm around him.
Several "friends" from the financial circle, however, were unwilling to let him go. They frequently turned their attention to him as the conversation heated up: "Old Beck, why don't you say something?"
"Yeah, you're that Asian kid's personal lawyer. His 'Warthog' project is almost a joke now, and you still remain calm?"
Old Beck remained unmoved until the food on his plate was completely finished. He put down his knife and fork, lifted his eyelids, and glanced around at the people at the table.
A mocking smile appeared on his aged face, and he leisurely spoke:
"Idiots, let me tell you something—while you all are here making sarcastic remarks, 'Holy Light's air service is about to become profitable."
