Reborn in America: I Have an Equipment Slot

"Miami playstyle?"

Irving looked puzzled.

"You've never heard of the Miami way of doing things?" Little Walter was slightly taken aback, then pulled Irving along and waved to the waiter standing not far ahead:

"Hey buddy, hiccup~ find two quiet private rooms, next to each other, and bring over a few bottles of whiskey, and remember, the best!"

The waiter nodded, seemingly already used to Walter's "Miami way of doing things".

After gesturing for the two men to enter, he pressed the intercom on his ear and quickly began making arrangements: "Two guests at the bar, please have two quiet private rooms and bring over five bottles of Remy Martin."

"Come on, Owen. While we wait for them to arrange the rooms, I'll take you backstage so you can experience the joy of choosing your own people."

As he spoke, Walter began shoving Irving and led him to the backstage waiting area.

Contrary to Owen's expectations, the waiting area behind the stage was not a large space, but rather like the small club rooms that the protagonist visits in GTA games.

All the rooms were small, partitioned off with cheap synthetic boards.

None of these rooms had doors; each one was simply covered by a half-length or even slightly transparent gauze curtain.

Owen casually lifted the curtain of one of the rooms and peeked inside. He found that the rooms were simply decorated, with only a dressing table, a chair, and a sofa bed.

Just as Irving was feeling a bit dismayed that the rooms were so rudimentary, the sound of high heels clicking on the floor grew louder as it approached.

A moment later, a blonde, blue-eyed woman wearing a red fringed bikini walked over and called her backup dancers to gather.

Just as Irving was stunned.

Walter stepped forward and pulled the blonde dancer into his arms, smiling at Irving. "Kid, the way we do things in Miami is actually very simple: if you see someone you like, just grab them! Make sure they feel our enthusiasm!"

After saying that, Walter looked up, glanced at the backup dancers coming out of the waiting room, selected two attractive blonde dancers, and then loudly announced to the outside:

"Hey buddy, is our private room ready?"

"Everything is ready, sir. This way, please." Several waiters responded.

Seeing that the dancers next to Little Walt were still standing there, clearly not yet recovered from their shock, a waiter hurriedly came over and urged, "Beyoncé, you girls, what are you all standing there for? Hurry up and go to VIP booths 12 and 13!"

"But we're about to go on stage..."

Beyoncé, the dancer in Little Walter's arms, frowned slightly.

Seeing that Walter's expression faltered slightly, and then he seemed a little annoyed, the waiter quickly explained, "I'm sorry, sir, this dancer just arrived this afternoon and is still a bit unfamiliar with the procedures. Please wait in the private room. I promise they'll be there in a bit."

Walter was about to say something, but seeing that Irving's eyes were fixed on Beyoncé, unable to look away, he immediately laughed:

"No problem, but I want someone else. Let my brother Owen enjoy this woman."

However, young people these days really lack self-control.

When I first came here, I wasn't seduced by these dancers.

If it weren't for a few celebrities from Southeast Asia, I estimate I could have lasted another half hour...

Irving ignored Walter's boasting; his attention was now focused entirely on Beyoncé.

He felt like he'd seen Beyoncé somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it.

After Walter left, Irving stepped forward, extended his hand, and introduced himself, "Hello, my name is Irving. Have we met somewhere before?"

"My name is Beyoncé, sir. I'm sure we haven't met before!"

Slightly annoyed that her performance had been interrupted, Beyoncé politely shook hands with Irving and said, "This way of striking up a conversation seems a bit old-fashioned."

Irving looked a little embarrassed after being criticized.

Just as he was about to ask more about Beyoncé, two waiters came over.

"Sir, your private room is ready. Please follow me."

Seeing this, Irving nodded awkwardly to Beyoncé, then turned and left.

Compared to the cramped single rooms behind the stage, the VIP boxes are significantly more spacious and comfortable.

Moreover, the overall area is much larger than that of a single room.

Although it's called a private room, the space is actually no different from a standard room in a regular five-star hotel.

However, compared to the hotel room, the double bed was replaced with a wraparound sofa, and there was a small stage in the center with a steel pipe standing in it.

The light overhead wasn't a chandelier, but a constantly rotating colored light ball.

"Have a good time, sir." The two waiters led Owen to the door of the private room, said this, and then respectfully turned and left.

As Irving entered the private room, he was curiously looking around.

Suddenly, the door behind me opened.

Immediately afterwards, three dancers slowly walked in, each carrying two bottles of Rémy Martin XO.

The one leading the conversation was Beyoncé, whom he had just struck up a conversation with.

"Sir, here's your drink." Compared to before, Beyoncé seemed like a completely different person now, with a smile on her face and very enthusiastic.

Irving didn't respond to the other person's enthusiasm; instead, he frowned and thought carefully.

"Sir, may we begin the performance?" Beyoncé smiled slightly and asked Owen softly.

Irving nodded.

He sat on the sofa, legs crossed, brows furrowed.

He frowned as he watched Beyoncé and two other dancers perform their striptease.

The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt.

Using the passive skill he had previously acquired from the gold pocket watch—Extraordinary Memory—Owen frowned and recalled all his experiences over the past two days.

From Walter's overly eager and enthusiastic attitude during the initial interview to how, after the script workshop, Walter pulled him along and enthusiastically brought him here.

Then, when I saw Beyoncé, a sense of familiarity arose in my heart.

Irving tried hard to recall.

With the help of his extraordinary memories, Owen suddenly remembered why Beyoncé looked familiar!

He had indeed seen Beyoncé before, at Ms. Catherine's villa!

"What's wrong, sir? Are you feeling unwell?"

Owen's thoughts were interrupted, and when he opened his eyes, he saw nothing but white.

Beyoncé was almost completely naked at this point, and she gently pressed her foot against Irving's chest.

The little feet in front of me swayed back and forth, and the toes were painted with nail polish.

Upon seeing this, Irving not only did not relax at all, but his body tensed up instantly.

He was now almost certain that the dancer in front of him named Beyoncé was no ordinary dancer.

Moreover, Walter brought him here not simply for entertainment and relaxation.

Just as Irving became wary, Beyoncé leaned in and let out a soft hum:

"Sir, are you sure you're just going to sit here like this? Won't you do anything?"