"Mavi, my brother! Look at this blue and white porcelain sports car. Can you find someone to customize one for me too? Name your price—money is not an issue!" Amur eagerly asked Mavi, addressing him like a close brother.
He was smart enough not to ask the obvious—how much Mavi's "Blue and White Porcelain Edition Bugatti EB 110" was selling for. A million dollars? Two million? It didn't matter.
After all, everyone present was wealthy beyond measure. Money wasn't the issue—status, prestige, and exclusivity were what truly mattered.
Before Mavi could respond, others around him, including Amir, also chimed in urgently.
"Mavi, my brother! Me too! Can you modify my Lotus Elise like yours? I want the same porcelain design!"
"My Ferrari 360 as well! Please, brother!" another man quickly added.
Though Amir and the others might not fully appreciate the artistry of porcelain, they all understood one thing—Mavi's blue and white porcelain Bugatti was a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. Driving it would guarantee turning heads. Plus, there was no risk of running into someone with the same car.
As the "Blue and White Porcelain Edition Bugatti EB 110" was gently lowered to the ground, some newly arrived airport passengers were immediately drawn to it.
"Hey! What's that light blue sports car? It looks amazing!" exclaimed two French flight attendants in uniform, asking the male flight attendant beside them.
He squinted, recognizing most of the luxury cars around, but the glazed blue sports car parked at the very front was completely unfamiliar.
"No idea. Must be a new model. Judging by the emblem, it looks like a Bugatti?" he guessed uncertainly.
The two stunning flight attendants stared at the porcelain Bugatti and Mavi sitting inside it, lost in thought.
The world of the ultra-rich was always eye-catching. The moment Mavi's unique ceramic sports car appeared, it stole the show. Amur and the others unanimously decided that for their "supercar takeover" across Europe, Mavi's Bugatti and his six-wheeled Hummer should lead the convoy.
When Mavi started the Bugatti's engine, preparing to depart from the airport with a fleet of Middle Eastern luxury cars behind him—
BOOM!
The 3.5L V12 twin-turbo engine roared like an enraged beast, making heads turn instantly.
At the same moment, the dozen other supercars behind him fired up their engines in sync.
BOOM!
BOOM!
A deafening symphony of horsepower filled the airport terminal, completely drowning out all other sounds.
After about thirty seconds, two silver Hummers at the front of the convoy pulled onto the main road, clearing the way.
Then, Mavi sped off in his Blue and White Porcelain Bugatti, leading a pack of supercars, including the Jaguar XJR-15, McLaren F1, Aston Martin V8, Jaguar XJ220, Ferrari F50, Porsche 911 GT1, and Lotus Elise, leaving a trail of stunned onlookers in their wake.
The crowd at the airport gasped, whispering amongst themselves.
"This car convoy is absolutely insane!"
"If we add up the net worth of these guys, this convoy must be worth at least a billion dollars..."
With Mavi's porcelain Bugatti leading the way, the Middle Eastern supercar crew exuded an aura of untouchable dominance. Pedestrians couldn't help but stop and watch, while even the rich kids of Paris were left dumbfounded—none of them had ever seen a car like this before.
From Paris Airport, the convoy paraded through the city streets, making its way to the Eiffel Tower, then cruising along the Seine River for a bit.
Then—they all ran out of gas.
One major flaw of supercars—besides being difficult to handle—is their ridiculous fuel consumption.
So, the entire group rolled into a gas station, refueling while chatting.
"Mavi, my brother, a friend of mine in Paris is throwing a party tonight at his place. Are you interested in coming?" Amur extended an invitation.
In wealthy circles, people stick together. They make money together, party together, and enjoy life together. The cliché of arrogant rich kids constantly trying to kill the protagonist, as seen in some stories, was nonsense—anyone that stupid wouldn't last in these circles.
"A party? Sure," Mavi nodded, looking at Amur. He was genuinely curious—do these Middle Eastern elites drink at parties? Their religion strictly forbids alcohol, after all.
"Great! I'll send you the address. See you tonight!" Amur grinned. As the son of an oil tycoon, he had learned a lot from Mavi that day—this level of custom car modification was something truly eye-opening.
### Later That Night
Around 8 PM, in a luxurious mansion community on the outskirts of Paris, a stream of high-end cars rolled into a grand estate.
The owner of the estate, Richard, was the heir to the Hennessy fortune—a brand founded in 1765.
Like many wealthy heirs, Richard loved throwing extravagant parties. And of course, no party was complete without beautiful women.
European supermodels, young fashion models—it didn't matter where they came from. French, Italian, Spanish—as long as they were gorgeous, young, and had killer bodies, they were welcome. Private transportation? Covered. Paid attendance? Of course.
So, when Mavi finally arrived in his porcelain Bugatti, slightly late to the party, he saw a dazzling scene in the mansion's pool garden.
Dozens of stunning women in bikinis, holding champagne and cocktails, laughed and splashed around under the bright party lights.
The sight was intoxicating, like stumbling upon a hidden paradise. A place that made anyone want to dive right in, lose themselves in the music, and have the time of their life.
However, as tempting as it was, first things first—parking the car.
Though this was Mavi's first bikini party, he was able to keep his composure—a result of his past life experiences.
Following the guidance of the estate staff, Mavi parked near the pool garden. Since he was late, parking spots were scarce, so he simply handed his keys to his bodyguard.
Just as he stepped out of his Bugatti, a group of Middle Eastern men in white robes, accompanied by some European men in beach shorts, walked toward him.
"Mavi, my good brother! You're finally here! Let me introduce you—this is Richard..." Amur enthusiastically introduced his French friend.
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