HLM – Chapter 129 A Glorious Start to Filming

At the end of April, Sunset Town experienced the most bustling day since its founding.

Helicopters roared through the skies—more than twenty arrived just in the morning. They almost blotted out the sun, creating a breathtaking spectacle.

On the ground, a fleet of luxury vehicles lined the roads. Although there were few hypercars like Ferraris, Lamborghinis, or Bugatti Veyrons, there were plenty of business-class luxury cars—Bentleys, Rolls-Royces, Maybachs, and the like.

After seeing the extravagant turnout of those attending the auction, Wang Bo finally believed what Adams had told him: Christie’s had done everything in its power to invite the wealthiest of the wealthy to this auction.

Nearly everyone brought bodyguards, secretaries, and assistants. While the invitations went out to 106 people, over 400 actually showed up—a truly impressive gathering!

As the host, Wang Bo partnered with Adams to receive the guests.

Adams had his own strengths—there was a reason he was the top figure for Christie’s in Oceania. He had an excellent memory and could recall all the names, preferences, and personalities of the guests and their families with ease.

Of course, this information had been compiled into a dossier, and Wang Bo received a copy.

Adams didn’t think Wang Bo would be able to memorize it—after all, remembering hundreds of names, along with their preferences and backgrounds, was no easy feat.

But Wang Bo surprised him. It only took him two days to memorize the entire file thoroughly.

This was clearly reflected in the reception process—Wang Bo exuded confidence and could recognize every guest. After a simple introduction by Adams, Wang Bo would choose an appropriate topic and carry on a courteous conversation with ease.

New Zealand was a country that valued equality. At a buffet, a street cleaner could sit and eat at the same table as the Prime Minister.

So, regardless of status, the guests responded to Wang Bo’s gracious hospitality with smiles and friendly conversation.

New Zealanders also appreciated self-confidence and personal charisma. Wang Bo’s poised and composed demeanor won them over quickly.

The auction officially began in the afternoon. Christie’s provided lunch and dinner, and Adams had brought along a skilled team of chefs. Initially, Wang Bo thought he’d need to rely on Kobe to take over the catering, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

Even the beef and lamb from Wang Bo’s ranch didn’t make the cut. All the ingredients were airlifted from Wellington and Auckland and went through extensive testing before entering the kitchen.

The ranch livestock didn’t have the necessary inspection certifications, and the chefs dared not take any risks—after all, they were feeding the world’s elite, and a single incident could ruin everything.

With Adams’ introductions, Wang Bo quickly entered the social circle of these billionaires. Of course, “entered” was too strong a word—he was able to hold conversations with them, and they began to take note of who he was.

Watching Wang Bo move easily among the rich and powerful, Adams was deeply surprised. He’d assumed Wang Bo would be timid in such high-level social situations, but not only did he hold his ground—he completely outshone Adams himself.

To the other guests, it even looked like Adams was Wang Bo’s assistant. Once Adams introduced someone, his job was done—Wang Bo handled the rest on his own.

It wasn’t just Adams who was shocked—Charlie and the others were equally awestruck by Wang Bo’s performance.

Of the group, only Old Hani remained unmoved by the presence of the billionaires. People like Juan didn’t even dare to make eye contact with them.

Because of this, the guests’ impression of Wang Bo only improved.

Some approached Adams and asked, “This young man—what powerful Chinese family is he from? Look at his demeanor. You rarely see that kind of confidence in someone so young.”

Another laughed and added, “He’s clearly seen his share of big occasions. I paid close attention—he treats everyone the same, regardless of status. I’ve met many Easterners, but few carry that kind of poise.”

Naturally, Wang Bo was confident—this was his turf. Honestly, these people’s lives were in his hands. If he wanted, he could use the Heart of the Lord to eliminate them all.

How could he possibly feel inferior to people whose lives he could control?

After a simple post-lunch break, the auction officially began.

Wang Bo sat in the last row, giving him a good vantage point to observe everyone.

A man in white gloves shook hands with Adams and then walked up to the auction podium. Smiling, he introduced himself, listing all the auctions he had participated in and the total sales he had accumulated.

A “white glove” was the highest honor an auctioneer could receive in the industry—it meant that all items in a particular auction were sold, a 100% clearance rate, and it represented the utmost recognition of an auctioneer’s ability.

This middle-aged man, Baron Rives, was particularly exceptional. He held the Oceania record for most white glove auctions—he had achieved that honor in 19 consecutive auctions.

In other words, there had not been a single unsold item in 19 straight auction sessions under his command.

Today was his 20th.

With a natural smile, Rives looked down at the scattered but distinguished crowd. After reiterating the auction rules, he raised his hand to introduce the first item—one of the two golden statues Wang Bo had contributed.

Wang Bo had done his research—this golden statue was quite valuable. It had existed for over two centuries and originated from a Native American tribe in the Americas. The figure depicted was a legendary strongman from their mythology—a totemic guardian deity.

Two years ago, Sotheby’s New York autumn auction sold a similar statue for a high price of 11 million USD.

But that kind of price was hard to achieve in New Zealand—there weren’t any Native American billionaires here, and the people most interested in such relics were usually of the same ethnicity.

Rives gave a detailed introduction of the statue and even, somehow, added a mythical backstory to it. Then, with a flourish, he announced, “The Native American Mighty God golden statue—bidding starts at 10 million NZD, with increments of 500,000. Gentlemen and ladies, please begin…”

A wave of low murmurs rippled through the hall as people conferred quietly with one another.

A few seconds later, a young blond man raised his paddle.

“This gentleman—10.5 million, going once…”

Almost immediately, another person raised their paddle and even turned around briefly.

“This gentleman—11.5 million, going once…”

Christie’s auction director Gregoire Lyle was seated next to Wang Bo. Knowing that Wang Bo was unfamiliar with such auctions, he leaned over to explain the proceedings in a low voice.

After a few more bids, the price reached 13.5 million and stalled. Rives called out “13.5 million” three times, then brought the gavel down—sold.

Wang Bo was very satisfied with the result. Christie’s had estimated the statue at 12 million, so this had exceeded expectations.

The second auction item had nothing to do with him—it was a model train.