Chapter 133: A Dance with Sankes

"What? Can't handle it anymore?" Vogel stared at Martin, who was leaning on the back of his chair, and pointed at him. "Man, you're done!" he exclaimed, belching as he spoke.

Vogel had consumed just as much alcohol as Martin.

Martin appeared a bit woozy from the alcohol, but he stood up and retorted, "Man, you can't back down!"

He grabbed a wine glass and clumsily clinked it with Vogel's. "Let's do it!"

Vogel, who had almost emptied his glass, suppressed the urge to vomit and proposed, "Let's have a wine-drinking contest. Regardless of who wins or loses, we'll find another way to prove who's the real man among us!"

Martin, appearing quite inebriated, retorted, "With a woman? No way. I told you, you can't do it."

These words stung Vogel, who was also drunk, and he impulsively wanted to start a fight. "Who can't do it?" he shouted, but then remembered his purpose and held back. "This is Mexico; we'll compete the Mexican way!"

A brawl wouldn't solve the problem. Vogel raised his voice, declaring, "Here, it's a tradition for real men to fearlessly confront venomous snakes. Let's challenge the venomous snakes!"

Blake extended her long legs and stood on the table, giving Martin a kick to dissuade him.

Martin, despite appearing intoxicated, had a clear head and likely guessed what Vogel was up to.

Vogel steadied himself by grabbing the table, swaying in his seat. "What, you're not up for it?" he challenged, his voice suddenly louder. "Hey, everyone, pay attention! Martin and I are going to compete, the Mexican way. After this, whoever dares not to compete is weak and will not pursue girls on the set anymore..."

Martin turned his head to look at Bruce.

The two of them shared a silent understanding. Bruce knew Martin's mischievous intentions and nodded subtly.

Martin unsteadily stood up and proclaimed, "Let's compete! Damn it, where are the venomous snakes? I'll make their mouths pop!"

Vogel agreed, "Alright, let's go find some snakes!"

Martin, seizing the opportunity, urged everyone to cheer him on before leaving.

He tugged at Vogel and said, "Let's go!"

Vogel responded by saying, "Let's go."

Before exiting the banquet hall, Martin grabbed two more bottles of wine.

As they made their way to the parking lot, he cracked open a bottle and continued drinking with Vogel.

The cool sea breeze blew in, and Vogel got progressively drunk. He was past the point of speaking nonsense. The alcohol seemed to flow down his throat automatically.

Martin tossed his empty bottle into a trash bin and declared, "Let's go!"

Vogel, still focused on his objective, discarded his bottle as well.

Before leaving the hotel, Martin slipped into the restroom, where Bruce was waiting. They exchanged a few quick words.

To ensure Martin wouldn't back out halfway, Vogel summoned the crew's bus. When the driver arrived, Vogel, with some effort, helped Martin onto the bus. He then called others to join, attracting quite a crowd of onlookers.

Many people wanted to witness the spectacle.

As for obstructing them? The actors in the back wished the ones in the front would disappear.

Blake had also attempted to persuade them a couple of times, but seeing that she couldn't sway anyone, she fell silent.

When the bus pulled out of the parking lot, Dalot, who had worked with the crew previously, received a call from Bruce. He organized a large group of people, jumped into several off-road vehicles, and followed the bus.

Inside the bus, Martin and Vogel continued their raucous banter, fueled by their intoxicated state.

The bus quickly left the city and reached the desert. Everyone disembarked to search for venomous snakes.

Among the group were Dalot and his men.

On the flat, rocky ground, a rattlesnake with khaki patterns had taken refuge in a crack between the rocks. Seeing so many two-legged giants approaching, it shivered helplessly, its rattler vibrating pitifully as a warning.

"Real men, come on!" shouted a young actor from the crowd.

Various voices chimed in, urging them on. "Go on, don't be chicken! Don't let us down!"

Martin and Vogel stopped about 20 meters from the rattlesnake.

Vogel gripped Martin's arm. "Man, it's your time to prove yourself. Go ahead, make the snake's head explode!"

Martin glanced at the rattlesnake and muttered, "I won't do it."

This completely caught Vogel off guard. "Are you chickening out?" he exclaimed.

Martin broke free from Vogel's grip, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him vigorously, causing Vogel to sway back and forth. "I won't do it, I'm terrified of snakes!"

He shook Vogel relentlessly. Vogel's head was spinning; he was so drunk he felt like he might vomit.

But Vogel held it in.

As a true man, how could he throw up in public?

Martin turned and walked away. When he emerged from the crowd, a Mexican in the group shouted in English, "Martin's a coward, and Vogel's a coward too! Both of you are cowards!"

More than a dozen people began taunting Vogel, calling him a coward and telling him to go back.

"You guys don't even dare to do what you proposed; it's embarrassing for any man!"

"Eggless trash!"

"You're a complete waste!"

Not only were these words shouted, but some people even pulled out their cameras and camcorders to capture Vogel's predicament. "Coward, cooperate, and we'll make you front-page news in the local newspaper tomorrow!" These individuals continued to provoke Vogel relentlessly.

Blake was taken aback by Martin's sudden change of heart, and a group of people laughed at Vogel. Initially, there were only about 20 people hurling insults.

Soon, influenced by the herd mentality, even the cast and crew, fueled by alcohol and a disregard for consequences, began to join in, calling them trash.

Those who Vogel had enlisted to pressure Martin now turned all that pressure onto Vogel.

Martin was shameless, but even Vogel, who was also shameless, couldn't match Martin's level of audacity.

What made it worse was that the person holding the camera and camcorder appeared to be a reporter.

Vogel had put himself in this position, driven by the surrounding atmosphere, fueled by alcohol, and bracing his brain and courage. He made a decision as a real man.

Suppressing the urge to vomit after being shaken, Vogel walked toward the rattlesnake and declared, "Watch and learn, you losers, this is what it means to be a man!"

His father had worked on a snake farm, and Vogel had caught snakes as a child. He was confident.

However, when he reached the pile of rocks and heard the rattlesnake's tail rattling, Vogel suddenly snapped back to his senses.

"What am I doing? Why am I facing a Diamondback Rattlesnake? Isn't this what I set up for Martin Davis?" With a clear head and an inability to suppress his nausea any longer, Vogel opened his mouth wide, and a torrent of vomit gushed out.

The disgusting liquid splattered on the ground and flew in all directions.

The trembling rattlesnake was now drenched in Vogel's vomit, its head and skin covered in the foul substance.

How could a real male snake tolerate such disgusting and disrespectful behavior? The rattlesnake shot out like a dart and sank its fangs into Vogel's leg!

Vogel screamed.

The crowd of onlookers erupted into chaos.

Vogel shook his leg frantically, and in his moment of clarity, he shouted, "Save me! Get help! Call a doctor, quickly!" Many crew members were still contemplating whether to help him or if they'd have a better shot at success without him. Would one less obstacle to the top be a good thing?

A Mexican who had come with Dalot pulled out his mobile phone and made an emergency call.

Of course, no one was foolish enough to assist Vogel and let him dance with the venomous snake.

...

Martin continued to walk away slowly. When chaos erupted behind him, he glanced back, put his hands in his pockets, and distanced himself from the wasteland.

The SUV provided by the crew was parked on the side of the road. Bruce leaned against the door and waved to Martin, as if he were a seductive woman beckoning customers on the streets of Cabo San Lucas.

In the midst of the crowd, Blake observed Vogel, then looked at Martin walking away, suddenly understanding something.

She wasn't interested in watching any further, so she stretched her long legs and strode after Martin.

Blake was certain that this was the true definition of a real man.

Not many people noticed that Martin had left.

Some even believed that Martin was a coward for avoiding the confrontation.

Blake caught up with him, grabbed Martin's arm, and asked, "Are you going back?"

Martin exhaled a mouthful of alcohol. "Let's go back to bed and sober up."

Blake found the scent of alcohol on the male god's breath quite appealing, as if she were licking a dog. "I'll keep you company."

Martin pointed behind him. "Believe it or not, one of those bastards is probably going to report me, and that will be very, very troublesome."

Blake had been a cheerleader since the sixth grade and knew how to handle such situations. "It's okay, you can wait until I turn 18; it won't be long."

Martin suddenly came to a stop.

Blake inquired, "Are you feeling unwell?"

Deliberately, Martin replied, "I feel like throwing up."

Blake reached into her small bag, retrieved tissues and a small bottle of mineral water, and stood by Martin's side.

Martin was quite surprised, accepting the mineral water and taking a sip. "Thanks, that helps."

Blake handed him a tissue. "Wipe away the sweat."

The two of them reached the car, where Bruce awaited with a questioning gaze. Martin nodded slightly, and all three got into the vehicle.

Blake was filled with curiosity but refrained from asking further questions. Instead, she contemplated the entire situation.

Her father had mentioned multiple times that the entertainment industry was rife with conflicts. With a massive base at the bottom and few at the top, fierce battles were inevitable.

Back at the hotel, Martin saw Blake off and then took a shower.

When he emerged, Bruce was on the phone.

After Bruce hung up, Martin inquired, "Is he dead?"

"No," Bruce replied matter-of-factly. "Dalot sent someone to follow him to the hospital and inquire about the idiot's injuries. The rattlesnake injected only a small amount of venom, and he made it to the hospital in time. It won't be life-threatening, but dealing with snake venom is troublesome. He'll need to rest for a while, and if he's unlucky, he might even lose a limb." Martin, with his reckless behavior, had almost created a disaster. Bruce said coldly, "Let it be a lesson."

Bruce found it rather amusing. "I thought he was trying to take advantage of people's drunkenness to pick a fight with you and beat you up, but instead, he used alcohol to goad you into facing a venomous snake." He added, "This is Mexico, not Los Angeles. If that were the case, and you were bitten, it wouldn't have caused as much trouble."

Martin suggested, "Bruce, get a black mamba and put it in his hospital room."

"Man, we're in the entertainment industry now!" This time, it was Bruce who cautioned Martin, "Let's not resort to barbaric methods."