### Chapter 331: The Plot to Bring Down Link

“Let's bring down Link and carve up Link Music. Jay-Z, are you in?”

Eminem, 50 Cent, and the others had just reached the second-floor private room when they overheard this sentence. Eminem immediately stopped in his tracks, looked back at 50 Cent and the others, and whispered if they should continue listening.

50 Cent raised his index finger, signaling ‘shh,’ and pressed his ear against the door, enjoying the eavesdropping.

Eminem shrugged, leaned against the hallway railing, took out his phone to play a game, but kept his ear on the conversation. The voices inside were loud enough that he didn’t need to press his ear to the door.

“Do you think just some rumors can bring down Link?” Jay-Z asked.

“Of course not. But how about adding a criminal case?” Puff Daddy suggested.

“A criminal case? Does Link have any dirt? Do you have any evidence against him?” Jay-Z asked, surprised.

“Not yet. Josie checked through the judicial system, and this guy has been very cautious since adulthood. He doesn’t solicit prostitutes, gamble, or do drugs, nor does he engage in any illegal business. Almost no flaws. But recently, he’s exposed a major weakness – his lust!” Puff Daddy paused before continuing, “Dealing with a lustful person is simple. We just need to arrange for a few young girls to be sent to him, and then have the girls come forward and accuse him afterward. Guess what? He would be disgraced. If he doesn’t want to go to jail, he’ll have to trade shares of Link Music for the evidence. I think he’d be very willing.”

“That sounds good,” Jay-Z said.

Hearing this, Eminem couldn't help but frown, showing a disgusted expression and mouthing ‘trash.’

50 Cent and the others also curled their lips. Even though they weren’t saints, they had never thought of using such a disgusting trick against Link.

“Josie, will you handle this, or should I? Your uncle has more such girls around him and they are more obedient. How about you arrange it?” Puff Daddy said.

“My uncle just got out of prison and is surrounded by a lot of cops watching him. It’s inconvenient to get people from him. You should arrange it,” a lazy voice said.

“How will you arrange it?” Jay-Z asked.

“Eminem’s new album is a big hit, and there’s a celebration party next week. He’s close with Link, so he can invite Link over, and then…”

“Motherfucker!”

Eminem, who had been restraining himself, exploded when he heard they wanted to use him to set up Link. Anger surged from his heels to his head, and he kicked the door open, cursing at 12 words per second, “Trash! A bunch of trash! Calling you trash is an insult to trash. You’re not even worthy of the trash in my bathroom bin. You’re rats, sewer rats, emitting a disgusting stench from your fur, blood, and bones. You hide in sewers all day, plotting against others, thinking of stealing from others. You’re the lowest form of humanity, no, you’re not even human, you’re dog shit. Seeing you and saying your names dirties my eyes and mouth. I’ll have to use disinfectant to rinse my mouth and eyes after this…”

The six people inside were discussing how to bring down Link and divide up Link Music when the door was suddenly kicked open. Eminem stood at the door, his mouth like a machine gun, firing insults at them. They were dumbfounded and couldn’t react.

When they finally reacted, their faces turned as dark as coal. Eminem’s insults were too filthy.

They were either billionaires or wealthy heirs, people with status in New York. But now they were being called trash, dog shit, and sewer rats.

Puff Daddy and Jay-Z’s faces were even darker. As people of color, they hated being discriminated against the most.

Now they were being called despicable sewer rats, the lowest form of humanity. It felt like a toilet brush was being shoved down their throats. Who could tolerate that?

Puff Daddy glared with wide eyes and pulled out a Desert Eagle from his waistband.

“Eminem, stop it.”

Seeing things going south, 50 Cent quickly grabbed Eminem, who was still cursing, covered his mouth, and took a few steps back, smiling, “Jay, continue your conversation. We were just passing by.”

“What are you doing here?” Jay-Z asked with a stern face.

50 Cent chuckled, “Jay, Eminem is just looking out for you. We all know Josie Epstein and Puff Daddy aren’t good people. Eminem is worried you’ll get led astray, so he brought us to advise you.”

“Fuck! 50 Cent, who are you calling not good people?” Puff Daddy cursed.

Although he was called Puff Daddy, he was actually about the same age as Jay-Z, in his early forties. He initially mixed in gangs and sold powder, then founded Bad Boy Records, promoting stars like B.I.G., Jay-Z, Mariah Carey, and Jennifer Lopez, earning billions.

In recent years, he had ventured into business and made some shady deals.

Although he still held a high status in the rap scene, his influence wasn’t as strong as before. The younger generation of top rap singers like 50 Cent didn’t care much for him.

“Hey, Sean, rappers aren’t good people, that’s what your lyrics say,” 50 Cent laughed.

“Get lost! Don’t think you can act arrogant here just because your albums sold millions. If it weren’t for me paving the way, you’d still be a bunch of junkies in the ghetto. You should be grateful to me, got it?” Puff Daddy pointed his gun at them, his face showing displeasure.

“Sean, put the gun away. We’re all friends here,” Jay-Z frowned.

Puff Daddy snorted, said, “You handle it,” and sat back on the sofa, tapping his leg with the gun barrel.

“Eminem, don’t be mad. Come in and sit. Let’s talk,” Jay-Z said gently.

Eminem shook his head, stepped back, scanned the people in the room with disdain, and said, “Jay, we’re friends. Let me give you some advice. Don’t hang out with them, it’s not worth it. Goodbye!”

Eminem pulled his hoodie over his head and walked away without looking back.

Jay-Z and Puff Daddy’s faces turned even darker.

“Jay, Eminem is right. You’re worth billions and have a great wife like Beyoncé. We’re all incredibly jealous of you. You don’t need to mix with these scumbags. What can they bring you? Nothing!” 50 Cent sneered.

“Fuck! 50 Cent, what are you talking about? Do you believe I won’t shoot your filthy mouth off?” Puff Daddy yelled, waving his gun.

The remaining four in the room, Josie Epstein, Peter Pelz, David Zuckerman, and Luther Deutsch, also glared at him angrily.

50 Cent chuckled, pulled out a revolver from his waistband, and waved it, saying, “I have one too. Let’s not scare each other.”

Seeing him pull out a gun, Puff Daddy and the others held their breath and restrained their anger.

Peter Pelz, David Zuckerman, and Luther Deutsch exchanged glances, deeply regretting coming to a black bar. This place wasn’t suitable for white people.

“50 Cent, put the gun away. We’re all friends here,” Jay-Z said.

“Alright, as you wish,” 50 Cent shrugged, put away his gun, smiled at the people in the room, and shouted, “Eminem, wait for me,” before running downstairs.

Drake and Chris Brown scratched their heads, feeling awkward after getting caught up in the mess.

“Forget what you heard just now,” Jay-Z said.

“Alright, we didn’t hear anything,” Drake and Chris Brown shrugged and left the hallway.

Jay-Z stood at the door for a few seconds, then turned back, saying, “Eminem and Link are close. He might tell Link about our plan. With Link on guard, it won’t work. Should we try another approach?”

“Don’t worry. Lust is like addiction; once you have it, it’s hard to quit. Even if Link is cautious, as long as we set a clever trap with some hot girls, he’ll fall for it,” Josie Epstein said confidently.

“Alright, let’s discuss how to divide Link Music’s assets. This is a four-to-five-billion-dollar cake. I haven’t had such a big piece of cake in a long time,” Peter Pelz said excitedly.

Puff Daddy nodded with a smile, instructed two of his men to stand guard at the door, and then closed it again.

end.