The crystal chandelier continued to cast a dazzling light over the golden hall.
Everyone watching gaped, tongue-tied.
[Wha… what the heck? Hold up. He got a four of a kind, just like that?]
[Omg too strong! A quad in the first round, he’s got to be some lucky goose blessed by the heavens, right???]
AD
[Anthony couldn’t even win with two pairs? The odds are practically non-existent.]
[Am I the only one who feels that this little whitey had deliberately set him up? Anthony wouldn’t have gone all-in, otherwise. They aren’t playing house; psychological warfare is an important part of it. A miss is as good as a mile, haven’t you heard? Since he lost, he’s got to cough it up.]
How could Anthony not understand?
The colour in his face matched the deep green of the tablecloth on the gambling table.
Anthony really couldn’t figure out how he could’ve had the misfortune of bumping into an exceptional hand that had a less than 1% probability of being drawn.
Could it really have been just a coincidence?
“Dealer, I would like to request a card check.” He fixed an unwavering glare on the white-haired young man.
Texas Hold’em was played with a total of fifty-two poker cards. If all the cards were taken back and stacked together to be searched individually, it would be easy to discover if any cards were switched, or if there were any other cheats.
The dealer, dressed in a red vest, shook her head and held a hand up, bluntly refusing Anthony’s request for a card check.
“My apologies, sir, but Las Vegas does not accept that method of testing.”
Anthony raised his voice sharply. “Does this mean that you condone cheating?”
The dealer had a professional, honeyed smile. “Las Vegas respects the strong. The rules allow any cheats that go undetected by the staff.”
An uproar burst from the crowd.
That was indeed the case. They had witnessed players caught cheating at other tables. Other than the harsh penalty, chips were deducted, and their table access would be temporarily suspended for several hours.
But this remark by the dealer was a direct wake-up call.
Huh, if only those who get caught would be penalised, then what about those who didn’t? It wasn’t as if the system would personally make a trip down to catch the cheaters, right?
“Damn, if that’s so, then can’t everyone cheat?”
“Cheating is fine; the point is you need to have the skill to pull it off without getting caught.”
“I don’t know whether or not this white-haired C-rank cheated, but this is an A-rank gambling table. The dealer has to be of a certain standard. Maybe he really got a lucky hand?”
“Yeah! It’s almost ninety thousand chips! If I had such luck, I’d wake up smiling. Hahahaha speaking of which, what a joke. Anthony looked so cocky earlier, look what happened? Pah! His face must really hurt now.”
The spectators crowded around freely wagging their tongues, and the occasional sound of heartless laughter could be heard.
Anthony had an ugly look as a flush spread across his face.
He had always had an explosive, hair-trigger temper. Now that he suspected he was duped, he looked even more incensed.
The alabaster man flung the platinum gold card in his hand and stood up from the gambling table, striding to stand in front of the person opposite him.
The white-haired young man smiled at him mirthfully, his pale pink eyes curved into beautiful crescent moons, further stoking the flame.
Blue veins jutted out of Anthony’s hands, and the tips of his nails were a deep and foreboding black.
Inexplicably, his gut just knew that the white-haired young man before him must have surely used some unknown means.
And he, Anthony, had stepped into the pit right in front of everyone. He was played like a donkey, losing face in public.
“You damned liar…”
Ktf yief-fsfv wjc klat rjcvs ygbkc tjlg abbx j rafq obgkjgv, tlr mtfra tfjnlcu klat atf lgf bo yflcu obbifv, jcv wjvf ab ugjy atf ijqfir bo atf qfgrbc yfobgf tlw.
Vfcrlcu tlr wbnfwfca, Ibcu Ale qgffwqalnfis abbx j clwyif rafq yjmx. C qijslcu mjgv revvfcis jqqfjgfv ja tlr olcufgalqr, atf megnf bo tlr rwlif ajxlcu bc j qijsoei ilia.
“What’s this? Is it possible that your distinguished self is unable to stand the loss?”
“Oh—” he drawled.
“The noble second-in-command of the Night Clan is actually a sore loser?”
At this, the whispering around them grew louder.
“You think you can coerce me with public opinion?”
Anthony sneered, “Then you’ve made a grave mistake. I don’t care if I win or lose, but you have to pay the price for daring to pull one over me.”
An A-rank seated on the couch wiped his forehead. “Anthony’s going at it again.”
The other B-rank was quite apprehensive. “This musclehead has the one-track mind of a beast. He really lives up to his nickname; he’ll retaliate to anything that makes him unhappy without care for reason.”
Anthony’s nickname was Barbarian. When his temper got the better of him, no reason could speak to him. He was impatient and violent. As long as he felt there was a problem, he would brute force his way through it, heedless of what others thought.
When negotiations broke down, one could only rely on their fists.
Just as Zong Jiu shrugged his shoulders, about to experience for himself what it felt like going up against an A-rank—
A cold voice suddenly came from above.
“Anthony, step down.”
The voice was stern and imposing, eerily reminiscent of an unyielding general who had felled an army by his hands on the battlefield, or a vicious authority, the air around him sharp with the iron tang of blood, permitting no disobedience.
A man in a black and gold uniform slowly walked down from the middlemost gambling table, the red No. 2 badge on his chest glaringly obvious. The square spikes made from old silver beneath his gleaming military boots clacked rhythmically against the ground, as well as the sabre hanging by his waist, pounding into the spectator’s hearts.
His skin was ivory white, and the deep contours of his face were cold. He had neatly combed grey hair, his dark red eyes arrogant and sharp. An oppressive yin aura seemed to emanate powerfully with every step he took.
Hearing this voice, the alabaster half-vampire turned rigid. His pupils contracted, and he directly got on one knee.
“Your Lordship.”
Anthony’s submission caused the whole venue to fall silent.
In the past, teams couldn’t run into each other in the infinite loop often, and there weren’t any powerful modes to disseminate information such as the system’s live broadcast. Therefore, everyone had heard of the Night Clan, a guild that stood at the peak of the contenders.
Aside from knowing the core members of the guild were half-vampires, a more interesting talking point was the horrifyingly strict power hierarchy within the Night Clan.
The contenders in the infinite loop struggled on the fringes of life and death. Entrenched in this life and death environment, the hierarchy gap that naturally evolved between humans grew all the wider.
Leaving aside those contenders who wouldn’t spare anything for survival, there were many underhanded deals and dirty tricks to stay alive. Even so, in the infinite loop, it was extremely rare to witness gestures of subservience from a lower class to a higher class like those that existed in the Night Clan.
[Omg… what even is this? Unconditional submission? Is the Qing dynasty dead?]
[Wow, the rumours about the internal terror of the Night Clan turned out to be true. Seeing is believing, gosh.]
[Isn’t it quite normal? You should be able to understand as long as you’ve been to any vampire-themed horror instances. To vampires, hierarchy represents everything. From the prince to the duke, to the marquis to the count, to the viscount to the baron, the gap between the ranks is insurmountable, and these ranks are established from the beginning. Since Van Zhuo was personally bitten by a third-generation blood prince, wouldn’t he be considered somewhat like a fourth-generation prince, which is much purer than others like Anthony with a seventh or eighth generation blood lineage.]
[Wtf. Psychological submission sounds horrible. Sure enough, power always comes with a cost, tch.]
Despite the kneeling posture, the military-clad man didn’t give the person on the ground a single look.
Cold beads of sweat pricked out of Anthony’s forehead as he watched the military boots indifferently brush past him from his peripheral vision.
After the second round of evaluation just yesterday, His Lordship had told him to pay attention to the white-haired C-rank. But it was obvious that it would be difficult to find someone amidst the many thriller trainees who knew this newcomer, so Anthony had it in his head to sound him out himself.
He had initially intended to put the newcomer in his place while complying with His Lordship’s orders. But his temper got the better of him; any misgivings were directly wiped clean from his mind.
However, Anthony never expected that His Lordship would come down in person!
Regret and anxiety complexed Anthony’s heart, intertwined with hatred for that white-haired liar.
But no one cared about what he thought now.
Everyone was watching the man in the military uniform walk step by step to stand in front of the white-haired young man.
The other person was very tall. His features carried the unique advantage of Slavic ancestry, and he was nearly a full head taller than Zong Jiu even though Zong Jiu himself was slightly over 1.8 metres tall. A shadow loomed over him from the person standing opposite him, easily giving off a sense of oppression.
Zong Jiu disliked looking up at people, and he disliked backing up even more. So, he very calmly sat back down, playing with the cards in one hand and propping up his head with the other. His expression was indolent, and his posture relaxed and casual.
Naturally, this action caused everyone around to draw in a chilly breath.
Everyone knew that No. 2 was cold and uncompromising, hailed as a godslayer in the past. Zong Jiu was really the only one who dared to be this impetuous in front of him.
But not only did Zong Jiu dare to act this way, he even slowly spun the poker card on his fingertip, taking the initiative to speak. “Coming here at this time, does Your Lordship intend to avenge your subordinate?”
Everyone jolted.
[No way, he actually spoke first, he actually spoke first?]
[Regardless… I’d like to light a stick of incense for this white-haired warrior.]
[Even if it’s for revenge, I don’t think he would do it in public? No. 2 is the leader of the Night Clan, after all. And his subordinate merely lost a game, I don’t think he’d go that far.]
[I think what the person upstairs said makes sense.]
Having said that, the muscles of Zong Jiu’s arms, hidden under long sleeves, were already pulled tight.
The aura of having slaughtered a sea of corpses was heavily sedimented in the other’s bearing. It was obvious at first glance that this was someone who had waged war and taken many lives on the battlefield. He had countless subordinates under him, and had very likely experienced a certain type of special instance.
He just needed to have a headstart when he was up against the A-rank Anthony; with Zong Jiu’s temporarily strengthened hands, he might still have a fifty-fifty odds of winning. But against this military-clad man, Zong Jiu conservatively estimated that by his present strength, he could probably go no more than three moves.
As he was on the defensive, Zong Jiu decided to seize the initiative to speak from the other, preempting the conversation.
“You’re overthinking it.”
A long while.
It was only after slowly searing a sharp gaze deep with indecipherable meaning over white-haired young man did that man with dark red eyes speak. “I am here to express my apologies for my subordinate’s imprudence.”
The crowd roared.
Anthony, who was still kneeling on the ground, shouted in disbelief, “Your Lordship—”
This time, it was Zong Jiu who was taken aback.
After a moment, he put aside the poker card and applauded, smiling. His applause echoed through the golden hall.
“As expected of No. 2. Your Lordship has an admirable spirit.”
The white-haired young man rose from the gambling table, absently playing with the gold card containing almost ninety thousand chips on his fingertips, his brows drawing together slightly.
“But I’m not someone who likes to be misunderstood. Since your subordinate was questioning me, why don’t we play a game to prove my innocence?”
Pale pink eyes crinkled, unapologetically meeting dark red eyes with a faint smile. “What does Your Lordship think about that?”
Zong Jiu was making a gamble.
After winning at the A-rank gambling pool, his next target was the middlemost gambling table.
Naturally, before stepping up to the middlemost gambling table, he had to find a justifiable reason to stand on the same stage as those S-ranks. Otherwise, to protect their image, the S-ranks may not necessarily be willing to play with a lowly C-rank newcomer like him. Moreover, he still needed to find several walking charities with many leeks, making it easier for him to fish chips out of their pockets.
And then, said walking charity delivered himself to the doorstep?
Besides that, something else concerned Zong Jiu slightly.
The look that this No. 2 named Van Zhuo gave him felt slightly odd.
It was hard to describe. It brought six-tenths of scrutiny, three-tenths of contemplation, and even one-tenth of something he couldn’t quite grasp.
If he really had to put it into words, it would be as if… he knew him in the past.
But how could that be?
Zong Jiu was extremely certain that he didn’t know the other, let alone that he was a good and proper transmigrator.
So there was only one explanation left.
That was, Van Zhuo knew the canonical character.
This speculation wasn’t completely improbable. Zong Jiu hadn’t even finished reading the first instance of the novel before he became a stand-in, and No. 2 wasn’t even in the same instance; it was impossible that they had encountered each other in the Mental Asylum.
Thinking deeper into it, with the canonical character’s provocative appearance, he likely wasn’t any sort of silent nobody in the real world. If he wasn’t careful, they really might have known each other well in the past. After all, the system would block information about the real world, but wouldn’t block memory of interpersonal relationships. It was common to find people previously acquainted with each other dragged into the infinite loop.
As Zong Jiu waited for an answer, the gears of his mind spun very quickly.
Their eyes met. He could very clearly see something complicated hidden behind the coldness of his eyes.
A moment later, Van Zhuo slowly and elegantly nodded. “Whyever not?”
He inclined forward slightly, the double headed eagle badge on his chest sliding down to his outstretched arm as he pointed towards the middlemost gambling table.
“Yes, I’ll play with you.”
With this, the crowd who had been watching soundlessly with bated breaths boiled over again.
“Does this mean that they’re going to play another round?”
“Wait, wait. What’s going on. Why isn’t he playing with Anthony, why must Van Zhuo gamble with him?”
“Van Zhuo will personally play a game against this white-haired C-rank?”
“My god, this is the venerated No. 2 himself…”
Zong Jiu smiled faintly, straightening his posture. They went through the messy crowd of people who were looking at them in awe, parting like the red sea for Moses, and walked straight to the luxurious gambling table at the very heart of the golden hall of Las Vegas.
However, the next moment, a hush once again descended the hall.
Because there was already someone seated at the most prominent seat at the furthest end of the gambling table.
The man was dressed in a black suit, the cravat of his white shirt neatly folded in front of him, and the rose on his chest stained with evening dew.
His handsome face was wickedly serene under the cast light, dark silhouettes swimming aimlessly in the darkness beneath his feet.
“Oh, my.”
The Devil narrowed his eyes, his dark golden eyes fixated on the white-haired young man.
He licked his lips, the smile on the corners of his lips widening like a child finding an interesting new toy, making a chill go down people’s spines.
“Are you going to play a game? How about adding me?”
The crystal chandelier continued to cast a dazzling light over the golden hall.
Everyone watching gaped, tongue-tied.
[Wha… what the heck? Hold up. He got a four of a kind, just like that?]
[Omg too strong! A quad in the first round, he’s got to be some lucky goose blessed by the heavens, right???]
AD
[Anthony couldn’t even win with two pairs? The odds are practically non-existent.]
[Am I the only one who feels that this little whitey had deliberately set him up? Anthony wouldn’t have gone all-in, otherwise. They aren’t playing house; psychological warfare is an important part of it. A miss is as good as a mile, haven’t you heard? Since he lost, he’s got to cough it up.]
How could Anthony not understand?
The colour in his face matched the deep green of the tablecloth on the gambling table.
Anthony really couldn’t figure out how he could’ve had the misfortune of bumping into an exceptional hand that had a less than 1% probability of being drawn.
Could it really have been just a coincidence?
“Dealer, I would like to request a card check.” He fixed an unwavering glare on the white-haired young man.
Texas Hold’em was played with a total of fifty-two poker cards. If all the cards were taken back and stacked together to be searched individually, it would be easy to discover if any cards were switched, or if there were any other cheats.
The dealer, dressed in a red vest, shook her head and held a hand up, bluntly refusing Anthony’s request for a card check.
“My apologies, sir, but Las Vegas does not accept that method of testing.”
Anthony raised his voice sharply. “Does this mean that you condone cheating?”
The dealer had a professional, honeyed smile. “Las Vegas respects the strong. The rules allow any cheats that go undetected by the staff.”
An uproar burst from the crowd.
That was indeed the case. They had witnessed players caught cheating at other tables. Other than the harsh penalty, chips were deducted, and their table access would be temporarily suspended for several hours.
But this remark by the dealer was a direct wake-up call.
Huh, if only those who get caught would be penalised, then what about those who didn’t? It wasn’t as if the system would personally make a trip down to catch the cheaters, right?
“Damn, if that’s so, then can’t everyone cheat?”
“Cheating is fine; the point is you need to have the skill to pull it off without getting caught.”
“I don’t know whether or not this white-haired C-rank cheated, but this is an A-rank gambling table. The dealer has to be of a certain standard. Maybe he really got a lucky hand?”
“Yeah! It’s almost ninety thousand chips! If I had such luck, I’d wake up smiling. Hahahaha speaking of which, what a joke. Anthony looked so cocky earlier, look what happened? Pah! His face must really hurt now.”
The spectators crowded around freely wagging their tongues, and the occasional sound of heartless laughter could be heard.
Anthony had an ugly look as a flush spread across his face.
He had always had an explosive, hair-trigger temper. Now that he suspected he was duped, he looked even more incensed.
The alabaster man flung the platinum gold card in his hand and stood up from the gambling table, striding to stand in front of the person opposite him.
The white-haired young man smiled at him mirthfully, his pale pink eyes curved into beautiful crescent moons, further stoking the flame.
Blue veins jutted out of Anthony’s hands, and the tips of his nails were a deep and foreboding black.
Inexplicably, his gut just knew that the white-haired young man before him must have surely used some unknown means.
And he, Anthony, had stepped into the pit right in front of everyone. He was played like a donkey, losing face in public.
“You damned liar…”
Ktf yief-fsfv wjc klat rjcvs ygbkc tjlg abbx j rafq obgkjgv, tlr mtfra tfjnlcu klat atf lgf bo yflcu obbifv, jcv wjvf ab ugjy atf ijqfir bo atf qfgrbc yfobgf tlw.
Vfcrlcu tlr wbnfwfca, Ibcu Ale qgffwqalnfis abbx j clwyif rafq yjmx. C qijslcu mjgv revvfcis jqqfjgfv ja tlr olcufgalqr, atf megnf bo tlr rwlif ajxlcu bc j qijsoei ilia.
“What’s this? Is it possible that your distinguished self is unable to stand the loss?”
“Oh—” he drawled.
“The noble second-in-command of the Night Clan is actually a sore loser?”
At this, the whispering around them grew louder.
“You think you can coerce me with public opinion?”
Anthony sneered, “Then you’ve made a grave mistake. I don’t care if I win or lose, but you have to pay the price for daring to pull one over me.”
An A-rank seated on the couch wiped his forehead. “Anthony’s going at it again.”
The other B-rank was quite apprehensive. “This musclehead has the one-track mind of a beast. He really lives up to his nickname; he’ll retaliate to anything that makes him unhappy without care for reason.”
Anthony’s nickname was Barbarian. When his temper got the better of him, no reason could speak to him. He was impatient and violent. As long as he felt there was a problem, he would brute force his way through it, heedless of what others thought.
When negotiations broke down, one could only rely on their fists.
Just as Zong Jiu shrugged his shoulders, about to experience for himself what it felt like going up against an A-rank—
A cold voice suddenly came from above.
“Anthony, step down.”
The voice was stern and imposing, eerily reminiscent of an unyielding general who had felled an army by his hands on the battlefield, or a vicious authority, the air around him sharp with the iron tang of blood, permitting no disobedience.
A man in a black and gold uniform slowly walked down from the middlemost gambling table, the red No. 2 badge on his chest glaringly obvious. The square spikes made from old silver beneath his gleaming military boots clacked rhythmically against the ground, as well as the sabre hanging by his waist, pounding into the spectator’s hearts.
His skin was ivory white, and the deep contours of his face were cold. He had neatly combed grey hair, his dark red eyes arrogant and sharp. An oppressive yin aura seemed to emanate powerfully with every step he took.
Hearing this voice, the alabaster half-vampire turned rigid. His pupils contracted, and he directly got on one knee.
“Your Lordship.”
Anthony’s submission caused the whole venue to fall silent.
In the past, teams couldn’t run into each other in the infinite loop often, and there weren’t any powerful modes to disseminate information such as the system’s live broadcast. Therefore, everyone had heard of the Night Clan, a guild that stood at the peak of the contenders.
Aside from knowing the core members of the guild were half-vampires, a more interesting talking point was the horrifyingly strict power hierarchy within the Night Clan.
The contenders in the infinite loop struggled on the fringes of life and death. Entrenched in this life and death environment, the hierarchy gap that naturally evolved between humans grew all the wider.
Leaving aside those contenders who wouldn’t spare anything for survival, there were many underhanded deals and dirty tricks to stay alive. Even so, in the infinite loop, it was extremely rare to witness gestures of subservience from a lower class to a higher class like those that existed in the Night Clan.
[Omg… what even is this? Unconditional submission? Is the Qing dynasty dead?]
[Wow, the rumours about the internal terror of the Night Clan turned out to be true. Seeing is believing, gosh.]
[Isn’t it quite normal? You should be able to understand as long as you’ve been to any vampire-themed horror instances. To vampires, hierarchy represents everything. From the prince to the duke, to the marquis to the count, to the viscount to the baron, the gap between the ranks is insurmountable, and these ranks are established from the beginning. Since Van Zhuo was personally bitten by a third-generation blood prince, wouldn’t he be considered somewhat like a fourth-generation prince, which is much purer than others like Anthony with a seventh or eighth generation blood lineage.]
[Wtf. Psychological submission sounds horrible. Sure enough, power always comes with a cost, tch.]
Despite the kneeling posture, the military-clad man didn’t give the person on the ground a single look.
Cold beads of sweat pricked out of Anthony’s forehead as he watched the military boots indifferently brush past him from his peripheral vision.
After the second round of evaluation just yesterday, His Lordship had told him to pay attention to the white-haired C-rank. But it was obvious that it would be difficult to find someone amidst the many thriller trainees who knew this newcomer, so Anthony had it in his head to sound him out himself.
He had initially intended to put the newcomer in his place while complying with His Lordship’s orders. But his temper got the better of him; any misgivings were directly wiped clean from his mind.
However, Anthony never expected that His Lordship would come down in person!
Regret and anxiety complexed Anthony’s heart, intertwined with hatred for that white-haired liar.
But no one cared about what he thought now.
Everyone was watching the man in the military uniform walk step by step to stand in front of the white-haired young man.
The other person was very tall. His features carried the unique advantage of Slavic ancestry, and he was nearly a full head taller than Zong Jiu even though Zong Jiu himself was slightly over 1.8 metres tall. A shadow loomed over him from the person standing opposite him, easily giving off a sense of oppression.
Zong Jiu disliked looking up at people, and he disliked backing up even more. So, he very calmly sat back down, playing with the cards in one hand and propping up his head with the other. His expression was indolent, and his posture relaxed and casual.
Naturally, this action caused everyone around to draw in a chilly breath.
Everyone knew that No. 2 was cold and uncompromising, hailed as a godslayer in the past. Zong Jiu was really the only one who dared to be this impetuous in front of him.
But not only did Zong Jiu dare to act this way, he even slowly spun the poker card on his fingertip, taking the initiative to speak. “Coming here at this time, does Your Lordship intend to avenge your subordinate?”
Everyone jolted.
[No way, he actually spoke first, he actually spoke first?]
[Regardless… I’d like to light a stick of incense for this white-haired warrior.]
[Even if it’s for revenge, I don’t think he would do it in public? No. 2 is the leader of the Night Clan, after all. And his subordinate merely lost a game, I don’t think he’d go that far.]
[I think what the person upstairs said makes sense.]
Having said that, the muscles of Zong Jiu’s arms, hidden under long sleeves, were already pulled tight.
The aura of having slaughtered a sea of corpses was heavily sedimented in the other’s bearing. It was obvious at first glance that this was someone who had waged war and taken many lives on the battlefield. He had countless subordinates under him, and had very likely experienced a certain type of special instance.
He just needed to have a headstart when he was up against the A-rank Anthony; with Zong Jiu’s temporarily strengthened hands, he might still have a fifty-fifty odds of winning. But against this military-clad man, Zong Jiu conservatively estimated that by his present strength, he could probably go no more than three moves.
As he was on the defensive, Zong Jiu decided to seize the initiative to speak from the other, preempting the conversation.
“You’re overthinking it.”
A long while.
It was only after slowly searing a sharp gaze deep with indecipherable meaning over white-haired young man did that man with dark red eyes speak. “I am here to express my apologies for my subordinate’s imprudence.”
The crowd roared.
Anthony, who was still kneeling on the ground, shouted in disbelief, “Your Lordship—”
This time, it was Zong Jiu who was taken aback.
After a moment, he put aside the poker card and applauded, smiling. His applause echoed through the golden hall.
“As expected of No. 2. Your Lordship has an admirable spirit.”
The white-haired young man rose from the gambling table, absently playing with the gold card containing almost ninety thousand chips on his fingertips, his brows drawing together slightly.
“But I’m not someone who likes to be misunderstood. Since your subordinate was questioning me, why don’t we play a game to prove my innocence?”
Pale pink eyes crinkled, unapologetically meeting dark red eyes with a faint smile. “What does Your Lordship think about that?”
Zong Jiu was making a gamble.
After winning at the A-rank gambling pool, his next target was the middlemost gambling table.
Naturally, before stepping up to the middlemost gambling table, he had to find a justifiable reason to stand on the same stage as those S-ranks. Otherwise, to protect their image, the S-ranks may not necessarily be willing to play with a lowly C-rank newcomer like him. Moreover, he still needed to find several walking charities with many leeks, making it easier for him to fish chips out of their pockets.
And then, said walking charity delivered himself to the doorstep?
Besides that, something else concerned Zong Jiu slightly.
The look that this No. 2 named Van Zhuo gave him felt slightly odd.
It was hard to describe. It brought six-tenths of scrutiny, three-tenths of contemplation, and even one-tenth of something he couldn’t quite grasp.
If he really had to put it into words, it would be as if… he knew him in the past.
But how could that be?
Zong Jiu was extremely certain that he didn’t know the other, let alone that he was a good and proper transmigrator.
So there was only one explanation left.
That was, Van Zhuo knew the canonical character.
This speculation wasn’t completely improbable. Zong Jiu hadn’t even finished reading the first instance of the novel before he became a stand-in, and No. 2 wasn’t even in the same instance; it was impossible that they had encountered each other in the Mental Asylum.
Thinking deeper into it, with the canonical character’s provocative appearance, he likely wasn’t any sort of silent nobody in the real world. If he wasn’t careful, they really might have known each other well in the past. After all, the system would block information about the real world, but wouldn’t block memory of interpersonal relationships. It was common to find people previously acquainted with each other dragged into the infinite loop.
As Zong Jiu waited for an answer, the gears of his mind spun very quickly.
Their eyes met. He could very clearly see something complicated hidden behind the coldness of his eyes.
A moment later, Van Zhuo slowly and elegantly nodded. “Whyever not?”
He inclined forward slightly, the double headed eagle badge on his chest sliding down to his outstretched arm as he pointed towards the middlemost gambling table.
“Yes, I’ll play with you.”
With this, the crowd who had been watching soundlessly with bated breaths boiled over again.
“Does this mean that they’re going to play another round?”
“Wait, wait. What’s going on. Why isn’t he playing with Anthony, why must Van Zhuo gamble with him?”
“Van Zhuo will personally play a game against this white-haired C-rank?”
“My god, this is the venerated No. 2 himself…”
Zong Jiu smiled faintly, straightening his posture. They went through the messy crowd of people who were looking at them in awe, parting like the red sea for Moses, and walked straight to the luxurious gambling table at the very heart of the golden hall of Las Vegas.
However, the next moment, a hush once again descended the hall.
Because there was already someone seated at the most prominent seat at the furthest end of the gambling table.
The man was dressed in a black suit, the cravat of his white shirt neatly folded in front of him, and the rose on his chest stained with evening dew.
His handsome face was wickedly serene under the cast light, dark silhouettes swimming aimlessly in the darkness beneath his feet.
“Oh, my.”
The Devil narrowed his eyes, his dark golden eyes fixated on the white-haired young man.
He licked his lips, the smile on the corners of his lips widening like a child finding an interesting new toy, making a chill go down people’s spines.
“Are you going to play a game? How about adding me?”
