85: Cut the weeds and eliminate the roots

With the sound of gunshots, the horror on the faces of A Hu and Baozi was frozen forever as their bodies fell straight backward.

Just as the Dragon-Tiger-Leopard trio were feeling smug, they had emptied their magazines.

Taking advantage of this gap, Lu Fan, wearing his multifunctional glasses, never missed a shot, raising his hand to deliver some peanuts.

Accurately sending A Hu and Baozi across the Naihe Bridge.

Seeing that all was lost, A Long knelt on one knee, his eyes filled with the ash of despair.

He looked at Lu Fan in disbelief, his mind filled with: How did the other party survive?

"Who sent you?"

Lu Fan stepped forward expressionlessly, his voice like ice, the cold muzzle of the gun pressed against the man's temple.

Karma is a cycle; a familiar scene repeated itself.

"Asking what you already know... you... you provoked someone you shouldn't have, Young Master Zhang..."

Before A Long could finish his threat, the trigger was pulled, "Bang—"

"Zhang Fayao..." Lu Fan repeated the name, the last trace of warmth disappearing from his eyes.

Only pure, cold killing intent remained.

The sound of sirens came from afar, and Lu Fan got into the car and drove away.

An hour later, it was late at night, but the "Xinli" Casino was still bustling and noisy.

A japanese wearing a Japan-style suit and sporting a signature small mustache entered the casino.

His eyes were arrogant, his chin slightly raised, as he loudly scolded the gamblers blocking his way in stiff, accented Chinese mixed with japanese.

"baka! Move! Meshi-meshi work!"

He pushed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, looked around, and strode toward the most crowded Sic Bo table as if no one else was there.

The crowd was intimidated by this arrogant aura and subconsciously made way.

The japanese pushed aside a gambler blocking the front of the table and took the main seat grandly.

He slapped a gold bar onto the gambling table with a "thud" and gestured contemptuously for the dealer to start.

The dealer was an old hand; he frowned and skillfully shook the dice cup.

After a few breaths, the dealer called out in A Long voice: "Place your bets, hands off—"

"Big! Bet on Big!" The japanese placed the gold bar all at once on the "Big" area.

"Open! Four, five, six, fifteen points, Big!" the dealer chanted.

The chips were pushed over, and the gold bar doubled in an instant.

But the japanese had no intention of stopping, shouting in japanese: "Soga! Continue!"

Half an hour later, the entire casino fell into a dead silence, and everyone present had gathered around the Big/Small table.

Because this arrogant japanese gambler seemed to be possessed by a god or demon, winning every single bet.

First round: Bet on Big, win!

Second round: Bet on Small, win again!

Third round: Bet on Triple, hit! A huge payout!

Fourth round: Bet on Big, win!

Fifth round: Bet on a specific Triple of ones, hit again!

Sixth round: Bet on a point combination, hit again!

Seventh round: Bet all on a specific Triple of fours again, hit again!!!

In just seven rounds of Sic Bo, three dealers had been replaced, each one pale and dripping with sweat.

The huge amount of reserve silver money the casino had specially replenished for this table was visibly swept clean by him alone.

That mountain of silver money was like a monument of shame that could crush the casino at any time!

The casino was in total chaos!

The japanese gambler quite enjoyed the panic within the silence.

He grabbed a handful of silver dollars and tossed them clattering into the air, letting them hit the gamblers and the table, making a piercing sound.

He laughed wildly and roared in that harsh voice: "Hahaha! Soga! Casino, trash! Big trash!

Money! Too easy to win! No fun!"

He stood up on the chair, looking down on the world with a domineering air, "Your boss! Zhang Fayao! Shrinking turtle work?

Tell him to get out here, I want to gamble with him and win even his underwear, hahaha!

If he doesn't come out, I'll win until this place closes down! baka!"

The eyes of all casino employees and executives were focused on this overbearing gambler, who was like a god of plague.

Only one thought was in their minds: If Young Master Yao doesn't come soon, the casino will really be torn down by him alone!

The dead silence of the casino was broken by a burst of hurried footsteps and angry cursing.

"Which blind Eastern Devil dares to run wild on my turf? Are you tired of living!"

Zhang Fayao, leading several fierce thugs, pushed through the crowd and stormed in angrily.

Seeing the mountain of silver money behind the gambling table, his face turned ashen, "Little Bastard, you dare to stir up trouble on my head? State your name!"

"Ware ware, Takebe Shijin, desu." The japanese introduced himself with a thick Kanto accent.

Then, with a contemptuous look, he asked in stiff Chinese mixed with japanese: "You, Zhang Fayao, a little punk."

"Damn it—" When had Zhang Fayao ever been insulted to his face like this? He was about to explode with rage.

But under the watchful eyes of the crowd, for the sake of his reputation, he suppressed his anger and gave a sinister smile: "Fine, Takebe Shijin, right? You've got guts!

Do you dare to gamble with me, one round to decide it all! If you win, take the money and get lost.

If you lose... hmph, leave those dog paws of yours behind."

"Soga!" Takebe Shijin laughed wildly, "Very good! Gamble! We'll gamble with dice!"

He suddenly pushed the mountain of chips in front of him toward the center of the table.

Zhang Fayao's eyes twitched; the value of those chips far exceeded his estimation.

But the arrow was on the string; he couldn't back down.

He waved to his subordinates: "Bring my cashier's check! Match the bet!"

A huge cashier's check was slapped onto the gambling table.

A flash of imperceptible ruthlessness crossed his eyes, and he gave a look to a confidant nearby.

The confidant immediately turned and brought over a more ancient and heavy dice cup.

Zhang Fayao shouted with his neck stiffened: "Little Bastard, your Grandpa Zhang will use this fine red sandalwood dice cup and ivory dice to send you on your way."

The dealer took a deep breath and, under countless gazes, shook the red sandalwood dice cup vigorously.

As the dice cup landed heavily, Takebe Shijin spat out a few words with a look of certain victory: "Four, two, one, Small"

The dealer's hands trembled as he slowly lifted the lid—

"Four, two, six! Ten—" The dealer had just called out the points.

"Bang!"

A large hand slammed down on the lid that had just been lifted, with such force that it shoved the lid back down.

The base cracked under the immense force, revealing a spring mechanism inside.

"baka yaro." Takebe Shijin let out a deafening roar, his face filled with extreme anger and disdain.

Pointing at the red sandalwood dice cup, he scolded in stiff but clear Chinese: "Zhang-san, you, very shameless, cheating work!"

Being caught cheating in public was a fact, and Zhang Fayao's face instantly turned as pale as paper.

He became exasperated, his hand shaking as he pointed at Takebe Shijin: "You... you're making false accusations, slander! Seize this Eastern Devil who's here to cause trouble!"

The thugs behind him immediately lunged forward ferociously!

"Bang!"

Blue smoke rose from the muzzle of a Nambu Type 14 pistol.

The bullet shot with unerring accuracy into the center of Zhang Fayao's forehead.

The rage and horror on Zhang Fayao's face froze instantly; until his death, he didn't understand how the other party saw through his mechanism.

Even less did he understand why the other party dared to shoot directly; his father was one of The Three Tycoons, the Boss of Hooligans.

Zhang Fayao fell straight backward.

With a "thud," he hit the floor, blood gushing out.

Silence! Absolute silence!

After a few breaths, as the gun fired again, the crowd began to stir.

"Ah— Murder! The little jap killed someone—"

"Young Master Yao is dead!"

"Run!"

Amidst the extreme chaos, Takebe Shijin glanced coldly at Zhang Fayao's corpse.

Then he threw out a few pineapple grenades, escalating the chaos further.

In the sound of the explosions, he quietly vanished into the crowd, leaving after the deed was done.