207: Chapter 207 Black Jesus: I Really Want to Live

The red lights of the fire trucks were still flashing behind him.

Li Li didn't look back.

He hailed a taxi.

The driver glanced at him several times through the rearview mirror.

Dust, blood, bandages, a torn coat.

In this state, it wouldn't be strange to see him at the entrance of a hospital.

The strange thing was that he was walking out of the hospital.

"Handsome, are you going to the emergency room, or coming out of it?"

Li Li leaned back in the backseat.

"Both."

The driver shut his mouth.

Hong Kong drivers are worldly-wise.

But tonight's passenger was a bit out of the ordinary.

Li Li gave the address for the pier.

The fastest way from Hong Kong to Macau is by boat.

Forty-five minutes.

There's enough time.

The taxi bypassed the blocked road; the Mandarin Oriental was still smoking.

Half of Central was filled with fire trucks, paramedics were running with stretchers on the roadside, and the police tape snapped in the wind.

Li Li lowered his head and took out his phone.

The text message was still there.

[Macau · MGM Cotai Casino · Table 14.]

Yossi.

Fishing.

The fishing rod was practically shoved into his mouth; it would be rude not to take a bite.

However, Li Li didn't reply to the text directly.

He dialed another number first.

The phone rang three times.

The other side picked up.

A woman's voice whispered, very low.

"Mr. Li?"

Li Li looked out the window.

"I'm going to MGM Cotai."

The other side paused for half a second.

"Now?"

"Now."

"What do you need?"

Li Li shifted his position, his left wrist throbbing with pain.

"The casino will operate normally tonight."

"But I don't want to see any strangers near Table 14."

The other side didn't ask any further questions.

She was able to leave the Mandarin Oriental alive tonight because Li Li had pulled her from the hands of the terrorists.

The Eldest Daughter of the Gambling King owed him a favor.

This kind of favor is worth more than a check.

"How many people?"

Li Li spoke.

"As many as you have."

"Don't move the official personnel."

"Casino staff, hotel staff, drivers, cleaners, kitchen staff, security, VIP Hall manager."

"Anyone who can walk counts."

The other side was silent for two seconds.

"Mr. Li, are you planning a war?"

Li Li glanced at his two bandaged hands.

"I'm in no shape to fight."

He paused.

"I'm going to have a heart-to-heart."

The person on the other end didn't waste any more words.

"MGM Cotai will be waiting for you."

Li Li hung up the phone and stuffed it back into his pocket.

The taxi drove toward the pier.

The night wind crept in through the crack in the car window.

Carrying the smell of smoke.

— —

Southeast Asia.

A mountain resort.

Yossi didn't wait for Li Li's return call.

He dialed General Watawobuhu first.

Reporting is the basic procedure in the intelligence industry.

Do the work.

Submit the account.

Collect the money.

The only difference is that ordinary contractors can't collect money, and at most, they blacklist the client.

If they can't collect money, it's easy for their whole family to die.

General Watawobuhu answered quickly.

He was on vacation, nothing serious going on.

"Battle report."

Yossi opened his tablet.

"Hong Kong International Airport Terminal 1 is paralyzed."

"Thirty-seven communication base stations were bombed."

"Six main roads from Central to Causeway Bay are sealed off."

"The southeast corner of the Mandarin Oriental, from the fifth floor to the twenty-fifth floor, has collapsed."

"33 dead, and we also lost a helicopter."

"However, Black Jesus happened to take someone away."

General Watawobuhu didn't respond to that.

Yossi continued.

"Little Superman."

"The son of Hong Kong's richest man."

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds.

"The US target has been successfully transferred to Okinawa."

General Watawobuhu finally spoke.

Yossi understood.

Snowden was no longer in the hands of the Hong Kong police.

General Watawobuhu continued.

"We need to cool things down from here."

"Don't provoke the East anymore."

"Release the hostage."

Yossi closed the tablet.

"We can release him."

"But not for free."

General Watawobuhu didn't take the bait.

"As you wish."

The other side was ready to hang up.

Yossi hurriedly spoke up.

"What about the money?"

General Watawobuhu made no sound.

Yossi sat forward a bit.

"The brothers are waiting to get paid."

"You know how many people died on this job."

"Such a big commotion in Hong Kong consumed a third of my men."

General Watawobuhu finally replied with two words.

"What money?"

The tablet in Yossi's hand clicked as he pressed it.

"Ten times."

He spat out the words one by one.

"You promised it yourself, a ten-fold bonus."

The other end paused for two seconds.

General Watawobuhu's tone didn't change.

"No."

Yossi stood up.

The rattan chair hit the windowsill behind him.

"Say that again?"

General Watawobuhu spoke steadily.

"Yossi, you guys went too far."

"Bombing the airport."

"Bombing the base stations."

"Bombing the hotel."

"Sealing the streets."

"Terrorist attack."

Every word landed like a hammer.

"Over a hundred countries around the world have issued statements of condemnation."

"The UN Security Council is meeting tomorrow."

"John Browning has been recalled to Washington."

"The Commander of the Pacific Fleet has been suspended for investigation."

"The command of Kadena Air Base has also been handed over."

"The people who could pay the money are no longer in their positions."

Yossi clenched his jaw.

He held back for three seconds.

He couldn't help it.

"Bullshit!"

He kicked the rattan chair over.

"You set the plan!"

"You wanted the people!"

"You pushed for the time!"

"All the events were confirmed by you!"

"Now that things have blown up, you tell me there's no money?"

General Watawobuhu paused.

Then he spoke.

"When did I ever say that?"

The room went quiet.

Yossi stood there, his phone pressed to his ear.

He had heard this sentence before.

The CIA had said it.

MI5 had said it.

Everyone who defaults on a debt eventually says this.

When did I ever say that?

No recording.

No contract.

No paper trail.

Intelligence trading relies on the mouth.

Once spoken, it's just air.

Air doesn't pay.

"General Watawobuhu!"

Beep.

The call was disconnected.

Yossi stared at the phone screen.

Call ended.

Four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

The next second.

Crack!

The phone smashed against the wall.

The screen shattered, the battery popped out, and the casing rolled under the bed.

The crew-cut guy at the door poked his head in.

"Boss?"

Yossi reached out his hand.

"New phone."

"Put the card in."

The crew-cut guy didn't waste words.

He took a backup phone from the drawer, crouched down, pried the SIM card out of the broken phone, blew off the dust, and inserted it into the new phone.

He had done this many times.

Every time Yossi's negotiations with a client fell through, a phone had to die.

Hiding in Southeast Asia for half a year, he hadn't changed ammunition this often, but he had gone through over a dozen phones.

The crew-cut guy thought they should talk to Nokia about a partnership.

Durable.

The new phone screen lit up.

The signal appeared.

Yossi dialed the Macau number.

It rang twice.

"Hello."

The voice on the other end wasn't loud, and the first word sounded a bit airy.

Yossi was furious and didn't notice.

"Has he arrived?"

The other side paused.

"He arrived a while ago."

Another half-beat pause.

"He's been waiting for your call."

The person answering the phone was Black Jesus.

A famous figure in the Southeast Asian underworld.

The person in charge of this Macau job.

Yossi had worked with him three times.

The first two times went very smoothly.

"We are in the VIP Hall."

Black Jesus lowered his voice.

"He is sitting right across from me."

"Did he come alone?"

Black Jesus paused again.

This one was less than a second.

If Yossi hadn't just been stiffed out of billions.

If he could still listen to people normally.

He should have been able to hear the problem.

Unfortunately, he only wanted money now.

"Yes."

Black Jesus spoke.

"Alone."

Yossi didn't press further.

"Play with him."

"Play what?"

"Whatever he wants to play, play that."

"Texas Hold'em, Baccarat, Blackjack, Fried Golden Flower."

"Whatever."

Yossi sat back in his chair.

"Play for an hour."

"After an hour, regardless of whether he wins or loses, I will tell him Snowden's whereabouts."

Black Jesus replied.

"Received."

The call was disconnected.

— —

Macau.

2:00 AM.

The MGM Cotai casino hall was still lit.

The sound of chips, the electronic noise of slot machines, and the voices of gamblers cursing the dealer all blended together.

Hong Kong, across the sea, had just experienced a terrorist attack.

Bets were still being placed here.

The casino didn't care how many people died outside.

Here, they only recognize chips.

Table 14.

The innermost part of the VIP Hall.

On the table were chips, two glasses of water, and an unopened deck of cards.

Black Jesus put down the phone.

Li Li sat across from him.

His short, messy hair was covered in dust.

His coat had several tears.

Both hands were wrapped in bandages.

His face still had concrete dust that hadn't been wiped off.

He was currently using chips to play Tetris.

And he was stacking them quite neatly.

The Buddhist beads on Black Jesus's wrist turned once and then got stuck.

He didn't dare touch the water on the table.

His hands were shaking.

Afraid of spilling it.

Li Li didn't even look up.

"What did your boss say?"

Black Jesus's Adam's apple bobbed.

"Let me play with you for an hour."

"Fine."

Li Li pushed the chips apart and opened the new deck of cards.

His bandaged fingers clamped the cards, shuffling them very steadily.

Swish.

The cards were spread out and then gathered back.

"What shall we play?"

Black Jesus spoke.

"You decide."

"Then Texas Hold'em."

Li Li dealt two cards over.

The cards slid to Black Jesus's side.

Black Jesus didn't take them.

Li Li looked up at him.

"Don't be nervous."

Black Jesus didn't reply.

How could he not be nervous?

At the casino entrance, the four valet parking guys had been replaced.

The two concierge staff at the elevator had been replaced.

The VIP Hall manager stood three meters away, holding a walkie-talkie.

The dealer was not the original dealer.

The security was not the original security.

Even the waiter serving water placed the tray too close to him.

What was worse was that in the hall, those gamblers—some placing bets, some watching cards, some cursing the dealer.

But every few seconds, someone would glance over at Table 14.

Not one.

A whole group.

Black Jesus had been in the underworld for so many years, but this was the first time sitting in a casino that he felt he was the chip on the table.

Li Li placed his hole cards face down.

"Right."

He spoke.

"Your hand has been shaking the whole time."

The watch chain on Black Jesus's wrist stopped shaking.

Li Li straightened the chips next to the community cards.

"Relax."

"It's just for fun."

— —

Southeast Asia.

Yossi hung up Black Jesus's phone, but didn't put the phone down.

He opened the text message interface and entered another number.

Not a Macau number.

The content was very short.

[Take out Little Superman.]

[Transfer the money in his account to this address.]

[Run immediately after transferring.]

Below was a string of cryptocurrency wallet addresses.

General Watawobuhu wouldn't pay.

Then he would take it himself.

How much Little Superman is worth isn't important.

What's important is whether this money is enough to pay his men's life price.

The text was sent.

After a dozen seconds.

A reply popped up.

[Received.]

Yossi set the phone on the table.

The outdoor air conditioning unit hummed.

On TV, CNN was no longer broadcasting about Victoria Harbour; it had changed to world leaders lining up to condemn it.

No one was staring at that boeing 777 anymore.

News heat is even less durable than chips.

Yossi picked up the remote and switched to the local Macau channel.

On the screen, the exterior lights of the MGM Cotai hotel were all on.

Taxis were lined up at the entrance.

One hour.

He turned off the TV.

His severed ring finger tapped on the armrest.

Once.

Once.

And at this moment.

Beside Table 14.

Black Jesus watched Li Li shuffle the cards.

Those bandaged hands were so steady it made one's heart cold.

He hadn't dared to tell Yossi on the phone just now.

Those gamblers, dealers, security, managers, waiters in the hall.

Out of a thousand people, nine hundred and ninety-nine weren't there to gamble.

Everyone was waiting for a word from Li Li.

What could he do?

He also wanted to survive.