(2/4)
Anchor Hall
Chapter 541: Win-win
The game was still going on.
After the overly crazy bluff in the first round, Wen Jianyan was clearly much more restrained than before.
After all, the reason he managed to succeed last time was mainly because he caught them off guard, and a trick will not work as well the second time.
Very soon, No. 8 gradually found his rhythm too: after Wen Jianyan’s two-game winning streak, No. 8 used the victories in the next three games to quickly recover chips worth one hundred million.
On the blood‑red table, playing cards lay face‑up, and red chips were stacked on both sides of the players; when they were tossed out, they made crisp, ringing sounds.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[How’s the situation now?]
[Very deadlocked, they’ve already played six rounds, and the wins and losses are split evenly, but overall it still looks like the anchor has the advantage… after all, he won too much in the first round.]
[Exactly, in the five rounds after that, it felt like both sides were testing each other, and neither of them placed bets as big as before.]
However, after the first six rounds ended, the momentum at the table began to slowly shift.
Seventh round, No. 8 won, taking thirty million.
Eighth round, No. 8 won, taking two hundred and ten million.
Ninth round, Wen Jianyan won, taking fifty million.
Tenth round, No. 8 won, taking one hundred and twenty million.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…]
[Ahhhh!! Can one person’s luck really be this rotten? How can it be this rotten!!]
[This is seriously terrifying!!! Ten rounds and he actually hit High Card three times—that’s the weakest hand in Texas Hold’em, isn’t a 30% probability a bit too high?!]
[And that’s not even the worst of it! Even when the anchor doesn’t get High Card, his luck is still mediocre; last last hand he finally managed to catch a Full House, and the opponent actually had a Straight Flush! I’m completely broken.]
[Who gets this? I’m already drenched in sweat right now.]
[It’s not just Texas Hold’em; in any kind of gambling this kind of situation is really dangerous, as the saying goes, defeat comes like a landslide—once your luck turns bad, it’s really possible to just keep losing all the way down.]
Not far away, Mesvis was constantly observing the subtle shifts in atmosphere at the table.
With just a light glance at the number of chips by their hands, he immediately saw what was going on.
“Ninety‑three pieces left.”
It was like tossing a rock into air that had already grown stagnant; the sound of it landing made everyone’s heart involuntarily clench.
“Looks like you won’t be able to leave this table for the time being.”
Mesvis propped his chin up with one hand, those eyes with very little white in them staring fixedly at Wen Jianyan, a mysterious smile hanging on his face.
Wen Jianyan’s fingers resting on the table twitched slightly beyond his control.
Of course, he understood what the other party’s words meant.
Although Wen Jianyan had a total of 150 chips on the table, all of his assets only amounted to the value of 15 chips; in other words… he had, in fact, already lost his entire net worth.
Before losing those 15 chips, Wen Jianyan still had the option to walk away from the table, but after losing them, he could only keep gambling—until he lost everything and fell deep into debt.
“The ten rounds are over,” No. 8 sat across from him at the table, that ageless baby face blooming with a bright smile, “would you like to change games?”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Change!]
[You absolutely have to change!!]
[Yeah, you have to cut your losses quickly now.]
[This kind of thing really depends on your state; once you start losing you’ll just keep losing, better to switch to another game and start over—maybe you can even turn your luck around…]
“No.”
Wen Jianyan lifted his eyes and spat out a single word.
He leaned back slightly, tossed his cards back onto the table, and said, “Still Texas Hold’em, continue.”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…]
[You’re out of your mind!!!]
“Alright.”
The smile on No. 8’s face widened.
Figaro shook his head helplessly, let out a sigh, and began dealing again.
First round, No. 8 won, taking fifty million.
Second round, Wen Jianyan won, taking thirty million.
Third round, No. 8 won, taking fifty million.
Fourth round, No. 8 won, taking thirty million.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[The bets got smaller…]
[Yeah, and the anchor is folding more and more often before all the community cards are dealt.]
[He has no choice, the anchor has lost too much, he has to get cautious now; if the cards are bad, all he can do is cut his losses.]
Very quickly, after playing eight such small, skirmish‑like rounds, the second set of Texas Hold’em came to the ninth hand.
Two hole cards were dealt, first blind‑betting round.
Wen Jianyan bet two chips, No. 8 called with two and raised one.
Three community cards were dealt: one Ace of Spades, one Six of Hearts, one Ten of Clubs.
Wen Jianyan bet two, No. 8 called two and raised two.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Hiss, even though they’ve already played like this for several rounds, watching it still makes it hard to breathe…]
[The betting has only gone through two rounds, and there’s already one hundred and ten million in the pot, damn, that’s too scary—why are they suddenly playing this hand so big?]
The fourth community card was the Nine of Diamonds.
Wen Jianyan turned the Ouroboros ring on his hand, gave a small smile, then counted out chips from the table one by one and threw them onto the felt.
One, two, three… ten.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Ah?]
[Ah??]
[You’re doing this again?? You’re doing this again???]
[…]
No. 8 stared at Wen Jianyan and smiled as well.
“Fold.”
This hand, Wen Jianyan won seventy million.
He flipped open his hole cards—a pair.
However, No. 8 had Three‑of‑a‑Kind, three cards of the same rank formed by his hole cards and the board.
Which meant that, this time, he had actually managed to pull off another successful bluff.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Ahhh, I can finally breathe again!]
[…Didn’t expect you to actually get lucky again, kid.]
[But this hand didn’t get to the fifth community card, so the bets didn’t fully build up; even though the anchor bluffed successfully, he only made seventy million from it—kinda a pity.]
There were still five hands left in this second set of Texas Hold’em.
Wen Jianyan put the chips back into the chip box that was now already half‑empty, then looked toward Figaro.
“Let’s keep going.”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…]
Figaro sighed and dutifully began sorting the cards.
On the vast second floor of the casino, the only sound was the soft rustling of cards flipping and rubbing against each other.
No. 8 sat on one side of the table, his gaze resting on Wen Jianyan opposite him, that baby face wearing a seemingly innocent smile.
Even though he had just been fooled again by exactly the same trick in the previous hand, he no longer showed the stunned reaction from last time and instead appeared very calm.
After all, he was already far in the lead, and that seventy million was nothing more than drizzle to him.
What was more… no matter how you looked at it, this seventy million was lost very much “worth it.”
Every skillful gambler is very good at managing expressions.
They keep joy and anger hidden, never letting their emotions leak onto their faces.
However…
No matter how brilliant the gambler, they are still human.
As long as they are human, when faced with choices of life and death, with stakes too great to bear and prices too high to afford, they will inevitably produce physiological reactions, and these traces cannot be completely erased.
It might be a tiny twitch at the corner of the eye, the rolling frequency of the Adam’s apple, or the seep of sweat across the forehead.
It might also be an unintentional little movement.
No. 8’s gaze dropped and, without leaving any visible trace, landed on Wen Jianyan’s fingers resting on the table.
Wen Jianyan had a pair of very beautiful hands.
The lines were clean and elegant, with clear joints; faint blue veins could be seen beneath the pale skin, rising and falling with his movements.
And at the base of his ring finger coiled a silver snake ring.
The silver snake curved upon itself, head joining tail, and the eyes of the snake gleamed with scarlet light, looking strange and sinister.
Back when they were playing Gomoku, No. 8 had already noticed that whenever the other party was uncertain about a move, he would subconsciously stroke and rotate this snake ring.
Later, when Wen Jianyan bluffed for the first time, he made a similar motion.
At that time, No. 8 had already noticed this tell, so in the rounds afterward, he began to discreetly observe the other’s reactions.
He intentionally and systematically chose to “bet,” “raise,” “check,” and “fold” in order to test his guess—but unfortunately, the opponent was just as shrewd and controlled, and throughout the entire game he almost never exposed any other tells.
Until just now.
In that seventy‑million hand, the other party once again made the same unconscious little movement.
The hole cards were dealt and the first betting round began.
Wen Jianyan pinched five chips from the table and tossed them down with a sharp clink.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Good lord… opening this hand with fifty million?]
[I’m going numb.]
[Good good good, only when they play big is it fun to watch, those few tiny hands before were making me sleepy, finally something interesting again!]
No. 8: “Call.”
Figaro gave the two of them a look, then dealt three community cards.
One Nine of Diamonds, one Queen of Diamonds, one King of Spades.
No. 8 threw three chips onto the table.
Wen Jianyan lifted his eyes to look at him.
“I’ll call your three.”
“—And raise.”
The young man’s slender fingers grabbed a handful of chips and then tossed them onto the blood‑red felt one by one.
One, two, three… ten.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[?!]
[!!!]
[One hundred million????]
[No way? It’s already the third time, do you really think you can fool him again this time??]
[Kid, stop using the same old trick, I’m begging you, the sweat on my back is about to pour down!]
No. 8’s gaze lingered on Wen Jianyan for a fleeting moment, so subtle it was almost unnoticeable.
Even Wen Jianyan himself hadn’t realized that at this very moment… the pad of No. 8’s left index finger was lightly touching the silver snake ring at the base of his right finger.
He smiled, revealing two sharp, pointed canine teeth.
“Re‑raise.”
Eleven blood‑red chips were stacked onto the table.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…]
[No way?]
[Damn, how much money is on the table now?]
[Three hundred and seventy million…]
[Was there ever a time they played this big before?]
[No no, absolutely not.]
Figaro dealt the fourth community card.
It was a King of Diamonds.
This time, it was Wen Jianyan’s turn to bet.
He turned his head and glanced at the chips by his side, counted out ten again, and pushed them forward.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…Four hundred and seventy million.]
No. 8: “Call.”
He also counted out ten chips and tossed them onto the table.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…Five hundred and seventy million.]
“And raise.”
No. 8 tossed out five more chips.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…Six—six hundred and twenty million.]
No one had expected the stakes in this hand to suddenly soar so high.
On the sidelines, Mesvis’s face lit with excitement, his upper body leaning slightly forward as his gaze locked tightly onto the edge of the table, his lips slightly parted.
The density of the air seemed to have been compressed to the extreme, like the inside of a powder keg on the verge of exploding; even doing nothing and just standing there made it hard to breathe.
Under such tension, even Figaro, who was acting as the dealer, felt somewhat ill at ease.
He glanced at Wen Jianyan, then at No. 8, and carefully dealt the fifth community card.
It was a Ten of Diamonds.
Wen Jianyan sat by the table without moving, letting the rising tension ferment in the air; he stared at No. 8 sitting across from him, his amber eyes slightly narrowed.
At last, when the atmosphere had been stretched to its limit, he gave a soft laugh, reached out to scoop up the chip box at his side, and gave it a light push forward.
Crash.
Blood‑red chips spilled down the felt of the table, as if they had been immersed in thick, sticky blood.
“All‑in.”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[What?]
[…What did he just say?]
[Ahhh I’m freaking out, I’m really freaking out, I’m seriously freaking out right now.]
[All‑in? All‑in??? How dare you? How can you dare this!!!]
[Help, help, I can’t breathe, is it just me or does the air in this live room feel so thin?]
As soon as the words left his mouth, Figaro, the dealer, couldn’t help but pause mid‑breath.
He turned his head in shock to look at Wen Jianyan, his fox‑like eyes, usually long and narrow, now widened, as if he could hardly believe his ears.
Even Mesvis, not far away, showed a look of surprise, his back slowly straightening.
No. 8 was stunned.
He jerked his head up and stared at Wen Jianyan.
Across the table, the young man wore a faint smile, his thin lips curved slightly; the overly bright lights were reflected in his eyes, turning them a pale, candy‑like color, and his face was like a motionless mask, giving away nothing.
No. 8 subconsciously lowered his gaze to Wen Jianyan’s hands resting on the table.
At this moment, the other was unhurriedly turning the Ouroboros ring on his finger, the cold, bright silver band gleaming, a pair of blood‑red snake eyes flashing in the setting.
According to the experience he had gathered before, the other party was one hundred percent bluffing.
But… all‑in?
To bluff with his entire fortune, plus that 1.5 billion gambling debt?
How could he dare?
“…!”
Wait.
All of a sudden, as if he had realized something, No. 8’s pupils shrank sharply.
No.
That’s not right!
A gambler whose expression management was that perfect and whose technique was that polished—how could he possibly reveal such an obvious tell as “ring‑twisting”?
Unless… this was bait!
This was a flaw his opponent deliberately displayed from the very beginning, a poisonous lure laid out long ago, just to make him come to the wrong conclusion of “this is a bluff” in the decisive hand.
In other words, everything had to be read in reverse.
The other side was actually holding a very strong hand and was just tricking him into putting in more chips.
If it was like that, then right now he had to stop his losses immediately.
Otherwise, once this one hand ended, the other party would win the 1.5 billion chips needed to leave the table.
…Fold.
No. 8’s fingers tightened unconsciously around the cards, the once‑stiff cardstock wrinkling under his force.
He clenched his jaw, but that one word “fold” refused to leave his mouth.
—But what if?
His opponent knew his ability and must also know how quickly he could spot tells.
Then could this be a reverse routine instead?
Maybe the other side had used his prior experience to plant the notion “ring‑twisting doesn’t mean bluffing” in his mind, all for the sake of this last hand?
After all, the other really was crazy enough.
Cold sweat seeped across No. 8’s forehead; he lowered his eyes to hide the turmoil within them.
“What’s going on?”
Not far away, the blonde, blue‑eyed female dealer narrowed her eyes, her expression tinged with confusion.
She lowered her voice and asked, “He’s never hesitated this long before.”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…]
The imposing middle‑aged dealer—No. 3, the highest‑ranked among all the dealers present—watched the table in silence.
On the table, countless blood‑red chips towered like a small mountain.
The air around them seemed to have been compressed into something heavy and solid, like an inescapable, viscous bog that sucked every last wisp of air out of people’s lungs; even just looking at the scene was enough to make one’s heart stop and palms sweat.
On one side of the table sat No. 8, his face expressionless and his eyes downcast as he tried to bury all his emotions.
But for the other core dealers, who were already familiar with his methods and habits, such concealment was useless.
He was nervous, and he was hesitating.
On the other side of the table, the gambler who had just gone all‑in with all his chips seemed very calm and at ease.
A faint smile played around his lips, his slender fingers interlaced and idly turning the silver snake ring at the base of his finger.
…What a madman.
A madman whose mind was terrifyingly meticulous.
No. 3 spoke slowly.
“No. 8 is going to lose.”
What?
The blonde and blue‑eyed No. 6 blinked in surprise and turned to look at No. 3.
“But…”
“There’s no suspense anymore,” No. 3 shook his head, cutting off what No. 6 had been about to say.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, a flash of sharp light crossing them.
“Haven’t you realized it yet? No. 8 has already been drawn into the other side’s logic and patterns of thought.”
Once doubt appears, it can never be suppressed again.
Once you’re swept into this whirlpool of doubt, you fall into a self‑sustaining paradox of doubting everything and questioning everything; and right now, No. 8 had already been dragged into this paranoid state by his opponent.
He had begun to lose his original calm and restraint, to question every decision he had made up to now and to suspect every move the other side made… this situation was extremely dangerous and there was almost no way out.
“And…” No. 3 said slowly, “the other is a genius at creating pressure.”
As a core dealer, there was a reason No. 8 could be dragged into such a vortex.
The success of one bluff might seem, in other people’s eyes, like nothing but a lucky fluke brought on by momentary madness, but for the other party it was only the beginning.
This was not just about “creating a flaw,” but more about planting the subconscious notion of “there won’t be a next time” in No. 8’s heart.
However… to prove the success of his theory, there had to be a next time.
With this thought in mind, No. 8 would walk into the trap of his own accord.
But what he didn’t realize was that the smooth success of two bluffs created a level of psychological pressure that two simple consecutive wins could never achieve.
And this third all‑in was the complete perfection of the psychological snare his opponent had constructed.
At this point, every bomb that had been planted previously detonated at once, pushing the opponent’s psychological pressure to a horrifying peak that no one could withstand.
Under such intense pressure, even if No. 8 didn’t want to fall into a state of infinite doubt, it was no longer up to him.
This was a set of tightly interlocking, extremely terrifying psychological combos, enough to shatter anyone’s mental defenses.
Under circumstances like this, No. 8’s reaction could even be called outstanding.
If anyone other than a core dealer had been sitting opposite Wen Jianyan, they would probably already be drenched in sweat, face deathly pale, and completely unable to cope.
No. 6, however, shook her head.
“He may very well be a master of psychological warfare, but that doesn’t mean he’s guaranteed to win.”
This was the charm of Texas Hold’em.
There were too many uncontrollable variables; even if you’d severely disrupted your opponent’s willpower, at the table, luck would still meddle in the outcome.
If No. 8 didn’t call, the other side would sweep all the chips on the table into his own pocket, but if he did call… then his chance of winning wouldn’t drop to zero.
What’s more, according to No. 6’s observations… that guy’s luck wasn’t exactly great.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…]
No. 3 didn’t answer.
At the table, after a long, suffocating silence, No. 8 finally raised his eyes.
He clenched his teeth, and his voice sounded like it was being forced out through the cracks between them.
“…I call.”
Crash!!
Blood‑red chips were shoved across the felt in one motion; after a brief, swaying pause, they toppled and slid down like slabs of bone stained with blood, each piece representing a price so steep it took your breath away.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Ahhhhhhh!!]
[Help, help, help, I don’t dare look, I don’t dare look!]
[Ahhhh I’ve really shut my eyes now; wasn’t this supposed to be a leisurely, happy anchor vacation reality show? Why does it feel scarier than a serious dungeon?!]
[We’re done, we’re done, we’re so done, I seriously can’t breathe, someone help!!!]
“Hiss…”
Even Figaro, who stood to the side, couldn’t help taking in a sharp breath of cold air at the sight of the chips on the table.
He quietly took a step back, trying to distance himself from the center of this whirlpool of tension.
“Alright, time for the showdown.”
No. 8 slowly raised his eyes; unconsciously, the whites of them were beginning to fill with blood, and under the mounting pressure, his forehead was now beaded with sweat.
He lifted his hand and slowly turned over the two hole cards in front of him.
One King of Hearts, one King of Spades.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Holy—!!! Double K hole cards!]
[Ahhhh, Four of a Kind!]
[Quads, it’s Quads!]
[Such a monster hand, no wonder he dared to go all‑in!!!]
[…]
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes and looked at the cards in front of him.
He slowly lifted one card.
Ten of Diamonds.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[…]
[We’re done.]
[We’re done.]
His fingertip pressed lightly on the other card and slowly slid the top card aside, revealing the second card beneath.
Jack of Diamonds.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[?]
[???]
[Wait, did I see that wrong?]
[What the hell is that?]
On the table, the Nine of Diamonds, Ten of Diamonds, Jack of Diamonds, Queen of Diamonds, and King of Diamonds lay neatly in a row.
This was actually—
“…A Straight Flush.”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Am I hallucinating? I feel completely out of it… is that a Straight Flush in the anchor’s hand?]
[Holy shit ahhhhhhh, it really is a Straight Flush!!!]
[Ahhh you’re crazy, I’m crazy, who isn’t crazy?!]
[Straight Flush, for fuck’s sake!!! Holy shit!!!]
[…]
The entire casino fell into deathly silence.
No. 8 stared fixedly at the chips on the table; his forehead was damp, and for the first time his face was utterly blank, as if he still hadn’t processed it.
He… had lost?
He had actually lost on this final all‑in hand?
How was that possible?
The silence stretched on.
Until—
“Ha, haha…”
Not far behind them, a stifled laugh sounded, then finally burst free and turned into a hair‑raising peal of mad laughter.
“Hahahahahaha!!!”
Mesvis slouched against the armrest of his chair, laughing wildly and without restraint, as if he were extremely pleased with the game he’d just seen.
His laughter echoed across the spacious second floor of the casino, sending chills up people’s backs.
At last, no one knew how much time had passed before Mesvis finally stopped, gasping a little for breath, the smile still not entirely faded from his face.
He clapped his hands and slowly rose from his seat.
“Wonderful… truly wonderful.”
He walked over, his right hand coming to rest slowly on No. 8’s shoulder.
The huge ring on his thumb reflected a strange, emerald‑green light under the lamps.
The moment he was touched, No. 8 shuddered and his face instantly turned ashen.
He lowered his head, his eyes filled with uncontrollable fear.
“I—I’m sorry—”
“No need to apologize.”
Mesvis smiled and patted his shoulder, and with each pat, No. 8’s body trembled.
“Do you know where you lost?”
No. 8 buried his head even lower, not daring to answer.
“It was in the Gomoku at the beginning.”
Mesvis kept his hand on No. 8’s shoulder, but those eyes, almost lacking in visible whites, were fixed squarely on Wen Jianyan across the table.
The corners of his mouth curled higher and higher, and the smile on his face grew even more delighted and unrestrained.
“If I remember correctly, in the second and fourth games of Gomoku, you could have won… but you lost instead.”
Although Gomoku had been proposed by Wen Jianyan, in those ten games of Gomoku he had lost far more often than he had won.
But would an ordinary person really propose a game he was completely bad at as a gambling content?
Impossible.
Unless… he was too good at it.
“You wanted to see how No. 8 would bet, didn’t you?”
During those ten games of Gomoku, Wen Jianyan deliberately controlled how often he won, just to observe the other side’s “chess style,” that is, his fixed patterns of thought.
After a loss, would he increase his bet and go all out, or lower his bet and play it safe?
After a win, would he press his advantage or switch to a more conservative stance?
And after those ten games of Gomoku, Wen Jianyan changed the game and, based on what he had observed, began to plant psychological traps for his opponent, guiding him along the momentum of events and silently applying pressure, until he step by step lured the other into his snare.
Once he was sure he’d caught a guaranteed winning hand, he was like a seasoned hunter…
Wen Jianyan did not hesitate in the slightest to close the net.
After all, his opponent’s possible mental reactions and every move he would make next had already formed under his guidance; everything was already within his expectations.
A truly terrifying ability.
“You’re not going to go back on your word, are you?”
Wen Jianyan stared straight at Mesvis and asked.
“Of course not.”
Mesvis clapped his hands, and two attendants immediately stepped out from behind.
They were holding transparent chip boxes in their hands and began quickly gathering and sorting all the chips on the table.
Even though he had just lost 1.5 billion in chips, the smile on Mesvis’s face did not change in the slightest.
“Congratulations, you won.”
Only then did Wen Jianyan release a long breath.
From the moment he’d walked up to the second floor until now, his nerves had been taut, but at this instant they finally began to slowly relax.
He braced a hand on the table and stood up, but no sooner had he left the chair than his knees gave out, and his whole body lurched forward; he nearly fell flat on the floor, but luckily Figaro, next to him, was quick enough to catch him.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Figaro looked at him in astonishment.
“…My legs went weak.”
Wen Jianyan replied feebly.
The young man who just moments ago had faced a 1.5‑billion high‑stakes gamble without batting an eye now had a deathly pale face; sweat beaded his forehead, and his pupils trembled slightly like a startled bird.
Wen Jianyan used one hand to lean against Figaro and the other to press his own stomach, his features twisted in pain.
“I feel like throwing up.”
Figaro: “…”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Ahahahahahahahaha, his true form is exposed now, huh!!]
[I’m dying of laughter, Figaro’s expression is so stiff—guess he’s never seen anyone’s expression change that fast before??]
Very soon, the attendants had finished tidying up all the chips on the table.
One of them stepped forward and handed the chip box, filled to the brim, to Wen Jianyan.
“Thank you.”
With Figaro’s support, Wen Jianyan straightened up and took the chip box.
But before he could do anything else, he felt a faint tremor from beneath his feet.
“…?”
Wen Jianyan paused for a moment.
It felt as if some invisible earthquake had begun deep within the steel hull, a hundred meters down, spreading and swelling until it reached his feet.
“BOOM!!!!!!!”
A terrifying sound followed a moment later, detonating inside the entire ship.
It was as if the huge vessel had smashed into an iceberg; the floor shook, the chandeliers overhead swung back and forth, playing cards and wine glasses scattered across the floor.
Through the thick glass of the second floor, they could see countless gamblers down below thrown off balance and sent into a panic by the sudden jolt.
Wen Jianyan had to press hard against the table just to barely remain standing.
In the midst of the shaking, he caught sight of Mesvis out of the corner of his eye.
The man stood off to the side, seemingly not surprised at all by what was happening around him; in fact, there was even a faintly sinister smile at the corner of his lips.
In that instant, it was as if a bolt of lightning split the darkness in his mind.
A terrifying thought flashed through Wen Jianyan’s head.
“Hey, you—”
Wen Jianyan shook off Figaro’s supporting arm.
Ignoring whatever Figaro was saying behind him, he stumbled and rushed toward the nearby porthole that looked out onto the sea.
Through the glass, he saw the pitch‑black ocean, thick as spilled ink.
And in that deep black water floated one pale corpse after another.
They lay quietly beneath the surface, their bloodless, water‑swollen faces hidden in the dark; as far as the eye could see, there were too many to count—maybe hundreds, maybe thousands, maybe millions.
Packed so densely together that it made one’s entire body go cold and every hair stand on end.
A layer of cold sweat broke out across Wen Jianyan’s back.
As if to confirm his suspicion, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly rang in his ears without the slightest warning.
“Lucky Cruise Ship instance now open, all anchors please prepare.”
【10, 9, 8……】
In the frigid countdown, Wen Jianyan slowly turned his head and looked toward Mesvis.
At some unknown point, Mesvis had already sat back down in his original seat.
He crossed his legs, a smile on his face, looking utterly relaxed amid the violent shaking that felt like the earth itself was moving.
“I told you, I won’t go back on my word.”
“The 1.5 billion is yours; what’s yours is yours.”
The smile at the corner of Mesvis’s lips deepened.
“But there is one little place where you seem to have a tiny misunderstanding.”
“It’s true that the ship’s mileage is related to the gambling capital that the gamblers lose, but there’s a subtle, tiny difference between these two concepts—because what it really tracks is all of the house’s income.”
“The amount you lose is indeed one part of our income, but besides that… from the amount you win, the casino also takes a percentage—I believe that’s called the rake in real‑world casinos.”
“In other words, a portion of the funds that the gamblers win is also counted toward the ship’s mileage.”
On the red table, there is no such thing as banker or player.
So although Wen Jianyan had taken away 1.5 billion, what he took did not come from the casino’s own account.
But the rake belongs to the house.
Mesvis tapped idly on the surface of the sofa with his fingers, his gaze drifting toward Figaro.
“Didn’t your partner tell you?” he said with a smile.
“At the red table, our rake percentage is much higher than on the first floor of the casino—it’s twenty percent.”
In the game just now, Wen Jianyan had won a terrifying 1.5 billion, but three hundred million of that, taken as the casino’s rake, had already been counted into the casino’s revenue and turned into the ship’s mileage.
“So, the more you earn, the more we earn.”
“And the farther the ship travels.”
Mesvis’s eyes were shrouded in terrifying darkness, and the corners of his mouth slowly curled upward.
“Win‑win.”
This was a casino.
For those trapped inside, no matter what methods they used, what game they chose, or what goal they pursued, they would always be the losers.
Because in this place, the house always wins.
That is the iron rule.
