Urban: Super God-Ring System

C19 – Testing

“I’m done for!”

The house was on the verge of tears. They were certain Wen Huaimu had cheated, but despite years of honing their keen eye, they couldn’t spot a single clue. It was truly astonishing.

Now, the most embarrassing part was that the house didn’t know what to do next. They were on the hook for 400,000 yuan, and if they allowed someone like Wen Huaimu to stay at their table, they might lose their entire stake.

But in the casino, every patron is treated like a deity.

“Come on, pay up. I’m ready to go big on the next hand.” He gave the house a sly wink, draining the color from their face.

Could it be 800,000 yuan next?

Please, let this jinx leave.

Wen Huaimu’s actions had piqued the interest of the other gamblers as well. They all watched him with anticipation.

“Brother, you’re on a lucky streak. How about we take this to the next level upstairs?”

Just then, a voice with a deep, masculine allure filled the air. A suave middle-aged man in a suit approached with a congenial smile.

Wen Huaimu gave the man a once-over and grinned, “No thanks, I’m quite fond of it here.”

Miss Zhuang, taken aback by Wen Huaimu’s juvenile tone, let out a chuckle. She playfully tapped his chest, “Manager Sima is extending a courtesy to you. Don’t be difficult.”

Wen Huaimu exhaled a resigned sigh and turned to Miss Zhuang, “Alright, since you insist, shall we really head upstairs for a game?”

“Upstairs?” Miss Zhuang gave Wen Huaimu a peculiar look. “With your luck, of course, we should play upstairs. I’d regret it if we didn’t.”

Wen Huaimu chuckled, “Guess I’m just lucky.”

“Well then, since you’re game, let’s head up. There’s a high-stakes table waiting tonight.” The dapper middle-aged man gave Miss Zhuang a deferential nod, then instructed a nearby waitress, “Please retrieve 50 million purple coins for Miss Zhuang at the front desk.”

“Fifty million!”

Wen Huaimu was so startled he nearly leaped out of his skin. But catching Miss Zhuang’s odd glance, he sheepishly touched his nose, his mind growing heavy with the gravity of the situation.

The enigmatic eighth floor of Nighty Night required a staggering 50 million just to gain entry, hinting at the spectacular drama that was about to unfold.

Miss Zhuang, with a hint of reluctance, left the gambling table and, clutching Wen Huaimu’s arm, followed Manager Sima into the private elevator ascending to the eighth floor.

Upon arrival, the vastness of the space was immediately apparent, designed with a grandeur that was both intimidating and modern. The entire floor was dominated by a single hall, encircled by numerous small tables and chairs. At the center stood a massive, round table.

Currently, the table hosted a diverse group of seven or eight individuals, ranging from a wealthy elder gentleman to a stern middle-aged woman with gold-rimmed glasses, and an overly youthful man. Each person was surrounded by a sea of purple coins.

Wen Huaimu was momentarily at a loss for words. It seemed that kidnapping this affluent assembly would be more lucrative than a bank heist.

The trio’s entrance didn’t go unnoticed by those seated at the long table. Merely being present was a testament to one’s status.

The game had been in progress for some time, yet their ability to join at this juncture spoke volumes about their not-so-simple identities.

The sight of Wen Huaimu didn’t raise any eyebrows; the era was rife with wealthy young heirs. However, Miss Zhuang’s presence stirred a palpable excitement among a few.

Two well-dressed young men, exuding confidence and the kind of charm that appealed to the masses, were particularly taken with her.

Upon laying eyes on Miss Zhuang, the yellow-haired youth’s expression brightened, and he couldn’t contain his admiration. “I’ve never encountered such beauty in Anbubury!” he marveled.

His companion, a short-haired youth leaning close by, cast a dismissive glance at him and retorted, “Mr. Zhen, do you even realize how many beauties Anbubury boasts?”

“Some women simply can’t conceal their radiance,” Mr. Zhen asserted confidently. “I assure you, she’s not from Anbubury, or she would’ve been mine by now.” His gaze towards Miss Zhuang shimmered with an indefinable light, betraying his keen interest.

“Your women are just for show, Mr. Zhen. As a friend of many years, I must remind you that the people who frequent this place are no ordinary crowd. Be careful not to stir up trouble,” the short-haired young man said coolly.

At that moment, Wen Huaimu was escorting Miss Zhuang to the reception desk, his arm around her waist.

Manager Sima offered a warm smile and a subtle nod. “Ladies and gentlemen, our esteemed guest from Hong Kong comes highly recommended by our top boss. I trust they’ll enjoy mingling with you all.”

As Manager Sima concluded his introduction, the room buzzed with heightened curiosity. Hong Kong was a world away from Anbubury. Not even Hong Kong’s wealthiest tycoons could wield influence here, let alone sway the enigmatic owner of Nighty Night.

The only logical explanation was that these newcomers hailed from one of Hong Kong’s secretive, influential families. Such families were an open secret; many powerful figures had their roots in these clandestine circles, drawing on their family’s clout to command respect. Thus, while the crowd regarded Wen Huaimu and Miss Zhuang with intrigue, they held their tongues to avoid any unintended slights.

The short-haired young man shot Mr. Zhen a knowing look, as if to say he had anticipated this all along.

Yet, he had underestimated Mr. Zhen’s appetites. Mr. Zhen seemed utterly disinterested in Manager Sima’s words; his mind was preoccupied with other matters.

“Esteemed elders, I’m merely here to enjoy the company of my sister,” Wen Huaimu said with an easy smile, betraying no hint of intimidation. Miss Zhuang, standing close by, flashed an enigmatic smile, a glint of calculation in her eyes.

Unbeknownst to her, that smile had ensnared someone’s very soul, leaving an indelible mark.

Manager Sima, having settled Miss Zhuang into her seat, naturally expected Wen Huaimu to attend to her. Given his fortuitous streak, she saw no reason to part ways with him.

Aware of Wen Huaimu’s true standing, Manager Sima was now wary of underestimating him. A few telling rounds at the lower-level gambling tables had revealed that Wen Huaimu was far from ordinary.

Manager Sima exited the room, his smile lingering as the dice on the gambling table sprang back into action.

Several hands into the game, Wen Huaimu surveyed the cards spread before him. Channeling his psychic force, he swept his gaze across the table. A subtle smile crept onto his lips, yet his eyes remained intently fixed on Mr. Zhen.