The bright room was filled with a thick peculiar smell, a mixture of perfume, cigarettes, and something like Kleve.

Saying it's fragrant, it's actually not pleasant to the nose.

But to call it stinky, you can still smell some fragrance in it.

Without realizing it, the sky had become a bit dim. Richard was not as triumphant and unbeatable as he expected. Instead, his brows were tightly knitted.

The chip box beside him had already emptied three times. This was his fourth time exchanging chips, each time for two thousand bucks. In a short time, he had exchanged eight thousand bucks in chips, and the ones in the box before him didn't seem like they would last long.

He glanced down at the three cards in front of him. The smoke from the cigarette hanging from his mouth was stinging his eyes. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, swallowed, and his throat hurt a little.

He took a gulp from his glass and pressed the glass back down on the cards.

"Mr. Richard, not going to have a look?" a gentlemanly man casually asked. He picked up the three cards before him, squeezed them in his hand, took a quick peek, and then placed them back in front of himself, and tossed a few black chips onto the betting area, "Raise, two hundred."

"I trust my eyes more than my instincts!" He seemed to kindly remind Richard, but Richard treated this as a trap, a kind of offensive strategy.

In such a game, looking at the cards was not a smart move. Most of the card duels were limited to some "small cards."

In a whole deck, getting three cards that could form a big hand wasn't easy. Most of the time, it was small cards.

Small cards meant that looking at them would bring immense pressure, even if your opponent's hand was smaller, you'd still feel timid and afraid.

The saying "ignorance is bliss" fits perfectly here, because if you don't look at your cards and firmly believe you'll get a big hand, that pressure gets passed to those who do look at their cards.

Sometimes, without even needing to reveal the cards, just following could make those who looked at their cards voluntarily "fold."

Folding was a form of evasion; it meant the player abandoned their hand, choosing to concede the round, and the chips they had previously placed in the pot naturally ceased to concern them.

The round went full circle, some folded, some followed, and the turn came back to Richard.

He pursed his lips, tossed a hundred-dollar chip onto the table. "Call…"

"Looks like our friend is quite confident!" A player sitting across from Richard joked with a smile.

Round after round of betting, from five people down to four, then three...

"Bring me a box of chips…" It was Richard's turn to bet again. He touched the chip box next to him and found it was empty, forcing him to take out a check, sign another one, and hand it to the waiter.

The waiter quickly brought him a whole box of chips, two thousand bucks. These round small discs represented wealth here, isn't that amazing?

He hesitated for a few seconds, took out a thousand bucks in chips, and tossed them into the betting area, with a hint of displeased sarcasm, "A hundred at a time is too slow, a thousand bucks."

With three people in the game, it could never end. Unsure if Richard's taunt sparked action, or if his reckless betting without even looking at his cards made people hesitant, the player next to him threw down his cards.

This meant he had previously staked over a thousand bucks in vain. Shaking his head, he threw his cards into the discard pile and sighed.

The opponent sitting across from Richard glanced at the pile of chips like a small mountain on the table, and quietly said, "Too scary, I think it should end here!"

He pushed his chips into the betting area, ending the game. He used more chips to finish this match; Richard didn't need to invest any more chips, they just had to compare their hands to decide the outcome.

Sitting across from Richard, the gentleman casually flipped over his cards, "One pair, Mr. Richard!"

"Now it's time for our 'blind man' to perform!"

The 'blind man' refers to Richard's covered cards; revealed cards represent normal people, symbolizing visibility, while those unseen cards are like blind men, seeing nothing.

Richard held his cards in both hands, elbows on the table, head down, leaning close to do so, and flipped over the first card, the second card, and then the third card!

A classic swear word burst from his mouth, and he forcefully slapped the cards on the table. He had a pair too, but it was the smallest pair, and he lost.

In just over three hours this afternoon, he lost nine thousand bucks, setting a new record for his losing speed. Frustrated, he wanted to light a cigarette, only to find nothing left in the pack.

"Give me a pack of cigarettes!" He crushed the empty pack in his hand into a ball and threw it to the ground violently, losing was making him very irritated.

As the waiter prepared to fetch him cigarettes, he stopped them again, "Never mind, I'll buy them myself, put my chips away."

They didn't sell any cigarettes here, nor alcohol, neither were for sale, but offered by the house's owner for guests to enjoy and sample.

The Federation has strict standards and regulations; only establishments with licenses to sell tobacco and alcohol can sell these products, and the tax rates for these establishments are slightly higher than those for ordinary businesses.

Richard pushed the door open and stepped out, the hot wind outside making him calm down a bit. He suddenly realized he had been too impulsive.

It was certain, he was too impulsive. Even if he lost, if he had checked the cards a few rounds earlier, he wouldn't have lost this much.

He was influenced by those bastards in consecutive losses; in the final round, he wasn't playing cards, he was venting, gambling that his luck was better than the others'.

But just like the gentleman opposite him said, a person with sight is never afraid of a blind one, so his loss was inevitable.

"A pack of cigarettes...", he walked into a shop and pointed at his preferred brand, paid for it, and lit one at the shop door.

After a puff, an annoying sense of agitation slowly emanated from his chest. He only took two drags before throwing the cigarette on the ground.

On his way back, he lit another one, his hand trembling as he lit it; he had lost too much today.

Ever since he became addicted to this gambling game, his speed of earning money was never as fast as losing it, yet even knowing this loss might not be normal, he lacked clear evidence to prove someone tampered with the cards.

Sometimes he would win, and win big money, one or two ten thousand, even two or three ten thousand he had won!

But, recently, he had been losing too much, so much that he had to embezzle a portion of the company's profits to cover his financial shortfall, just a part of it.

For someone desperate for money, exploiting loopholes to make money was not difficult, and this wasn't his first time. Actually, back in Curilan City, he had already tried to carry out some schemes under Lynch's nose.

His method was very simple; the company auction would have a printed catalog, with some auction items and starting prices listed.

He would identify clients who had a strong need for certain items but couldn't pay in the short term, and conduct secret transactions with them.

He would find a way to get those items out, then sell them to these clients, gaining benefits from it, and afterward use an extremely low price to procure a similar inferior product, and have one of his people bid on it, then return it for quality reasons.

This technique was very discreet; even if investigated, it would just seem like some items were returned due to quality issues, no one would suspect there were other matters involved.

As for directly manipulating accounts, Richard had considered but ultimately abandoned it, because such a method was too difficult.

Every city has at least two accountants, both under Vera's command; they are difficult to buy off simultaneously, compared to doing tricks on the accounts, his method was more feasible.

But this method wasn't flawless either; too many valuable items not selling due to quality issues and returning to the headquarters would certainly arouse suspicion from the headquarters.

If someone from over there comes to investigate thoroughly, Richard as the manager here wouldn't be able to escape, so he must dispose of those counterfeit products.

The only way to deal with them was to lower the price, which led Vera to find some problems; each time the capital's auction didn't have many leftover items, but the selling prices often didn't match the evaluated prices from the headquarters, frequently showing unexpected reductions.

To say there were obvious loopholes, none could be found; every item's starting bid and sales price were clear, aside from overall revenue decreasing, there were no apparent major issues.

This technique, when executed before, had no issues whatsoever; during the early days of second-hand auctions, each week's transaction amount could continuously set new records.

But as the auctions continued over time, the heat gradually cooled down; before, missing ten to twenty thousand in a week wasn't noticeable, thirty-one thousand and thirty-three thousand didn't seem much different.

Now the transaction amount has decreased, losing too much makes it easily noticeable. He had already skimmed fourteen thousand off last week; if he makes another move, it's likely to be discovered.

But he had no choice but to do so; his mansion, luxury car, those he kept, socializing with some local celebrities and socialites, maintaining such a glamorous lifestyle always depended on money, and coupled with his current gambling addiction...

Stepping back into the room, Richard made a decision that today would be... the last time this month gambling, regardless of win or lose, if he loses another five thousand, he would leave immediately, he had made up his mind.

He walked into the room, surprised to find a stranger's back sitting at the table, the person facing away from him.

He wasn't very fond of such individuals joining the game halfway through; it would make his luck worse, such as the cards initially intended for him being dealt to someone else, lowering his chances of winning.

But this wasn't his establishment, he had no right to demand how people should act; the only option was to leave, he'd already lost enough.

Just as he asked the waiter for the bill, the person at the table opposite suddenly asked, "Leaving without playing a round?"

Hearing this voice, Richard froze on the spot.

It was...

Lynch!

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