"I'm guessing...you're holding the Ten of Hearts. Am I right?"
Louis Walker's face fell immediately.
This time, he'd chosen the deck himself, shuffled it personally, and picked the card on his own. John hadn't even touched it. He was absolutely certain there was no way John could have peeked. Yet, John had guessed it perfectly. Even though Louis couldn't bring himself to believe it, there was no way he could accuse John of cheating now.
"Alright, kid. It seems I've met my match today. I concede!"
After a brief pause, Louis Walker suddenly burst out laughing, took out a hundred-thousand-dollar chip, and tossed it onto the table. He realized the situation clearly: the first loss cost him ten thousand, this second one another hundred thousand—basically everything he'd won today. If he continued, he'd lose everything he had. The smart move was to back down now and find a way to win it back later. After all, daring to take Louis Walker's money—this kid must have a death wish.
Of course, John could clearly sense the fat man's thoughts.
John reached out and took only fifty thousand of the chips from the table, smiling graciously, "How could I possibly take it all from you? You've been generous today, brother—I'll just take half." He stood up to leave.
Louis Walker frowned. "What's the meaning of this? Do you look down on me, Louis Walker? Think I can't afford to lose?"
You damn hypocrite! You're secretly thrilled I took only half, yet you're putting on airs like this! John cursed inwardly, though his face remained sincere.
"Brother Louis, I'm just here today for some entertainment. Getting to know someone as generous as you is already my good fortune. If you're willing, I'd rather we be friends. Talking too much about money could ruin a friendship."
Louis Walker paused briefly, realizing John was offering him a graceful way out. He laughed heartily, exchanged a few polite words, and let the matter drop. Internally, however, he smugly thought about how he'd just secured tonight's budget for women and drinks.
John exchanged the chips for cash, totaling sixty thousand dollars, and sighed inwardly. Damn, sixty thousand bucks! Back in the old days, I'd have needed six years to save this much. And now, it took just a few minutes.
Feeling proud for a brief moment, John turned to leave when a voice spoke from behind him. "Impressive skills, kid. Interested in a round or two with me? Same rules you just used."
John turned quickly, startled to find a man in black standing silently behind him.
He was genuinely shocked. This person had approached him unnoticed, and more alarmingly, John couldn't see through this man's thoughts at all.
A true master, John thought cautiously. Probably the casino's hidden expert.
He was right. Every major casino employed gambling experts to handle tricky guests and maintain order. The man had watched John carefully through the monitors earlier but couldn't detect how John guessed the cards. To get answers, he decided to investigate personally.
John had not expected that his brief performance would attract such an intimidating figure. He realized he was better off not provoking someone whose mind he couldn't read.
"Sorry, I have things to do today. Maybe another time," John replied casually.
"If you can guess my card, I'll pay you half a million," the man said calmly, eager enough to uncover John's secrets that he was willing to spend big.
Provoking someone like this wasn't gambling—it was suicide.
John laughed lightly. "Forget it. I only came here for some excitement, and I've had enough for today."
With a graceful turn, he walked out smoothly, leaving the mysterious man behind.
After exiting the casino, John headed straight to the bar on the second floor, where he and his ex-girlfriend had previously worked. Now Emily Park was the manager there.
"What would you like, sir—oh my god, John Knight?" exclaimed the attractive bartender behind the counter before she could finish her sentence.
She clearly remembered him—after all, just hours earlier he'd been kicked out. As his former coworker, she naturally knew what had happened.
Why's he back? Is he here to make trouble? Just don't drag me into it, the bartender thought anxiously.
"What, do I look scarier than a ghost now?" John sneered, clearly reading her thoughts.
"What? No, no. What would you like, sir?" She forced an awkward smile, unsure how to handle her former colleague, and settled on professionalism as the safest route.
"Lafite," John replied flatly.
"Huh?"
"What, worried I can't afford it?" John smirked disdainfully. He casually tossed a stack of cash toward her. "Here's your tip."
Her eyes widened in shock. She'd received tips before—typically thirty or fifty dollars, and occasionally a generous guest might throw in a few hundred—but never a full ten thousand dollars at once. Ten thousand! That was enough for someone to sell their innocence, yet this man had casually dismissed it as just a tip?
"Still waiting?" John prompted impatiently, seeing her frozen in shock.
"Yes—yes! Right away!" the bartender snapped back to reality, scrambling to pour the drink. Moments later, a glass of Lafite was respectfully placed in front of John Knight.
Holding the exquisite glass of Lafite with practiced elegance, John Knight chose a comfortable seat and settled down, leisurely sipping the luxurious wine while quietly waiting.
He knew it wouldn't take long for Emily Park to show up. The moment he'd entered, someone sharp-eyed had spotted him and rushed inside to inform her. As the manager here now, Emily would naturally come to investigate.
Sure enough, just moments later, her familiar voice spoke from behind him.
"John Knight?"
Emily Park's figure was even more alluring than before, wrapped snugly in a fiery-red silk dress that hugged every curve. As she walked toward him, the gentle sway of her hips and the tantalizing bounce of her chest caught his eye immediately.
Looks like that old bastard has been taking good care of her. John felt a bitter sting. To think he'd spent five long years devoted to a woman he never even touched—and now she was writhing beneath another man's body, a man old enough to be her father. The thought alone felt like a knife twisting in his chest.
Emily sat down nervously across from John. To her, seeing him again was like facing a living nightmare.
Her expression gave John a brief moment of déjà vu, sending him back to the days when they were still together. Whenever Emily felt she had disappointed him, she'd wear the exact same uncomfortable expression.
"John, we have nothing left to discuss," Emily said coldly. "If you have any dignity left as a man, stop bothering me."
"I've already given him money—why's he back again? Is he planning to use our past relationship to squeeze more money out of me?"
Seeing how mercenary his former lover's thoughts were, John's softened heart instantly hardened again.
Perhaps fearing John might cause a scene, Emily's tone softened slightly. "Look, I'm busy. If you have something to say, make it quick."
Yet inside, she was thinking: Worst-case scenario, I'll just give him a little extra cash. Anything to get rid of him for good—his very presence disgusts me.
"Relax," John said casually, smiling as his eyes roamed over her body, lingering deliberately at the swell of her breasts. "I'm just here to buy you a drink, for old times' sake. Won't you give me that much face? Looks like you've been living well."
Emily's expression soured instantly.
"This bastard's mocking me for sleeping with an old man! What the hell does he want from me today? If Richard finds out he's here... I need to find a way to have him thrown out quietly."
"If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving," Emily snapped, rising quickly from her seat.
"What's wrong? Afraid someone might find out you've been talking to me?" John sneered mockingly. "Relax, plenty of people are watching. I didn't do anything to you all those years together; what could I possibly do to you now?"
"What exactly do you want, John?" Emily's voice grew openly hostile, already considering calling security to remove him.
Suppressing his bitterness, John lightly waved a hand and said nonchalantly, "Actually, I'm not here for you today. I've finally got some cash, so I thought I'd treat myself. Go ahead if you're busy. No need to pay me special attention—someone might get jealous."
Just then, the attractive bartender who'd served John earlier leaned toward Emily, whispering softly into her ear.
John couldn't hear exactly what she said, but he didn't need to. Emily's thoughts came through loud and clear. The bartender had just told her about the Lafite he'd ordered and the ten-thousand-dollar tip he'd casually handed over.
The shock was immediate and unmistakable on Emily's face. A single thought flashed through her mind:
"When did this loser become so rich?"