Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

"Boss, don't tell me you bought a hundred million in chips!" Zhang Bin's eyes were about to pop out of his head.

"Is that a lot? Heh. There'll be more in a little while," Yang Hengye said with a laugh.

Wang Mei was secretly astonished. Just who on earth was this Yang Ce? How was he so rich? Earlier, when he had thrown out tens of millions, Wang Mei had already thought it was a great deal, and had privately wondered whether Yang Juehuan's net worth had already passed a hundred million.

But now it seemed she had vastly underestimated him. Yang Ce was far beyond a mere hundred million—casually producing a hundred million to exchange for gambling chips was simply unimaginable.

Back when she had followed Liu Jihao, Wang Mei had felt she had already stepped into the life of high society, enjoying ample spiritual and material comforts. Only now did she realize that had been utterly insignificant in comparison.

Yang Cenbin and his group were the truly wealthy ones. It now seemed this Yang Juehuan's net worth was in no way inferior to Huang Yan's family.

"Boss, didn't you say gambling is bad? Then why exchange so many chips? What if you lose?" Fortunately, Zhang Bin hadn't lost his head—he still knew to worry about the money.

"There's a kind of person who never loses," Yang Puqi said with a straight face.

"What kind of person?" Zhang Bin instinctively followed up.

"Your boss—me," Yang Ce said, pointing at himself with an air of insufferable swagger.

"Huh?" Zhang Bin was dumbfounded.

"Because your boss is the God of Gamblers," Yang Yuting said with a nod, putting on a profoundly mysterious look.

Yang Yongjin ignored Zhang Bin's reaction and, taking Huang Yan by the hand, led her into the casino. Huang Yan was not at all surprised by Yang Juehuan's spending; her family was wealthy to begin with, and a hundred million or so was nothing remarkable.

What's more, Huang Yan did not care in the least whether Yang Moyi had money. As long as she was happy, that was enough. In any case, Huang Yan felt that Yang Cenbin was a very good boyfriend—he gave her a feeling of being moved that she had never known since childhood.

Yang Ce casually scanned all the entertainment on offer in the casino. Since he was pressed for time, he had to find a game with high odds and fast rounds.

In the end, Yang Ce's gaze came to rest on the big-and-small dice game.

Yang Ce walked straight over to the big-and-small table and casually found a seat.

"Place your bets, no taking them back!" the dealer said to the surrounding bettors after shaking the dice.

Yang Ce glanced at the dice beneath the bowl—one, one, three. Five points, small. Yang Ce tossed his hundred-million chip straight onto the table and bet on small.

"Ah!" A gasp rippled through the crowd. A hundred-million chip—surely that was a joke? Here in the downstairs hall, the most one ever saw were thousand-yuan chips; even hundred-thousand chips were rare. And the chips Yang Ce threw down were ten of a thousand yuan each?

The dealer's eyes widened too, staring at Yang Ce in disbelief. "Sir, this is the main hall. You should be in the VIP room."

"What, you won't take my bet because I've got too much money?" Yang Ce sneered. "Or is it that you can't afford to pay if you lose?"

The last thing a casino wanted to hear was a guest saying they couldn't afford to pay. The moment Yang Juehuan spoke, the dealer's face flushed red, and he hurried to explain, "Of course not, sir. It's just that your chips are a bit too large."

"What, you don't have the authority? Then find someone who does," Yang Ce snorted coldly.

In fact, the dealer did not need to fetch anyone—the floor manager in the hall had already noticed what was happening and was striding over. One look at the chips on the table and he understood exactly what was going on.

The rule for betting on big or small at the South City Casino was one-to-one-point-five: put down a thousand, and if you won you got back fifteen hundred, principal and profit together. Which meant that no matter how things shook out, it was basically the house that made the money.

After all, there were always punters on both big and small, and the two sides came out roughly even, so the books balanced. What was rare, though, was someone like Yang Cenbin putting it all on one side—let alone with a hundred-million-yuan stack of chips.

To be continued

870. What Is a God of Gamblers?

870 What Is a God of Gamblers? Yang Ce's play had scared Wang Mei and Zhang Bin half to death. A gamble on this scale was something you would not see often in any casino. Even Huang Yan was taken aback.

"Yang Ce, what are you doing? Are you sure you can win?" Huang Yan asked him in a low voice.

"Probably." Yang Ce's answer was vague, because he could not speak with certainty—otherwise it would be hard to explain. To distract Huang Yan, Yang Puqi pulled her over and sat her down on his lap.

The Yang Ce of this moment looked very much like one of those free-spending high rollers on television, a beauty in his arms as he threw down a fortune.

"Sir, with stakes this large, wouldn't you rather play upstairs? It's crowded down here, and you'll be spoiling the other guests' entertainment." The floor manager came over and spoke with great deference.

"Spare me the useless talk. I've placed my bet—where does it say I can't play downstairs?" Yang Mo said with some impatience. "Or are you afraid to open it?"

The floor manager was rather helpless at Yang Juehuan's words. True enough, no rule anywhere said a man could not play downstairs. So he threw the dealer a look and said, "Open it."

Seeing the floor manager's consent, the dealer tremblingly lifted the bowl cover. One, one, three—five points, small. Just as Yan had seen before.

Changing the dice numbers while lifting the bowl cover was something that happened only on television; in real life it was next to impossible unless you resorted to high-tech tricks. But once someone caught you at it, the casino's reputation would hit rock bottom, and it might even go bankrupt—so no casino would risk such games.

The dealer's face changed at once. The floor manager was shocked too, though he did not show much emotion. He merely said, "Sir, you've won."

A cheer went up from the crowd. Just like that, he had won fifty million, and everyone cast envious looks at Yang Ce. But they saw only the profit before their eyes; none of them stopped to think that if Yang Ce had lost, that hundred million would have gone down the drain.

"Oh, let's continue." Yang Yongjin unhurriedly took the chips he had won and said to the dice-shaking dealer.

The dealer looked at the floor manager in some difficulty. The floor manager nodded to him, and only then did the dealer go on shaking the dice: "All right, place your bets, hands off."

The dealer clapped the bowl cover down on the table and called out to the gamblers on all four sides. But his voice was noticeably trembling.

Two, two, five—nine points, small. Yang Ce glanced at the dice under the cover and tossed the hundred and fifty million in chips he had just won onto small.

The dealer lifted the cover, and clearly Yang Ce had won again. Two hundred and twenty-five million in chips came into Yang Juehuan's hands. The floor manager watched quietly. There was basically no skill to this big-or-small business; it was all luck. Those television scenes of someone listening with his ear to tell the dice under the cover—pure fabrication. No such person existed in real life.

So as long as Yang Ce kept betting, sooner or later there would come a hand where he lost everything and went down in one blow. The floor manager was therefore not too alarmed. He refused to believe Yang Puqi could go without losing a single hand.

But the fact was that Yang Juehuan did not lose a single hand. Whether he bet big or small, the final result was always Yang Ce's victory.