"Where's Christian Edis? Bring him out! We're here to redeem someone!" Jiang Hai barked, striding into the casino with authority. He glanced around quickly.
He had been to casinos in Atlantic City before, and this one was about the same—not too large, only two floors, but decently airy. A few slot machines lined the walls, and about thirty gaming tables filled the floor—blackjack, baccarat, craps, and others. Though modest in scale, it still catered to gamblers with deeper pockets. The second floor had private rooms—no doubt where Christian Edis was hiding.
Without bothering to search, Jiang Hai marched straight into the center of the lobby, dropped the money bag on a nearby gaming table, and shouted, his voice carrying above the noise.
Patrons turned to look. Security guards who had been patrolling nearby quickly converged, their expressions hardening, hands inching toward the weapons at their waists.
"Where's Christian? I know he knows I'm here. Get him out!" Jiang Hai's tone brooked no argument.
Before the tension could escalate further, a voice rang out from the second floor.
"Wow, wow, wow! I didn't expect Mr. Jiang to show up in person. What a surprise!"
Jiang Hai looked up. Sure enough, Christian Edis descended the stairs with a smile plastered across his face, his son beside him.
"No surprise. I'm here to settle a debt," Jiang Hai replied coolly. He could tell from one look—Christian Edis was part of the setup.
"Settle a debt? Mr. Jiang, I don't recall holding anyone hostage," Christian Edis laughed, though his smile faltered ever so slightly.
Jiang Hai didn't respond. Instead, he motioned for Thackeray Eddie to step forward.
"Ah! Little Eddie!" Christian feigned a delighted smile as he spotted the young man. "Don't worry, he's fine. We're all from the same hometown, after all. Though… he does owe me quite a bit of money."
At his signal, three men quietly turned and moved off—two went to fetch Little Eddie, and the third slipped upstairs, clearly heading toward the private rooms where the Carlett Company men and the islander waited.
What they didn't realize was that their movements hadn't gone unnoticed. Galina and Du Ning had already picked up on it and stepped over to Jiang Hai, whispering a brief update. Jiang Hai nodded, then waved a hand.
"If an enemy comes, we fight. If water comes, we build a wall. Simple as that," he said calmly, his eyes scanning the room.
He knew they wouldn't give up Little Eddie so easily. This was likely their main leverage over him—and by extension, over the surrounding lands. Whatever plans they had, freeing Little Eddie could unravel them. And despite Christian Edis's composed appearance, Jiang Hai could sense the tension beneath it.
Christian's position in Boston's underworld wasn't insignificant, but even he couldn't afford to offend either Jiang Hai or the men upstairs. When they'd approached him to set up this scheme, greed had clouded his judgment. Now, caught in the middle, he was sweating bullets.
Moments later, the two men returned, dragging out a young man who looked like a pale and haggard version of Thackeray Eddie. His face was ashen, eyes sunken, dark circles beneath them. Though physically unharmed, he was clearly terrified and confused.
When he spotted his father, he burst into tears.
"Dad!"
"You bastard! You still know I'm your father? How dare you come to a place like this!" Thackeray Eddie shouted, holding back tears himself. Despite his anger, he was clearly relieved.
As he moved forward to collect his son, Jiang Hai began walking alongside him—only for another voice to ring out from above.
"Hold on! The boy's here—but where's the money?"
A man with slicked-back hair and a powdered face stepped into view on the second-floor landing. Behind him stood a Japanese man in a kimono and none other than Jiang Hai's old acquaintance, Roslin Carlett, who avoided Jiang Hai's gaze.
Frankly, if it weren't for the lucrative potential of this scheme, Roslin wouldn't have dared cross Jiang Hai again.
Without a word, Jiang Hai casually lifted the money bag and tossed it to a nearby security guard.
The guard opened it and began counting. Neatly stacked bundles—eighty in total, each ten thousand dollars. All freshly sealed in bank straps. When the count was done, he nodded toward Christian Edis.
"Eight hundred thousand," he confirmed.
"Not enough!" the powdered-faced man laughed coldly from the second floor.
"What?! You said it was $800,000!" Thackeray Eddie shouted, furious.
"Old man, what do you know? Your son's been eating our food, sleeping under our roof, gambling with us. You think we're running a charity? What about interest?"
The man spoke with open contempt, clearly enjoying the scene.
"You shameless bastard! You told me just yesterday—and I brought the money today!" Thackeray raged, his face red with fury.
But the man only smirked, picking at his ear with indifference.
"You've said enough. That's all the money? Take it or leave it."
Before Thackeray could retort again, Jiang Hai calmly stepped forward.
"Turn on your phone. Record this," he said to Galina.
Then, facing the powdered-faced man, he said coldly, "Tell us. How much did he spend on food, lodging, 'entertainment,' and this so-called interest?"
Yes, usury existed in the U.S., but every country had a legal cap. This wasn't interest—it was fraud and extortion.
The man looked startled by Jiang Hai's straightforwardness—and more than a little unsettled.
"You've got some nerve..." he growled.
"You're damn right I do. I don't know which one of you forgot to zip up and exposed this scheme, but listen—today, I'm protecting the Eddie family. Name your number. The federal government will decide if it's legit."
Jiang Hai sat at a gaming table, exuding pure disdain.
"This is American soil, boy! You'd better check your arrogance!" the white man snapped, gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white.
"Wrong. This is the land of the rich. And the only question is—are you richer than me? Are you paying more tax than I am?" Jiang Hai sneered. "Because in America, money talks. Isn't that what you believe in?"
"Let's see if you can walk out of here today!" the man shouted, slamming the railing.
Instantly, weapons were drawn.
The casino guards raised their guns.
Du Ning and Galina reacted just as quickly, pulling out their own firearms and aiming with sharp, practiced precision. Jiang Hai also drew his massive pistol, pointing it without hesitation.
With a glance from Jiang Hai, Du Ning immediately stopped the recording and sent the footage to the Winthrop Police Department. They'd know exactly what to do.
Amid the rising tension, the one sweating most wasn't Thackeray or even the customers—it was Christian Edis.
If anything happened to Jiang Hai inside this casino, he'd be ruined. The islander had diplomatic immunity. The white man wasn't even local. As for Roslin Carlett—well, Carlett Company had more than one face.
But Christian? He would be the scapegoat. His entire fortune, built over years, would vanish in an instant.
"Wait! Put down your weapons!" Christian shouted, stepping forward. "Mr. Jiang, this has nothing to do with me. Little Eddie owed me $800,000. That's all. I never asked for more. I'll take it and let him go. The rest—that's their business!"
He punched the nearest guard, then motioned to have Little Eddie released.
Reluctantly, the security guards lowered their weapons. The two thugs holding Little Eddie let him go, and Thackeray immediately pulled his son behind him, retreating toward Jiang Hai.
Now only the white man's personal guards remained armed—and truthfully, they looked unsure.
Earlier, with overwhelming numbers, the white man had felt confident. But now? He was outgunned, outmaneuvered, and dangerously exposed.
The two women beside Jiang Hai weren't ordinary bodyguards. Their cold, precise handling of their weapons told the full story. And Bell, quietly observing from behind, was infamous in the region—a former Delta Force soldier, his reputation alone kept their guards uneasy.
Truthfully, if a fight had broken out earlier, Jiang Hai might not have been able to protect both Thackeray and his son. But escaping? That wouldn't have been a problem.
And if Jiang Hai left... that's when the real nightmare would begin for them.
Suddenly, sirens blared outside. Red and blue lights flashed against the windows.
"Arrest them! Now!" came a shout from the entrance.
The local police had arrived—fast and in force. After all, Jiang Hai wasn't just a civilian; he was a major investor and benefactor to the local community. They wouldn't sit idle while he was threatened.
"Looks like there won't be a fight after all," Jiang Hai muttered.
The white man clenched his fists, his jaw tight. He waved his guards down. They lowered their weapons with great reluctance.
The man gave a nonchalant shrug, but Jiang Hai saw the fury burning behind his eyes.
To be continued...