That offhand line, drifting out as lightly as a feather, sounded to the ecstatic "Shredder" like nothing more than the final whimper of a dying dog.
He bared his teeth, bone white, and let out a harsh, grating laugh.
"Kid, it's too late to beg now! Show your cards! Let me see that look of despair on your face!"
Deng deng leng deng, deng deng deng… (the Chow Yun Fat BGM)
Kael shrugged. With two fingers, he leisurely pinched the first card on the table and flipped it over.
A mixed-suit Two.
Shredder's grin stretched even wider, contempt practically spilling from his eyes.
Kael flipped the second card.
A mixed-suit Three.
Shredder was already ready to savor Kael's ugly, tearful collapse.
Kael's fingers settled on the last card. He didn't flip it right away. Instead, he glanced up at the man across from him, whose face was already twisted beyond recognition, and a playful curve rose at Kael's lips.
Then he flicked his finger.
The card arced through the air in a clean, elegant curve, spinning as it fell.
Five of Clubs.
A trash hand: 2, 3, 5.
Shredder's smile froze solid. His pupils shrank to pinpoints in an instant.
Every muscle on his face convulsed. He went stiff like he'd been struck by lightning.
How was that possible?
How could it be 2, 3, 5?
The one hand that could suppress three aces. The legendary "table sweeper"!
Silence.
A dead, suffocating silence filled the private room.
Shredder's bloodshot eyes nailed themselves to those three cards, as if he could burn holes through them with sheer hatred.
He whipped his head around, gaze vicious enough to devour flesh, and stared straight at the sexy dealer beside him.
Thud.
The dealer's legs gave out. She collapsed onto the floor, pale as paper, lips trembling, unable to force out a single word.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible!
When she dealt, she had personally delivered three aces to Shredder. And she had definitely given the idiot kid across the table a scattered trash hand. How could it have become this?
"You dare play me!"
Shredder finally tore himself free from the shock and roared like a beast.
"Cheating! You're cheating, you have to be!"
"If you're bad, train more." Kael picked at his ear, calm as a lazy cloud. "If you can't afford to lose, don't play."
That sentence torched the last shred of Shredder's reason.
There was only one thought left in his mind: whether this man cheated or not, he had to die here tonight. Otherwise, the one dying would be him.
He yanked a dagger from his clothes, its edge flashing cold, and lunged at Kael like a madman.
"Die!"
The casino guards reacted too, drawing weapons and rushing Kael from every direction.
Kael stayed seated, perfectly steady, not moving an inch.
He only looked at them and reminded them with a smile, sweet as poison.
"Aww, the floor's slippery. Careful now."
The moment the words fell, the guard in front stumbled hard, body pitching forward out of control.
The man behind him couldn't dodge in time and was tripped. Then a third. A fourth.
A storm of crashes erupted. A dozen guards toppled into a tangled heap, stacked like human blocks.
Inside the room, only Shredder was still standing.
He was one step from Kael, dagger raised high.
"Tch. Pathetic."
A cold, raspy voice came from outside the door.
Before anyone could react, a violent torrent of sand surged in through the open doorway, forming a massive sand palm that scooped up the entire pile of guards along with Shredder and hurled them out of the private room without mercy.
Screams and the sound of bones snapping echoed down the corridor, then cut off.
The sand scattered.
A tall figure stood in the doorway.
A heavy black fur coat. A gleaming golden hook. A cigar clenched between his teeth.
The owner of this casino.
Sir Crocodile, Crocodile himself.
He stepped inside, gaze sweeping over the mountain of chips on the table before landing on Kael, his eyes dark and predatory.
"Kid. Lucky." Crocodile exhaled a smoke ring. "Do me a favor. Leave the money. You can walk out alive."
"A favor?"
Kael laughed like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world, laughing so hard he almost doubled over.
"Who the hell are you to have a 'favor' I should give?"
Simple trash talk. Pure bliss.
Crocodile's eyes sank instantly, the hook gleaming with dangerous light.
Fury twisted into a vicious grin.
"Interesting. So you don't understand the rules here. On my turf, I am the rules." He stepped forward, pressure rolling off him like a storm. "If you won't follow the rules, you're making this very hard for me."
"Hard?"
Kael's smile vanished as he slowly stood.
"If it's so hard, then don't do it."
The moment the words landed, he slammed one hand on the table and flipped it up.
Boom!
That solid mahogany table, weighing hundreds of kilograms, was sent flying like it weighed nothing, tumbling through the air straight at Crocodile.
At the same time, the light and shadow on Kael's face warped and rippled.
That ordinary, slightly stupid rich-kid face melted away like a reflection disturbed in water, dissolving in seconds.
In its place appeared a face that carried boundless authority.
His black hair stirred without wind.
And those pure golden eyes were so deep they seemed to hold an entire starry sky.
Crocodile swung his hook on instinct, releasing a blade of sand that cleaved the flying table in half.
Wood chips exploded through the air.
Through the smoke and debris, his eyes caught that face.
His pupils contracted violently.
The cigar fell from his mouth and hit the floor with a dull tap.
This man. That face.
Impossible.
How could he be here?
"Wave King… Aaron Kael!"