Chapter 43: Do You Yield?

He glanced indifferently at the dealer. “You can open the cup now.”

The dealer looked at the banker.

“Open it! Open it, damn it!” the banker barked, waving a broad hand. “So what if it’s three sixes? A hundred-dollar bet, even at one hundred and fifty times the payout, that’s not even fifteen thousand—if I can’t afford to lose that, what kind of banker am I?”

“Open the cup!” someone called.

The dealer raised his hand and lifted the cup with force.

Six. Six. Six.

It really was three sixes.

One pays one hundred and fifty.

The smiles on the banker and dealer froze instantly, their faces full of astonishment.

Did this kid really just get that lucky?

Ye Fei smiled faintly. “Just luck, that’s all.”

Then, Ye Fei tossed all his chips onto the bet for triple sixes again, displaying a high-roller’s bravado.

Sitting beside him, Zhou Danzhuang, unfamiliar with the game, could only watch with wide-eyed curiosity, unable to understand the rules.

“Betting on three sixes again?”

“Buddy, I’ve never seen anyone bet like you!”

“Do you really think your luck is that good, going all in on triple sixes every time?”

The other gamblers were even more shocked, pointing at Ye Fei as they discussed him.

“I don’t think there’s a rule against it, is there?” Ye Fei replied calmly, glancing at the banker and the dealer. “Or is it that you just can’t handle it?”

The banker’s face darkened. “Can’t handle it? Tonight, I want to see who can’t handle it. Shake the cup!”

The dealer hurried to shake the dice cup.

“Open it!” the banker barked.

The dealer hesitated for two seconds.

Three sixes.

Identical to before.

“Holy shit!”

“My god! What kind of luck is this?”

“He got triple sixes twice in a row?!”

A hundred times one hundred and fifty is fifteen thousand.

Fifteen thousand times one hundred and fifty is two million two hundred and fifty thousand.

In other words, in just two rounds, Ye Fei had won two million.

Unfortunately, every table had a maximum payout of one hundred thousand.

“This…”

“What the hell?”

“Is the God of Gamblers here in person?”

The crowd around the table was stunned.

The dealer trembled, collapsing onto the floor. To roll triple sixes twice in a row—he knew he’d probably just lost his job.

The banker’s expression turned grim. He pulled out a bank card, the password scrawled on its back, and slapped it onto the table without a word before storming off.

“Let’s go, to another table.” Ye Fei picked up the card with a cheerful grin, gave Guozi—who trailed behind—a sidelong glance, and led Zhou Danzhuang to another table.

Guozi’s expression was ugly to the extreme. As an old hand in the gambling house, he knew for certain that Ye Fei hadn’t used any tricks; both triple sixes were pure luck.

What kind of person had such luck?

Huang Duocai, on the other hand, was red-eyed with excitement. In his mind, Ye Fei was a man blessed with absurd luck. If not for the tense atmosphere, he would have borrowed money to follow Ye Fei’s bets himself.

Ye Fei proceeded to take his chips to other tables, trying his hand at various games, including but not limited to baccarat, roulette, and slot machines.

Though she didn’t understand the rules, Zhou Danzhuang watched Ye Fei win again and again, barely pausing. By the end, other gamblers were crowding around, following his every move, matching his bets, and not losing a single round.

Feeling dizzy, Zhou Danzhuang carried a bag stuffed with cash won from more than a dozen tables.

Trailing behind, Guozi finally couldn’t bear it. He pulled out his phone and sent a message, then halted all the tables and dispersed the crowd of gamblers shadowing Ye Fei.

He blocked Ye Fei’s path, his face dark and cold. “Buddy, if you keep this up, how am I supposed to make any money?”

Ye Fei ignored him and asked, “Senior Sister, count it up—how much do we have?”

“Ah? Oh!” Zhou Danzhuang squatted down, opened the bag, and began stacking the bills.

“One… two… three…”

“In total… four hundred thousand!”

“Ye Fei, in less than an hour, you turned a hundred dollars into over half a million! You’re incredible!”

She was dumbfounded, holding a fistful of bills, at a loss.

Ye Fei smiled, took the plastic bag from her, pulled out the bank card, and handed it to Guozi. “Back when Chen Daozai turned twenty dollars into thirty-seven million, today I, Ye Fei, turned a hundred into half a million. Do you accept it, or not?”

Guozi’s face darkened. He never imagined that Ye Fei could win half a million from just five dollars right under his nose!

What did that even mean?

During the entire gambling spree, he’d kept a close eye on Ye Fei, but with all his experience and sharpness, he hadn’t noticed the slightest sign of cheating—no tricks, no high-tech gadgets, nothing.

Could it be that someone in this world could really have luck this defiant?

“Wait! I don’t believe your luck is that good. I want to search you—see if you’re running some scam!”

Guozi didn’t take the money, but instead clapped a meaty hand on Ye Fei’s shoulder, his face twitching with malice.

Ye Fei’s gaze turned icy. With a sharp shrug, he shook Guozi’s hand off with force.

“I’m not fond of arguments. Too much talking isn’t a good thing.”

His tone was calm, but his words carried the edge of a dagger.

Guozi instantly felt a terrifying pressure bear down on him, his knees beginning to tremble.

Only then did he realize that his right hand had been fractured by Ye Fei’s shoulder.

The nearby toughs, hearing Ye Fei’s words, swore and prepared to jump him.

“Stop! No one move!”

At that moment, a middle-aged man with graying temples descended the stairs. He had a large belly, a string of prayer beads in his hand, and a distinct scar across his forehead.

“Uncle Long!”

Guozi and the others bowed deeply in greeting.

Sweat beaded on Guozi’s brow. Now they were really in trouble—even Uncle Long had been alerted.

Though Guozi was the face of the casino, the real boss was this Uncle Long, a local kingpin who rarely showed himself, preferring to remain behind the scenes.

“Let them go. You’ve provoked someone you shouldn’t have,” Uncle Long said, his expression dark, but he gave Ye Fei a look of goodwill.

Ye Fei gave a playful smile, glanced at Guozi, and said, “Next time, teach your men to keep their eyes open.”

“My apologies for the offense,” Uncle Long nodded and made a respectful gesture.

Guozi, drenched in sweat and thoroughly humiliated by Ye Fei, dared not show the slightest resentment, fearful of incurring Uncle Long’s displeasure.

“Senior Sister, I’m still hungry. Shall we discuss where to go for a meal?” Ye Fei stretched lazily and walked unhurriedly toward the exit.

Seeing Ye Fei leave all the money on the table, Zhou Danzhuang shot a fierce glare at Huang Duocai, who, deeply ashamed, trailed meekly after the two as they left.