novelhk Chapter 114, Section 11: Predators in the Night
Chapter 114, Section 11: Predators in the Night
Chapter 114, Section 11: Predators in the Night
"I thought someone like you wouldn't even deign to come to a place like this!"
Jason walked towards the audience, yawning widely.
He really disliked casinos; the murky air mixed with the smell of tobacco made him drowsy. But in order to find out what Qin Wei had been up to lately, he still came in—after spending a fortune to buy his first suit.
But the clothes were too tight, especially on his upper arms and neck, which were constricted by his strong muscles. He was afraid that if he made any bigger movements, the clothes would be torn apart.
He was having difficulty breathing and tugged at his bow tie, trying to get more air into his lungs.
Although Jason wasn't in Qin Wei's plan, considering the kid's curious nature might ruin things, Qin Wei still prepared a script for Matchstick Marlon to deal with him. Whether it was lucky or unlucky, this thing actually came in handy.
"How did you end up here?" Matchstick Marlon recited from the script.
Jason frowned, his facial muscles tense like a plaster statue.
He still respected Qin Wei for some reason, but he wasn't sure how long that respect could last if the other party continued like this.
"Are you really planning to just go down this path of depravity? Come back with me." Jason extended a sincere invitation, admitting that this wish was mixed with his selfish desire for Qin Wei to continue leading the group, and he felt a little embarrassed the moment he blurted it out.
These words reached the ears of the six people at the gambling table without missing a beat, and they exchanged glances once again.
"Who are you, kid? Are you an accomplice of the con artists? —"
The woman tossed her hair, wanting to press her advantage, but her words were cut short by Jason's roar.
"Shut up, you filthy bastards! If anyone says he cheated again, I'll cut off his penis and shove it into that ripped-up mouth!"
What vulgar language! The blonde woman, who had been extremely arrogant just moments before, was rendered speechless by the insults, and boos erupted from the crowd.
The people who frequent the Dream Casino are mostly politicians and wealthy businessmen, and they probably can't remember the last time they heard such vulgar language.
Whispers arose from the crowd.
"Who is he? From the East District?"
"Hmph! Probably only a bastard from the East District would utter such filthy words."
Only the old man maintained his usual demeanor; he stood up and slammed the chips heavily on the table.
"Young man! This is none of your business, cheating—"
When the word "cheating" finally escaped his lips, the old man only felt a blur before his eyes. When he came to his senses, the ferocious Jason had already grabbed him by the neck and thrown him to the ground. Swearing? Swearing is only used to vent emotions. To Jason, who always keeps his word, it was just an ordinary warning.
"You son of a bitch! You don't think I'm joking with you, do you!" Jason laughed as he stuck his thumb into the old man's mouth.
It looks like if no one comes to stop him, he really will tear the other person's mouth apart.
Several security guards rushed forward, trying to subdue Jason, but how could they possibly handle the enraged Red Hood? It was as if he possessed the power of a TNT explosion; one man was sent flying the moment he touched him, while another was struck in the abdomen by an elbow and fell to his knees with a thud.
Jason's clothes finally ripped open, and with a "rip," a large hole was torn open at the back of his suit jacket and shirt.
When the exaggerated muscles were exposed to everyone, those who had previously looked down on him obediently shut their mouths and shrank back into the crowd. After seeing the configuration of this humanoid tank, no one wanted to provoke him anymore.
Meanwhile, more security personnel arrived, bringing with them stun guns and pepper spray.
Just as the situation was about to spiral out of control, Royce, who had been hit and suffered a concussion with her head wrapped in bandages, arrived late.
"Mr. Todd, please calm down for my sake."
Exhaling a long plume of smoke, Royce, with a cigar in his mouth, nodded to the bewildered Jason, indicating that he could take care of the rest.
The older man had extensive experience dealing with people, and he roughly guessed that these guys at the gambling table were there to probe the authenticity of "Qin Wei." If he went along with their rhythm, he would easily fall into a self-proving trap, but if he broke the deadlock violently like Jason, he would easily deepen the other party's suspicion.
Therefore, what should be presented now is not "proof that there is no cheating", but rather "evidence of cheating" that the other party has produced. In the meantime, he should also tell these guys that the "human skin mask" does not exist and that the person in front of them is "Mr. Wei" himself.
The task was somewhat complicated, but Reus was confident he could handle the overall situation.
He sat down at the gambling table with his legs crossed and placed his cigar on the chips.
"Gentlemen, this Mr. Wei is my friend. If you accuse him of cheating, may I consider it a provocation against Royce Ben, or even against all the Romans in the financial district?"
Royce lifted his loose eyelids and slowly scanned each face on the gambling table. His gaze was not sharp; in fact, it was somewhat lifeless.
But everyone who faced his light lowered their heads in a panic.
Reus Ben, the deputy of Oswald, a rising star in the Roman Empire. Those present might not have seen his face, but they certainly had heard his name.
Gotham's ecosystem established the gangs' transcendent status. People can disregard government agencies and the police because they won't kick down your door at night and point a gun at your head, but the gangs will.
Especially since offending a behemoth like the Roman Empire would have consequences no one could afford.
The security guards silently withdrew from Jason's side, and even the dealer who was in control of the situation showed a look of fear.
The casino manager rushed over with a forced smile, wanting to shake hands with Royce, but the latter didn't even bother to extend his hand. He simply raised his eyelids and turned his head, signaling the manager to get out of the way.
"This matter won't end so easily. Before my friend can prove his identity is legitimate, you must pay the price for these baseless accusations." The old man drew his dagger and, to the astonishment of the group, flicked his wrist, sending it flying to the center of the gambling table.
The dagger pierced through a King card and was pinned vertically to the table, as if telling the group who was the true king here.
"One index finger each, do it before you talk to me!"
The bloody scene frightened away the onlookers, leaving only the person involved in the incident in the empty hall.
Six bloodied fingers lay scattered in the center of the gambling table. The old man at the head of the table was pale-faced and trembling in agony as he clutched the severed fingers.
"Now—it's time to prove to us the identity of this 'Mr. Wei.'"
"Of course, credibility is the foundation of a Roman's standing in this city."
Royce toyed with the dagger and slowly walked behind Matchstick Malone.
"Are you ready?"
"Huh? What are you preparing!"
Before he finished speaking, he grabbed Matchstick Long's hair and slashed a deep wound on his face with a dagger. Actually, this was unnecessary.
You can tell from the stretched skin on Matchstick Marlon's face that he wasn't wearing a human skin mask.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this farce should end now."
Reus unfolded a silk scarf to wipe the blood from the blade and ordered his men to wrap the fingers on the table.
He wasn't going to give these guys a chance to be picked up from the hospital.
With everything settled, Royce patted Jason on the shoulder:
"Go back to the East District quickly! This is Wei's idea; he doesn't want you involved in this."
"This matter?"
"Yes, actually I don't know what he's planning either. I was just involved in part of the plan." Royce watched the men with severed fingers leave, lowered his voice and shook his head.
"So stop asking. You have a lot of things to do, dealing with the Masked Company, managing the East District, don't you?"
As Jason walked out of the casino, he impatiently ripped off his bow tie, tore open the top button of his shirt, and took a deep breath of the night air. The few words Royce had revealed reassured him somewhat; it seemed that the man wasn't as depraved as he had thought, but rather operating in the shadows in a more covert way.
He was satisfied with just knowing this once.
But as soon as Jason reached the parking lot, he heard a faint cry for help.
"Help me—"
He ignored the cries for help. A wealthy young master who can afford to live a carefree life in a place like this shouldn't need a poor kid from the East District to lend a hand.
He climbed into the car and started the engine. The Beetle's halogen headlights cleaved a path of light in the dark and empty parking lot, and at the end of the light, an old man covered in blood was reaching out his hand to send him a distress signal.
Jason shuddered.
He recognized the man as the old man who had harassed "Qin Wei" at the casino earlier.
The old man was stepping on a bloodstained military combat boot.
The ominous-looking fellow stood silently in the light, like an owl whose hunt had been interrupted—his body remained still, but his face slowly turned toward Jason Todd.
A strange black leather jacket outlined his tall and strong physique; a black cape resembling that of a Western cowboy was wrapped around his neck and hung down to his waist; the light from the car headlights shone on his sharp metal fingertips, which gleamed with a sharp light.
Jason initially thought the other person was the mysterious figure he had met in the financial district a few days ago, but the mask shaped like a raptor's head immediately made him reject that guess.
The other person turned their head, and the moment Jason's eyes met those deep blue eyes, only one word popped into his mind.
"Run!"
! "
He slammed on the gas pedal.