socalfunplaces Chapter 55 Lynn, the Perfect Strategist
Chapter 55 Lynn, the Perfect Strategist
After the little snail won more than ten rounds in a row, the fake gambler's final, gritted-teeth fold brought the atmosphere at the gambling table to a freezing point.
The amount in the chip pool has piled up to a number that would drive ordinary people crazy with envy.
But the casino manager's face showed no sign of frustration at losing money; instead, it was as gloomy and stagnant as still water.
He finally realized that this wasn't some lucky nouveau riche at all; this person was there to cause trouble.
"Seal the doors off." The manager took a step back, his voice as cold as ice. "Don't let a single one escape."
With that command, the casino's heavy doors were slammed shut, and dozens of casino thugs emerged from the shadows to surround them.
There are no dramatic exchanges like in gangster movies. In this chaotic area between the Upper East Side and the shipwreck zone, when it comes to actual fighting, nobody wastes time talking.
"You're putting us in a difficult position by doing this!" The casino manager made a gesture as if to give an order.
However, faced with this almost certain death, the two people surrounded in the middle reacted in an extremely strange way.
The little snail sat on the chair, its muscles a little stiff.
Damn it... I messed up the mission again? This time I'm afraid I'll lose the GM's favorability.
But to the thugs, it was a kind of composure that remained unfazed even when Mount Tai collapsed before them.
Meanwhile, the new player Wangliang, who was standing behind him as his bodyguard, was overjoyed.
"Holy crap, a door-sealing attack? It's triggered a hidden gang conflict!"
The demon's brain circuits instantly completed a logical loop. This game boasts a 100% hardcore physics engine. Since there is no safe zone and the opponent has pulled out a weapon, why not strike first?
After all, I'm new here and don't have 500 credits to revive.
"Difficult to handle? Fuck, then let's not do it!"
With a roar, heaven knows how excited he was to utter that line.
He strode forward and gripped the heavy wooden gambling table in front of him with both hands. With heavy breathing and a burst of muscle power, he forcefully overturned the gambling table, which weighed over a hundred pounds, and slammed it down like a giant shield onto the group of thugs leading the group!
Splinters flew everywhere, and the dull thuds of breaking bones and tendons, accompanied by screams, instantly shattered the deathly silence of the casino.
"Damn it! Kill them!" The casino manager's eyes twitched wildly as he roared hysterically.
But everything had already gone awry. The demon, like a madman with no regard for its own life, grabbed anything heavy that it could grasp—chairs, chip trays, even brass ashtrays—and smashed them wildly and haphazardly.
The allure of the hardcore physics engine is on full display at this moment, with every punch landing with a visceral impact and flesh flying everywhere.
"Wow!! That's awesome!!"
In the midst of this extreme chaos, an accident occurred.
The old casino building was already dilapidated, and just now, one of the thugs was kicked away by the demon and crashed heavily into the old ventilation duct next to the load-bearing pillar.
"Creak..."
With a metallic tearing sound, the vent on the ceiling snapped open.
Then, to the astonishment of everyone present, a man dressed in black, like a heavy sack of potatoes, crashed straight down through the hole in the ceiling. With a thud, the man in black landed heavily on the pile of chips scattered on the floor, motionless, without even a breath.
In that instant, the once deafening casino hall fell into an eerie silence.
The casino manager's eyes widened as he stared intently at the "corpse" on the ground. His scalp tingled, and a chill ran down his spine.
In underground casinos, fights are commonplace, but death is an absolute red line that cannot be crossed.
The patrol teams at Pearl Harbor will pounce on the moment they smell the blood of a murder.
Once the venue is sealed off, all the huge amounts of illicit cash flow in the underground vault will be confiscated and swallowed up by the authorities under the guise of a thorough investigation!
With the committee's tacit approval, the patrol's behavior was tolerated.
"A frame-up...this is a premeditated frame-up!" The casino manager's voice trembled. "They deliberately brought a corpse to cause trouble! Quick! Go and inform the manager!"
At the same time, at the official residence of the chief financial officer.
The fat man pushed open the study door, panting heavily. He had been overwhelmed during the day dealing with the mess left by the tax bureau.
He plopped down behind the large desk, ready to pour himself a drink to calm his nerves.
The desk was spotless. The secret letter about the confiscation that should have caused him panic was now lying quietly in the deepest part of the wastepaper basket under the desk, covered tightly by several wads of waste paper.
As soon as the fat steward unscrewed the bottle cap, the communicator on the table began to vibrate wildly.
He answered the call in frustration, and immediately the casino manager's agonizing wail, accompanied by background noises of smashing and destruction, came through:
"Boss! Something terrible has happened! Someone's causing trouble! The other party is a crazy lunatic who's willing to risk his life, but the worst part is... they threw a body down from the ceiling into our lobby! The body's right here, and these guys are trying to lure the patrol team to raid our place!"
Snapped!
The fat steward smashed the wine bottle in his hand on the ground, shattering the expensive red wine into pieces.
Disrupting the event? Disposing of a body? Provoking a patrol to shut it down?
These words collided violently in the fat steward's greedy and suspicious mind like a chemical reaction, instantly piecing together a logical loop!
"This is no ordinary gang fight...this is a clever political assassination!" The fat manager's eyes turned bloodshot instantly, and his obese body sprang up as if electrocuted.
Was it a defector from the Bolton Group? Or his political rivals on the committee who were envious of his position? It doesn't matter anymore! The other side deliberately used a corpse to stage a murder at the casino, just to get the authorities involved.
Once the casino is shut down, his core cash flow hidden underground will be frozen, and may even be legally embezzled by his political enemies!
"My money...you want to steal my money? I'll make your whole family pay with their lives!"
The fear of bankruptcy completely overwhelmed the fat manager's rationality. He was convinced that since the opponent dared to set up such a vicious scheme, the casino's existing security would definitely not be able to withstand it, and the patrol team could arrive at any time.
He had to dispose of the body and move the money before the patrol arrived!
"Guards! Sound the alarm! Summon every man in the mansion who can carry a knife!" The fat steward roared as he stormed out of the study, his voice like a pig being slaughtered. "And summon the assassins outside the underground vault too..."
Wait, could this be a diversionary tactic?
After thinking about it carefully, the fat steward felt it didn't seem quite right. The way they were doing the work was too rough, and it shouldn't be related to the vault.
"Call all the brothers! Let's go."
Ten minutes later, the massive armed convoy, exuding a menacing aura, drove away from the official residence, kicking up dust that danced in the streetlights.
The defense system of the Treasurer's residence has become a complete shell.
In the dark alley, the puddles reflected the faint lights in the distance.
Lynn, wearing a trench coat, was hidden in the shadows, a brass coin twirling nimbly between his fingers.
The communicator in his pocket responded; it was a communication tool sponsored by the old one-eyed man.
"The secret message I sent was absolutely brilliant! Fatty went berserk after reading it and ran away with all his assassins!" Night Cat, hiding outside the official residence, looked confident that his plan had been executed perfectly.
Not far away, a series of chaotic footsteps approached. The little snail and the demon came running back, covered in dust. On the demon's shoulder, he was carrying the agent, who had become a "corpse" due to forced hibernation, like a sack.
"Boss, your plan is absolutely brilliant!" Little Snail ran forward with eyes full of excitement. "We not only scared the casino staff, but the Wraith also took the opportunity to wreak havoc! The most ingenious part was the agent; he used the disconnection mechanism to stage a high-altitude body dump from the ceiling, creating panic! You've absolutely planned everything perfectly!"
Listening to the players' enthusiastic praise, Lynn's fingers, which were toying with the coin, paused slightly.
He glanced at the agent, who had been casually tossed on the ground by the demon and was still in deep hibernation, and felt speechless.
Disposing of a body? When did I ever teach you guys how to dispose of a body from a height? These geniuses must have messed up something again, and by some twist of fate, they managed to swindle that suspicious fat manager away.
Although he was internally ranting and raving, Lynn, being a highly professional GM, managed to control his facial expressions.
"Yes, I timed the agents perfectly, and thankfully you handled it well."
Looking at Lynn's calm and composed back, the little snail and the demon exchanged a glance, their hearts filled with nothing but shock.
A true master is a master; this feeling of having everything under control is simply invincible!
Ignoring the players' wild speculations, Lynn picked up the communicator and issued the final order: "Bring the ledger out as quickly as possible!"