There Must Be Something Wrong With This Game!

Climbing out of the reeking sewer and onto the surface, Yan Yuan pinched its nose and said helplessly, "It stinks down there, and it’s awful up here. This world is a really hostile place."

"There’s nothing to be done about it. This is what happens in a society of runaway capitalism," Duan Fei said helplessly. "There’s no point in improving the environment. In fact, a polluted one creates a market for clean air and purification equipment. It’s obvious which side capital would choose."

The Lone Ranger didn’t like this place, either.

As an Assassin, darkness was his friend—his natural shield.

Being immersed in darkness brought him an unparalleled sense of security, making him feel as if he were back in his mother’s embrace.

But Wing City was different.

Neon lights were used to gaudy excess, shrouding the entire city in a garish, multicolored glow. Though vibrant, it had the quality of an oil slick shimmering on a rainwater puddle.

Cheap and unhealthy.

Not to mention the polluted air, the jarring noise from public broadcasts, and the omnipresent murder and crime. It all made the city feel exceptionally chaotic and volatile.

Suppressing his unease, the Lone Ranger said to Duan Fei, "Alright, you said we were going to gamble. You must have a surefire way to win, right?"

"How could there possibly be a surefire way to win at gambling?" Duan Fei shot the Lone Ranger an annoyed look. "The expected value of gambling is always less than one. That means no matter how much money you have, you’re losing from the moment you put it in. You might win in the short term, but in the long run, the house always wins."

"Then why are you going?" the Lone Ranger retorted, clearly annoyed. "Don’t tell me you have a way to cheat. Little Fatty isn’t here, so we can’t cheat either."

"Relax, I have an ace in the hole. Hang on, I’m about to pull a person out of thin air for you."

Duan Fei slipped back into the sewer. When he emerged again, another person was with him.

This person, however, had vacant eyes and looked like a walking corpse—more lifeless than even the cheapest humanoid robot.

The Lone Ranger knew that Duan Fei’s Profession was a Summoner, but Hyena and Anna did not.

They stared at Duan Fei, wide-eyed, and asked in confusion, "Where was this person before?"

"That’s not important. Everyone, meet our ace in the hole: Mr. Hancock!"

Hancock had been summoned by Duan Fei using a Character Card; he was merely a replica of the original.

But even as a replica, he still possessed his Superpower. His Level 5 ultimate luck was a secret weapon in a casino, perfect for Duan Fei to make a killing.

However, because he was summoned from a card, he could only exist for one hour. Furthermore, he could only be summoned three times per instance, with a mandatory cooldown of over 24 hours between each summons.

With Hancock in tow, Duan Fei and his group rushed into the largest casino in the area.

The glitzy, decadent casino was split into three levels: upper, middle, and lower.

The moment they stepped inside, the group could feel an oppressive aura of greed hanging over the casino.

Though times had changed, the greed and the desire to get something for nothing—both deeply rooted in human nature—remained, amplified by the ease of modern payment methods.

Here, thousands, even tens of thousands of Morality points flowed every second. The once-noble concept was now wrapped in layer after layer of the reek of money, until it developed a filthy patina of cash and became completely unrecognizable.

Watching the scene unfold, Duan Fei felt that whoever came up with this "Moral Code" system had to be a grandmaster of sarcasm. To attach the word "Morality" to such a disgusting system was the height of irony.

Anna used her own Morality to purchase chips, and chips representing two thousand Morality points were delivered to Duan Fei.

"Go easy on them. That’s the last of my savings."

"Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back double."

Duan Fei scanned the rows of gambling machines, constantly comparing their success rates.

With Hancock, the success rate for every machine jumped to over 100%.

At that point, anything over 100% was pure profit. And since Hancock would only be around for an hour, Duan Fei had to pick the machine with the highest rate of return.

After searching for a moment, Duan Fei finally spotted a machine.

He had Hancock sit down. But just as Duan Fei was about to tell him to start, an old man sidled up to them and teased, "That’s not gonna work, sonny. This slot machine has already paid out too much. It’s empty."

Letting Hancock start on his own, Duan Fei asked, "What do you mean by that?"

The old man reeked of alcohol, and his cybernetics were an outdated model.

Sipping cheap synthetic alcohol, the old man explained, "They only refill the machines after they’re empty, and always with the same amount of chips. This one was refilled this morning, but it paid out eighty percent of its stock by noon. It’s been running on the last twenty percent ever since. This kind of machine is what you call a ’trap.’ It’ll eat whatever you feed it and won’t spit much back out."

"You really know your stuff, old-timer," Duan Fei remarked.

"Naturally. I’ve been knocking around this place for decades. If there’s something you don’t know, just ask. Of course, it’s not free." The old man rubbed his hands together and made the universal gesture for money.

But Duan Fei just tilted his head and asked quizzically, "If you’re so successful, why are you after my money?"

"...Mentoring the younger generation is a hobby of mine."

"And turn them into someone just like you?"

"Master, you should respect your elders!" Yan Yuan whispered as a reminder.

’I don’t have much sympathy to begin with, and I have none to spare for a degenerate gambler.’

"That’s true."

The old man’s lips trembled at the retort. He gave a cold snort and prepared to leave.

Before he left, he shot a cold glance at Hancock, who was feeding chips into the machine. "Fine, you people can just..."

A sudden, cheerful jingle erupted from Hancock’s machine. A torrent of chips gushed out, overflowing the prize basket in an instant.

Amid the stunned and envious gazes of the crowd, Duan Fei called an attendant over to cash in the chips. Then he turned to the old man with a smile. "Sorry about that, old-timer. Looks like some ’experience’ is completely useless after all."

Downing the rest of the alcohol in his bottle in one gulp, the old man looked at Duan Fei. "Don’t get too cocky, kid. Want to make a bet with me?"

"What’s the wager?"

"Who wins more."

"Sure. Let’s start now. I’ll have my companion play for me. Time limit is twenty minutes. How about it?"

"Deal!"

"Then how about this: the winner gets to have the loser unconditionally fulfill one request?"

"As long as it doesn’t violate my principles and doesn’t involve killing anyone. Add those conditions, and I’m in."

"Done."

Smiling as he watched the old man walk away, Duan Fei helped Hancock pick a new machine and resumed gambling.

Perched on Duan Fei’s shoulder, Yan Yuan asked in confusion, "Master, why did you make that bet with him? It doesn’t seem like you to do something with no clear benefit."

"That old guy is different."

"How is he different?"

"Hard to say."

Duan Fei was fiddling with a slip of paper. On it, the success rate for a certain mission was steadily dropping.

Namely, the probability of leaving the casino alive.

Hancock’s luck was a little too good. He had won a massive pile of chips in just a few tries, which was something the casino did not want to see.

In just ten short minutes, Hancock had won nearly a million in chips. That level of efficiency had already attracted the casino’s attention, and they were starting to call in reinforcements.

As he kept adding the names of others to the calculation, Duan Fei saw the probability of escape drop to 50%.

But when he added the old man into the equation, he was shocked to see the success rate jump to 100%.

’So, who could that old man be?’

’In any case, he must be some incredible big shot.’

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