There Must Be Something Wrong With This Game!

Twenty minutes later, the old man looked at the chips he’d won, then at the chips Hancock had won, and sighed. "I can’t believe you actually won just a tiny bit more than me. A truly respectable opponent."

Yan Yuan looked at the old man and whispered, "This old man is an incredible mathematician, single-handedly redefining the distance between one million and zero as ’a tiny bit.’"

"A million might seem like a lot, but on a cosmic scale, it’s really quite small," the old man rationalized.

’What a shameless bastard! Did he grow up eating leather? He’s so thick-skinned!’

The old man, his patience worn thin, finally snapped, "Young man, your pet is quite rude. Doesn’t it know how to respect an old man?"

Yan Yuan scoffed. "Hah. Do you have any idea who I am? This flesh is merely a vessel my master created. My true form is an entity that has steeped in the sea of consciousness for over a million years, a being of incomparable time and experience. In my presence, the history you embody is less than dust."

The old man was left speechless and could only change the subject in defeat. "Fine, you win. So, what are your terms?"

"Protect us on our way out of here," Duan Fei stated immediately.

"That’s it?"

"That’s it."

The old man looked at Duan Fei, puzzled. The request seemed far too simple.

But just then, a burly man walked over and whispered in the old man’s ear.

Nodding, he took the earpiece the man handed him and put it in his ear.

"Lear-san..."

"Don’t call me ’-san,’" Lear said, exasperated. "I’m not Japanese, I’m Chinese. Why can’t you people ever tell the difference?"

"My apologies, Mr. Lear. But the boss has given an order. Could we ask you to detain the two individuals before you?"

Lear covered the earpiece, narrowing his eyes at Duan Fei and Hancock.

His eyes were somewhat clouded, and his hands trembled when he wasn’t drinking—the early symptoms of alcohol-induced cyberpsychosis.

Although his five senses were failing, he was confident his judgment remained as sharp as ever.

He prided himself most on this judgment; he could take the measure of any man after just a few words, sizing up their depth and character.

’But this guy... I can’t get a read on him at all.’

Especially the way Duan Fei had used the bet as bait, preemptively locking him into a deal. That move, bordering on prophetic, filled him with curiosity about the young man.

The old man gave a slight smile. "No."

"Why not!" the voice on the other end of the earpiece grew urgent. "You’re the boss’s guest! You’re supposed to help him!"

"Sorry, they hired me first."

Crushing the earpiece, the old man patted his right arm, which unfolded from the side to reveal a razor-sharp Mantis Blade.

Unlike the rest of his antiquated cybernetics, the old man’s Mantis Blade was clearly a cut above. The quality of its craftsmanship and its edge were in a league of their own.

Seeing the deployed Mantis Blade, the bodyguard took a few steps back before grabbing his radio and rapidly issuing commands.

A moment later, several mercenaries and security guards appeared, slowly closing in on Lear.

Even though he was the boss’s guest, they didn’t think the old man could pose much of a threat.

His cybernetics were an outdated model, and he looked to be in his seventies. With a mind ravaged by alcohol, he could barely keep the blade steady. There was no way he could beat them.

So, there was no need to clear out the patrons. If the dozen or so of them just rushed him at once, they could easily take him down.

"You’re thinking I’m old, aren’t you? Too old to even cut a man down anymore."

The old man said, smiling.

The guard, startled that the old man had read his mind, gave a slight nod and quietly took a fighting stance. "Sorry, but please keep it down."

"One."

The word was barely out of his mouth when the guard felt something slice clean through him.

His cybernetic lower body went numb, and his torso slid to the floor. He could only stare blankly as the old man stepped over him.

’When...?’

The old man snatched a bottle of liquor from a nearby table, bit off the cork, and spat it out. He took a long swig as he dodged a guard’s attack, then sliced the man from the side.

The blade sliced through his spine. Even heavily armored, the vertebrae offered no resistance to the Mantis Blade. The old man severed it as easily as a hot knife through butter.

"Two."

Exhaling a cloud of alcohol-laced breath, he met the charge of a guard who had been lying in wait. A head flew into the air, landing with a soft thud in a pile of chips on a nearby table.

"Three."

He ducked his head, dodging a big man’s hook, and slipped behind him. A light tap from the Mantis Blade’s tip to the back of the man’s neck was all it took. The control chip there sparked, and the giant crumpled to the floor.

"Four."

The old man’s movements seemed slow, yet were blindingly fast. He moved like a drunk, stumbling through the crowd, yet miraculously, he never touched a single bystander.

It was as if he had a perfect map of everyone’s line of sight and position in his head. Every step fell in a blind spot, and he never faced more than one opponent at a time.

He slowly broke down the large group of more than a dozen men, drawing them into his rhythm until, one by one, they became his prey.

It was a classic example of one man surrounding a crowd.

His attacks were elegant, targeting only one person at a time. His movements were nearly silent, leaving nothing but a trail of crumpled guards in his wake.

He made a slow circuit of the casino floor, returning to Duan Fei’s side without a single patron even noticing anything was amiss. He smiled. "Seventeen."

"Damn, sir. That was something else," Duan Fei said, impressed.

"Well, I guess you didn’t get to be that old for nothing," Yan Yuan remarked.

"You really need to rein in your bird," Lear frowned, but then his expression softened. "Although, I have to say I kind of like its untamable spirit."

"Just you wait! I can be way more cocky than this!"

"Is that so? I look forward to it."

Retracting his Mantis Blade, the old man followed the pair, unhurriedly cashed in his chips, and left the casino, heading outside.

Hancock had vanished without a trace. The old man glanced at the spot where Hancock had been, nodding slightly.

’Mm, a Descender.’

’So, I’m fighting alongside a Descender again,’ the old man mused. ’I wonder what kind of adventure this will be.’

The blood in his veins, long dormant, began to sing. The thrill of a life lived on the edge of death and slaughter swept over him like a gale, and for the first time in a long while, a true smile broke out on Lear’s face.

"Say, young man."

"Yes, sir?"

"The casino was basically keeping me. But now that I’ve stepped in to help you, I’m temporarily out of a place to stay. I was wondering if you’d be willing to hire an old man? I don’t ask for much—just a steady supply of alcohol is enough. My stomach’s been modified. I can live on the stuff."

’Duan Fei looked at the old man, his mind already racing, plugging him into the variables of various missions. With him, the success rate of any of them would skyrocket.’

’My luck is as good as always.’

Without further hesitation, Duan Fei grasped the old man’s hand and said earnestly, "Welcome aboard."

"You’re agreeing just like that? Aren’t you worried I might be a spy?"

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then we’re good. Come on, let’s go meet my partners."

Watching Duan Fei’s retreating back, Lear nodded.

’Trust those you employ, and don’t employ those you distrust. This kid’s got talent.’

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