Chapter 12

Merlin pinned her wish to turn over from the salted fish on this horse betting roll, hoping that she could rely on "unmatched" luck to complete the anti-kill in life.

He feels that he can win today. Various signs indicate that he is extraordinary. His left eyelid jumps wildly, the number 6 is auspicious, and he has good luck riding his face. Tell me how to lose?!

The origin of this horse betting roll is also extraordinary. Gentlemen in Great Britain have a habit of throwing change on the ground deliberately in the park. Then the poor who need it can pick up a few more copper coins and buy bread.

But Merlin was quite different. He spent one night scouring the park where homeless people gathered, and found more than one hundred copper coins, equivalent to one silver coin, and bought all the horse betting rolls of the Royal Racecourse.

Merlin is a standard gambler. He would rather starve to death than bet on horses. The idea in his mind is

Although the odds are slim, it is the only chance for me to change my life. As long as it is not 0%, there is a gamble value!

emmmm, all gamblers have this idea, and basically the pants are entered at the end.

The magic projector broadcasted the situation of the racecourse. A full 24 horses were locked up in a cage, ready to attack quickly. Many hot young ladies danced on it, and life was full of excitement.

Merlin clung to the horse betting roll, looked at the No. 6 brown horse, and prayed in his heart, ** Dad, give the No. 6 iron!Don't worry!

"This guest, can you pay the money first?" The restaurant owner was still worried that Merlin would not pay the bill. He was undoubtedly a gambler.

"What's the rush?" Merlin felt that he was already a millionaire, and she was shaking when she spoke. He shook the horse betting scroll in his hand and said, "I am a millionaire, tell me Be polite, don't talk about the money for the meal, when I win the prize, this restaurant is mine."

"You... continue." The restaurant owner chuckled, his moustache trembling, thinking that the gamblers all over the world are like bears, and wanting to stand up and sing.

The two wretched uncles next to the beer seemed to be betting on horses, so they started chatting.

"No. 4 is very stable this time."

"No, the number 8 is better, with a high hit rate."

"Fuck your mother's shit! Obviously No. 6 is the best!" Merlin was unhappy, and swearing at him, she was really a grumpy gambler.

"No, on the 6th, I have always had stomach troubles in the last few games, and it slowed down halfway through." The white-faced uncle grinned.

"It seems to be true, just like eating a croton, the back of the ass is like a small rocket, puff puff..." The red-faced uncle's mouth was full of grin.

"Fuck your mother's banana peel! On the 6th today, I absolutely take drugs and regain my power in the arena. If I don't win the first prize, I will live the fucking shit!" Merlin suddenly raised the flag flag on his head, trying to prove it. "If you don't do it, you won't die" curse.

The two uncles drank beer, shook their heads and laughed without saying a word, and waited for Meilin's live broadcast.

The live betting race is about to start, and the straight track is cleared.

"The fifty-seventh game of the Royal Racecourse is about to begin. This game is exclusively sponsored by the London Holmes Detective Agency!" The hostess yelled vigorously.

Go away, gay guys, get started!

Merlin retired anxiously, as anxious as a student receiving a report card, waiting before the game is the most terrible, for every gambler, it is like a year.

"Game start!!"

With the sound of a musket "bang", the stable door was opened.

Twenty-four fierce horses neighed and galloped on the straight track.

Our hero Merlin

Can the salted fish stand up with the help of a gamble?