"I look forward to the many surprises you’ll bring."

It was an open conspiracy.

If someone else called all-in, the others at the table might not necessarily have played along.

But Zong Jiu was just a C-rank trainee, how sweet his voice would sound calling them senior, putting himself deferentially in the position of a junior; once he said it, it was like the nail in the coffin.

If even a junior had gone so far, wouldn't a senior lose face by not following suit?

Even that being the case, no one had expected that No. 1 would actually straight-up forfeit the game. Just as no one had expected that this C-rank would really not show any fear in the face of so many S-ranks, even secretly laying a trap.

Just when everyone thought that this bigshot was going to teach this white-haired C-rank a lesson, the scene that unfolded before their eyes had them stupefied again.

Beneath the golden dome, two figures—one black, one white—confronted each other by the gambling table.

The Devil, in a black suit, had one hand resting against the table, an unreadable smile on his face as he leaned slightly forward. There was an unspoken, suggestive note as he crowded into Zong Jiu's space; shrouded in darkness,

the Devil gave off a dangerously seductive air.

On the surface, the man was more like a well-dressed, refined professor with a heavy bookish air. It was a pity that the death and insanity in his movements betrayed him.

Not to mention that it was towards a C-rank newcomer; even were it was towards any reputable veteran, to those A-rank trainees, No. 1's actions would be the greatest glory and favour bestowed beyond their wildest imaginations.

The more desperate the environment, the more such twisted extremes of fanatical worship could be created, and the more people would want to draw spiritual strength from their faith.

This scene before them now was the best representation of this.

The countless stares on Zong Jiu nearly burnt a hole through his back.

The wrist, covered by a white glove, was drenched in explosive strength, making this rose appear all the more bright and lustrous.

Across from the rose, the white-haired young man's back was upright, his thin lips tightly pursed, his eyes dark.

In front of everyone, the present scene appeared like a senior expressing his appreciation, giving his encouragement and support to a junior.

Only Zong Jiu himself knew what a dangerous situation he was in.

The high shadows cast down were mixed with a malice so deep that it stole the breath away, a chilling murderous aura that drove straight down the forehead into the skull like a sharp blade, making the scalp tingle.

No matter how terrifying the killing intent of the person opposite him was, Zong Jiu's expression seemed without the slightest ripple.

Leaving aside, of course, that his muscles were already taut with the instinctive physical reactions in the face of extreme danger.

The man laughed softly. "How interesting. I thought that it was no more than two identical opening hands, at first. I never imagined that you were still holding on to such a surprise."

"I'm starting to believe in that prophecy."

No. 1's voice was low and silky, like a bow on the bass strings of a cello. "After all this time, you're the first who dares to threaten me."

Not only was Zong Jiu the first, he was also the one who excited him the most, making his icy blood thrum.

Like a child finding a new toy, the Devil's icy, dark golden eyes were brimming with interest, all his boredom and disinterest in this match swept clean, itching to have a go.

Zong Jiu still had yet to speak. But he could sense the 'I'll kill you on the spot if you don't take it' subtext from the other.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, he finally reached out stiffly to reluctantly take the red rose.

The murderous aura instantly vanished.

The man showed a satisfied smile.

Even without any malicious or killing intent, Zong Jiu could still feel the sheer terror of the intangible pressure that constricted the air, strangling his throat and spinal cord.

His body was using all the stress reactions it could to illustrate to him how terrifying the man before him was.

Zong Jiu's pupils were shivering.

Not out of fear; in fact, he had never experienced such an emotion as fear before.

The white-haired young man was equally excited, unconsciously so. Because for the first time, he had met his match in a game of chess, encountering a formidable foe. Also because of the thrill and adrenaline of walking on the cusp of death.

A thorn easily pierced into his porcelain white fingers from the force.

Crimson blood snaked down from the ferocious wound that even the man himself hadn't noticed, running slowly in rivulets along the raised blue veins on his fair skin, carving out an uncannily beautiful image of creeping vines, more gorgeous and visually impactful than the red of the rose petals.

The man stepped forward, looking down at him as he tapped the white-haired young man's fingers, immediately drawing back with a touch as light as a feather.

The spotlessly white gloves were stained with a rousingly striking spot of blood that slowly haloed outwards.

Narrowing his eyes, the Devil slowly removed his gloves, suddenly lowering his head to murmur by Zong Jiu's ear.

A few strands of black hair brushed contradictorily against the shoulder of the white-haired man.

"I look forward to the many surprises you'll bring in the future."

The skin on the fingertip that the glove had touched was smooth and even.

The wound had vanished.

—

After No. 1 left, the entire casino was abuzz with excitement.

Unlike before, this time the thousands of scorching eyes falling on the white-haired young man were earnest.

They didn't know what No. 1 did, but the two of them were the only ones privy to the last bit of the conversation.

So, everyone was able to watch the entirety of the earlier scene, which was that that powerful man personally gifted his trademark to the white-haired newcomer, and the newcomer had cut his finger on the rose in his excitement. The Devil then deigned to heal him, fully expressing his appreciation for the other.

"What on earth was that, does that bigshot

really admire this newcomer so much…"

People freely conversed with each other in whispers, and the more zealous admirers didn't hide their immense jealousy. "He's a mere C-rank, what right does he have to be in No. 1's good graces?"

"No more than C-rank trash, how can he be deserving of No. 1's attention?"

"I know right. He acted up so much back then, first Fight the Landlord then Texas Hold'em, and it turned out that he was gunning for this."

"Guys, think carefully. If any of you could take such an opportunity to make an impression in front of No. 1, even if just a little bit leaks out of your fingers, you'll surely have nothing to worry about in the future."

Zong Jiu's status in the eyes of the veterans only used to be that of a rising newcomer that needed to be knocked to the ground. Now, after those actions, even No. 1's followers had come to see him as a thorn in their side.

No one knew at which point did the Devil become a legend. But, for however long that any contenders in the infinite loop knew of him, his unattainable position far above the clouds had been cemented.

For so many years, he had always been high and untouchable, cruel and ruthless, never showing any interest in anyone that was

remotely close to anything friendly.

But now, this was broken by a lowly C-rank trainee.

In the eyes of those who worshipped him as a god, it was tantamount to crossing a boundary. No one was willing for a god to step down from the altar, and a god wouldn't make such mistakes, so all their jealousy-induced hatred was transferred to Zong Jiu.

It was hard to tell whether the Devil had intentionally done so, but Zong Jiu had never been shy about guessing his intentions with the utmost malice. Even if it wasn't intentional, he would probably still find the show entertaining.

However, in this roaring discourse, the white-haired young man stood completely still, keeping his posture.

Gazing at the rose in his hand, he smiled inwardly.

The reason that Zong Jiu could be so calm earlier was because he knew very well that No. 1 had his hands tied at this time.

Although the trainees were competing against each other, the system had announced an ironclad rule that trainees were prohibited from killing each other at the beginning of the competition, which was also where Zong Jiu's confidence stemmed from.

And the other's subsequent actions made Zong Jiu even more certain that he was correct, or the Devil would have shown his hand instead of choosing to directly forfeit the game. Following this line of reasoning, the tidbit that [The instructor is No. 1] was unquestionably of considerable weight.

Without a doubt, this was Zong Jiu's win. Not only had he won, he had also won exceptionally beautifully.

The only thing to be said right now was the cost of this comeback.

The information on the instructor threatened the Devil, but at the same time, exposed Zong Jiu himself.

The worst part was that the weight of this secret was obviously beyond heavy.

And as everyone knew, only the dead didn't speak. Not only was Zong Jiu still alive, he was still jumping and kicking.

One could only imagine what kind of tempest he would have to weather in the coming days.

But Zong Jiu, naturally, would still choose to retaliate with his knowledge of No. 1's sockpuppet, regain the ground he lost, to lead him to this expected conclusion.

Just based on him bludgeoning the doctor to death with a hammer in the mental asylum and the instructor subsequently giving him an F-rating, there was no way of wiping the slate clean. In any case, the prophecy already foretold them to be mortal enemies, added alongside the feud that had been set in stone.

Zong Jiu couldn't care less about that. He had a vindictive character by nature that demanded revenge for even the smallest grievance, and he believed that the Devil, too, wasn't any virtuous being of great magnanimity.

Regardless, Zong Jiu still had the tarot deck in his hands. He wasn't frightened in the slightest.

Most importantly, all of it paid off.

Because that was a whole million chips! One million!

Las Vegas chips and survival points had a one-to-one exchange rate. With these chips, not only could Zong Jiu restore his hands, but he could even enhance them to the apex of human limits, far beyond what they were once capable of.

Even from way back in the room, Zong Jiu had already decided what to do.

With a million chips, he didn't even have to talk about his hands. A magician's dynamic vision was also important, and he could enhance his eyes to the peak level. Then he would strengthen his physical power and fistfighting; he had distinctly felt the gap when trading blows with Zhuge An in the washroom of the mental asylum back then; enhancement was the difference between heaven and earth, and he definitely couldn't allow himself to lose out in this aspect.

As for the remaining chips, after deducting Zong Jiu's life wager and prop mortgage, he still had enough leftover to trade for props.

Some of the available props up for redemption in Las Vegas were really interesting. Zong Jiu had taken note of them from early on.

One of them was called [Strange Black Box], which was a considerably unremarkable A-rank prop.

This prop was rather interesting. As long as the owner could imagine it, they could take out whatever they wanted from it at any time, any place.

In actuality, the system backpack also had this function. Unfortunately, only special props could be put into the system backpack, and anything else had to be relinquished.

What could be taken out of the Black Box was limited to ordinary items, such as rope, scissors, kitchen knives, candles, etc. Like Zong Jiu's tarot deck, it also had a cooldown.

Although it wasn't an offensive-based prop and its functionality was quite chickenshit, it could be said to be tailor made for magicians.

As the Black Box could be accessed at any time, any place, it was equivalent to having a portable pocket dimension, and Zong Jiu could take whatever item from anywhere within the second.

Everyone knew that magicians needed to do preparatory work before their tricks. With the Black Box, Zong Jiu could begin his performance wherever and whenever he wanted, which was practically a household and travel essential, and a magician's boon.

The second prop was called [Substitution Doll], likewise an A-rank prop.

Compared to the unremarkable Black Box, the Substitution Doll was basically at the top of every thriller trainee's wishlist.

No other reason than the special function of this prop. It could ward off a fatal crisis for its owner when running up against a life-and-death situation.

Although the Substitution Doll was a single-use consumable item, it was still the equivalent of having an extra life!

Take a sampling of all the special props that had previously appeared in the infinite loop. Except for the [Book of the Dead] that once appeared in Rameses, an S-rank instance, there had never been another item that could safeguard a contender's life.

The [Book of the Dead] was an S-rank item.

After the death of its former owner, no one amongst millions upon millions of contenders held it, only leaving behind sparse records of

its existence.

Now that such a precious prop had appeared, it was natural that everyone coveted it.

As the system was only keen on babying the newcomers, setting huge markdown sales on E and F-rank props like cheap cabbages sold by the roadside; the higher the rank, the more startling the chips required, and this was especially so for the Substitution Doll, a treasure of this casino.

While they were both A-rank props, the Substitution Doll was more than twice as expensive as the Black Box.

Based on his original plan, even if he had made a huge profit, at most he could only redeem a Black Box before having to stay his hand.

After all, everyone knew that body enhancement was the most expensive.

That was why, from the beginning, Zong Jiu actually never had included this doll in his list of must-haves.

But he never expected that the Devil would insist on sending him warmth in the winter, and all of a sudden, a million chips popped up, allowing all the planned and unplanned exchanges for enhancements to be arranged in a go. Much joy, much joy.

Since even that greatest, most venerated god didn't go into a rage, the others lost any right to say otherwise.

After receiving the platinum gold card respectfully handed to him by the dealer dressed in purple, Zong Jiu was calm on the surface, but blossoming with joy in his heart.

The golden-haired Holy Son rose from his seat, a radiant smile on his face.

"Congratulations, little brother."

From the side, the Exorcist gave him a few words of pleasantries, leaving together with Black-Robed Azan.

The glares that those two A-ranks had on him almost swallowed him alive. It was only a pity that despite being in the mood to, no one would dare to mess with Zong Jiu, a guy who had, on the surface, won the favour of a bigshot. So, they sent him a final vicious look and turned to leave as well.

Only one person didn't leave.

The man in full military uniform stood up, his heavy cloak raised behind him and the hilt of the sabre shining with cold light. The shadow of the brim of his cap cast an on the deep contours of his profile, giving him an almost inhumane appearance.

He walked up to Zong Jiu, his reserved face as cold as before.

"You've changed significantly."

Van Zhuo gazed deeply at the white-haired young man, his eyes pausing imperceptibly on the almost dried blood on his fingertips, his dark red eyes turning two shades darker, and he left without a single turn of his head back.

If it weren't for this look, Zong Jiu would almost have forgotten that No. 2 was a half-vampire.

Coming to this thought, he moved his hand slightly to the back; the rose made a casual turn between his fingertips, and he swiftly

brought it before the dealer with a flourish.

The bullet chat exploded.

[Hold up. This isn't what I'm thinking, right???]

[That's the Devil's rose, the Devil's??!! Is he really intending to gift it away like this?]

[Nonononono. I dare guarantee that even if he hadn't provoked No. 1 earlier, this would definitely do it. This white-haired newcomer is an expert at courting death, seriously, no one can beat him at it.]

[Upstairs, what are you thinking? It's impossible, how can he have the guts to go up against the Devil?]

But, fact-check, Zong Jiu did have the guts.

"Beautiful lady."

The white-haired young man smiled. "It's the lucky hand you dealt me that won me victory. I think you deserve this more than I do."

It was the sweetest pleasure going up against the Devil. Getting a million chips in one shot, he'd love to go a couple more rounds, come at me bro.