Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...
Years of Heartflutter · Page 451 of 501
The dealer's eyes widened too, staring at Yang Ce in disbelief. "Sir, this is the main hall. You should be in the VIP room."
"What, you won't take my bet because I've got too much money?" Yang Ce sneered. "Or is it that you can't afford to pay if you lose?"
The last thing a casino wanted to hear was a guest saying they couldn't afford to pay. The moment Yang Juehuan spoke, the dealer's face flushed red, and he hurried to explain, "Of course not, sir. It's just that your chips are a bit too large."
"What, you don't have the authority? Then find someone who does," Yang Ce snorted coldly.
In fact, the dealer did not need to fetch anyone—the floor manager in the hall had already noticed what was happening and was striding over. One look at the chips on the table and he understood exactly what was going on.
The rule for betting on big or small at the South City Casino was one-to-one-point-five: put down a thousand, and if you won you got back fifteen hundred, principal and profit together. Which meant that no matter how things shook out, it was basically the house that made the money.
After all, there were always punters on both big and small, and the two sides came out roughly even, so the books balanced. What was rare, though, was someone like Yang Cenbin putting it all on one side—let alone with a hundred-million-yuan stack of chips.
To be continued
870. What Is a God of Gamblers?
870 What Is a God of Gamblers? Yang Ce's play had scared Wang Mei and Zhang Bin half to death. A gamble on this scale was something you would not see often in any casino. Even Huang Yan was taken aback.
"Yang Ce, what are you doing? Are you sure you can win?" Huang Yan asked him in a low voice.
"Probably." Yang Ce's answer was vague, because he could not speak with certainty—otherwise it would be hard to explain. To distract Huang Yan, Yang Puqi pulled her over and sat her down on his lap.
The Yang Ce of this moment looked very much like one of those free-spending high rollers on television, a beauty in his arms as he threw down a fortune.
"Sir, with stakes this large, wouldn't you rather play upstairs? It's crowded down here, and you'll be spoiling the other guests' entertainment." The floor manager came over and spoke with great deference.
"Spare me the useless talk. I've placed my bet—where does it say I can't play downstairs?" Yang Mo said with some impatience. "Or are you afraid to open it?"
The floor manager was rather helpless at Yang Juehuan's words. True enough, no rule anywhere said a man could not play downstairs. So he threw the dealer a look and said, "Open it."
Seeing the floor manager's consent, the dealer tremblingly lifted the bowl cover. One, one, three—five points, small. Just as Yan had seen before.
Changing the dice numbers while lifting the bowl cover was something that happened only on television; in real life it was next to impossible unless you resorted to high-tech tricks. But once someone caught you at it, the casino's reputation would hit rock bottom, and it might even go bankrupt—so no casino would risk such games.
The dealer's face changed at once. The floor manager was shocked too, though he did not show much emotion. He merely said, "Sir, you've won."
A cheer went up from the crowd. Just like that, he had won fifty million, and everyone cast envious looks at Yang Ce. But they saw only the profit before their eyes; none of them stopped to think that if Yang Ce had lost, that hundred million would have gone down the drain.
"Oh, let's continue." Yang Yongjin unhurriedly took the chips he had won and said to the dice-shaking dealer.
The dealer looked at the floor manager in some difficulty. The floor manager nodded to him, and only then did the dealer go on shaking the dice: "All right, place your bets, hands off."
The dealer clapped the bowl cover down on the table and called out to the gamblers on all four sides. But his voice was noticeably trembling.