"Heh heh, no need to mind, young brother." Marquis Qin said with a face full of smiles. Before Yang Yi could speak, he confidently asserted, "I see this young brother has excellent luck tonight. I wonder if you'd be interested in joining me for a few rounds? Of course, if young brother finds it difficult, I certainly won't press the issue!"

"After everything has been said, how can one possibly refuse?"

This was the very first thought that flashed through everyone's mind, naturally excluding Yang Yi and his companions.

Some people, some words, once uttered, seal the deal. Even though the invitation was framed as being without coercion, the underlying implication carried a weight that would prick the ears of any recipient, especially the person at the center of it.

"Since the Marquis extends such a generous invitation, this young master must certainly oblige," Yang Yi replied. He had his own agenda in mind, and now that the invitation had arrived, there was no reason for him to decline.

"Good, spirited fellow." Marquis Qin waved his hand grandly and asked with enthusiasm, "May I ask this young brother's name?"

"This young master's surname is Yang, given name Yi!" Yang Yi showed no hesitation in revealing his name, instead offering it with clear directness.

"So, Brother Yang, I see!" Marquis Qin turned to the imposing man in black by his side and commanded, "Immediately prepare the chips for Brother Yang!"

"Yes, my Lord Marquis."

"Brother Yang!" Marquis Qin called out to Yang Yi with surprising familiarity, yet beneath the smile lay a vast expanse of falsehood. Waving his hand, he said, "This way, please!"

"Heh heh," Yang Yi offered a faint smile and followed him upstairs.

The gamblers remaining below were utterly astonished. Although such developments were not uncommon in a gambling hall, seeing Marquis Qin show such warmth was truly unprecedented.

"Hoo, hoo, finally got that walking disaster of a god off our hands. Once he's handed over to the Marquis, my job is done. Good—time to rally my spirits," the croupier muttered to himself as he watched Yang Yi ascend to the second floor.

And so, on the second floor, Tian She had already prepared a private gaming arrangement. The spacious private room held six people gathered around a table. Among them were three foreigners—one Englishman, one American, and one Black man—and one Japanese man, and one Korean man. It was clear that this game had been set up well in advance, involving people from various nations, with only two or three Chinese individuals now being added to the mix.

Furthermore, anyone gambling in this room undoubtedly possessed significant wealth and standing. The decoration of the room and the chips visible on the table rivaled the presidential suites in the hotel. The only difference was that here, one could watch the football leagues, and cameras monitored every corner. Most critically, the chips on the table were all denominations of U.S. currency, each valued at one hundred million dollars or more.

"Please, come in!" Marquis Qin gestured for Yang Yi and his party.

The group of four, bringing a total of one hundred and fifty million dollars (including Fatty Lin's share), stepped inside and took their seats.

"Allow me to introduce everyone. This is Yang Yi, Brother Yang. I have invited him to join us for some mutual entertainment," Marquis Qin said with a subtle smile.

Upon first laying eyes on Yang Yi, the six people immediately displayed looks of disdain, particularly the Japanese man cradling a woman in his lap and the Englishman having his back massaged by a beauty. However, when their gaze shifted to the two stunning women accompanying Yang Yi, a fleeting flicker of carnal desire inadvertently crossed their eyes.

The bolder ones, the American and the Black man, actually stood up simultaneously. The Black man performed some obscure African ritual, clasping his hands over his chest: "Oh, praise the divine Lord! To see such beautiful holy maidens in my lifetime!"

"Bullshit!" Hearing the Black man's words, Yang Yi and Fatty Lin simultaneously cursed inwardly, as if their rogue natures had suddenly surfaced, glaring at the Black man’s display of mock piety with contempt.

But just as Yang Yi and Fatty Lin finished their silent condemnation, the ensuing actions nearly made them both want to beat the American man to a pulp. The American dropped to one knee before Xuanyuan Bing, attempting to seize her hand. When Xuanyuan Bing successfully evaded his grasp, he adopted a pitiful expression, clutching his chest and proclaiming, "Oh, my God, dear Miss, you are simply too beautiful..."

"Heh heh, Mr. John, perhaps we should start the games first?" Marquis Qin did not state his meaning explicitly, but the implication was clear. He was aware these two were notorious playboys and wealthy men; unable to afford offending either of them while also needing to placate Yang Yi, he could only offer this subtle reminder to the American man.

"...Marquis!" The American man's Mandarin seemed fairly good, but it drew chilling glares from both Yang Yi and Fatty Lin.

Consequently, Xuanyuan Bing and Feng Shi merely stood behind Yang Yi, refusing to offer even a sliver of courtesy to the African man or the American.

Yet, it must be acknowledged that while these two were indeed playboys, they had at least expressed their infatuation openly. In Yang Yi’s mind, such men were hardly worth the trouble. The truly sinister ones were those who masked their desire while scheming relentlessly to possess the beautiful women. Consequently, whether it was Yang Yi, Feng Shi, or even Fatty Lin, they all stared with stony expressions.

However, the Korean man here ignored Feng Shi and Xuanyuan Bing. Instead, his eyes swept over Yang Yi and Fatty Lin, leaving one to wonder what occupied his thoughts. Overall, he seemed to have some prior impression of Yang Yi and Fatty Lin.

"Marquis, may I ask why you invited these people here? Looking at how they are dressed, and that smell, whatever it is..." A Japanese man, not only judging by appearance but showing extreme contempt for Yang Yi and his group, pushed away the woman he had been holding, covered his nose, and complained, "The smell is so pungent!"

"Damn dog..."

"Fatty," A cold glint flashed in Yang Yi's eyes—a coldness that Tian She, who had been observing Yang Yi silently since their entry, caught instantly, causing him to inwardly exclaim, "What a dangerous feeling."

"Hmph, truly refined," the Japanese man sneered back, his face full of scorn.

Marquis Qin’s expression soured slightly. After all, he had invited these guests, but he also could not afford to offend the Japanese man. As the person overseeing the venue, Marquis Qin understood that the casino's interests must come first in any situation. The people frequenting a high-stakes establishment like this were not like those in the smaller joints. In a minor casino, a confrontation like this might already have resulted in the Japanese man lying on the ground, bleeding, and it wouldn't be entirely unexpected.

"Refinement is not discussed with dogs, which is why you perceive him as lacking refinement!" Yang Yi’s mouth curved into an expression of infinite amusement, his eyes locked onto the Japanese man with a playful smile.

"Haha! Did you hear that!"

Hearing Yang Yi’s retort, Fatty Lin’s laughter was undoubtedly the loudest, while the others merely smiled outwardly, laughing within their bellies.

"You... Baka!" Before the word was fully out—

"Smack!" A crisp sound echoed.

The Japanese man froze, and everyone else was momentarily stunned. The greatest surprise fell upon Tian She and the Korean man.

Feeling the burning sting on his cheek, the enraged Japanese man jumped to his feet, one hand fumbling somewhere near his face, his mouth forming the beginning of a word: "Ba—"

"Smack!" This time, before he could even finish or react to the action, a foot—which appeared slow but was actually incredibly fast—connected solidly, "Thud!" Sending the man and his chair flying toward the doorway.

"Damn your ancestors! In our vast China, you dare utter such filth?"

Without needing to think, the swift kicker was Fatty Lin. He snatched a handgun lying on the floor, pointed it at the still-cowering Japanese man, and pulled the trigger, "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

"Ah... Ah!" The women in the room screamed, covering their ears in fright.

The Japanese man curled into a fetal position, covering his head, writhing slightly, making muffled, whimpering sounds.

"Come on, come on! Fuck your mother!" Fatty Lin clearly lacked Yang Yi’s composure. Once this guy got worked up, all sorts of vulgarities spilled out. If Yang Yi hadn't always instructed him, he might have been even worse.

Marquis Qin proved himself a seasoned veteran of many years managing such places and navigating the underworld. He was the second person to recover from the sudden chaos. He immediately turned to Fatty Lin, offering an apology: "Brother..."

Before Marquis Qin could finish speaking, Yang Yi raised his hand, signaling him to stop, and fixed the Marquis with a smiling gaze. "I advise the Marquis not to interfere. Although we may just be simple folk from the mountains, and this is our first time gambling here, we are still Chinese, and we have practiced a few moves in martial arts. That son of a bitch dared to show such contempt toward us, so he certainly deserves a lesson. Didn't the great Chairman Mao say? If others strike you with a stick, you return ten rods."

"This..." Marquis Qin was genuinely taken aback. He wasn't shocked by the sudden violence, but rather by Yang Yi's composed demeanor and the casual mention of having practiced martial arts. The first question immediately surfaced in his mind: "Could they perhaps be connected to the underworld?"