He Zhao had no idea about the rumors flying all over District 780, because he had just finished tallying up the gains from this round of "robbing the rich to help the poor."
Otherwise, he would definitely have echoed the crowd of onlookers: You're right. The Smugglers' losses really did reach tens of billions of Star Coins.
Aside from the first high-end restaurant, which had provided roughly a hundred jin of Star Beast Flesh and Blood worth one hundred thousand Star Coins per gram, the remaining six added up to a total of two hundred seventy-seven point five jin.
"Three hundred seventy-seven and a half jin."
377.5 jin = 188,750 grams 188,750 grams X 100,000 = 18,875,000,000
"Eighteen billion, eight hundred seventy-five million Star Coins."
"Hiss—"
After calculating the price, he could not help sucking in a cold breath.
It was only three hundred-something jin of Star Beast Flesh and Blood, yet it was actually worth nearly twenty billion Star Coins.
Sure enough, robbing restaurants was better than robbing money.
Come to think of it, after those Smugglers finished calculating their losses, wouldn't they go insane?
His guess was not wrong. The merchant who had suffered the heaviest losses had already gone completely mad.
To Smugglers who valued wealth as much as life, suddenly losing several billion Star Coins was no less than the murder of their father. No, it should be called the extermination of their entire family—one where, right in front of them, someone sliced the flesh off every member of their family piece by piece and fed it to dogs while they were at it.
"What a pity. There actually wasn't any Star Beast Flesh and Blood worth over a million per gram in the cold storage. A bunch of grand Smuggling bosses can't even compare to