As an old gambling addict, the original owner knew full well that this chip was genuine. Its weight and texture were impeccable. The gold-stamped words "Ten Thousand" on its surface reflected the light spilling over from nearby, giving off a peculiar sheen. From certain angles, he could vaguely make out the laser-engraved anti-counterfeiting markings.
Ten thousand bucks was no small sum. This chip could be taken straight to the tables or exchanged for cash of equal value—though the two-percent handling fee only applied when exchanging cash for chips, not the other way around.
The original owner was filled with doubt. He had no idea why a chip with such a high denomination would appear in the shaft... Could it have been dropped by one of the missing people?
But what decent person would take casino chips out of a casino?
Ordinary players either quit while they were ahead, cashed out their chips, and left, or they lost everything like the original owner and got "escorted" out by security. As for wealthy VIP clients, they generally stored their chips in the casino vault after they were done playing, taking them out again the next time they came.
But no matter what, these ten thousand bucks were already in his pocket...
The original owner felt a surge of excitement. The reward for this mission was only a hundred thousand bucks, yet a single chip he picked up at random was worth a tenth of that... If he found a few more later...
"What are you doing?" A displeased voice yanked the original owner brutally out of his pleasant fantasies. He jolted, instinctively wanting to hide the chip in his hand—but he quickly realized that she did not seem to see the chip lying in his palm at all. Instead, she was staring