Smoke and alcohol, noise and excitement—in the midst of the revelry, Boss Boston slowly shifted the cards in his hand.
Baccarat was a simple card game, and also the one most beloved by gamblers.
"The banker wins."
Yet with the dealer's merciless verdict, Boss Boston could only sweep all the cards in front of him away in dejection. After throwing down his last chips, he left in a fury.
Without a doubt, he had not only gained nothing that night, but had even lost everything—including the fifty thousand Arno had just transferred to him.
"Shit!"
Boss Boston slammed a fist into the wall beside him, feeling unbearably irritated. At that moment, he was completely penniless.
Boss Boston hurried out of the private casino, but in the alley outside, he happened upon members of another gang selling drugs.
Boston's appearance immediately made the two men on the selling side tense and vicious. As for the customer buying the drugs, he panicked and fled at once.
"Hey, don't get nervous. I'm just passing by." Boston raised his hands slightly.
"Friend, you just ruined a deal for us. Do you know how much we lost?" one of the men sneered.
Boston's gaze sharpened, and he spotted a small sealed bag on the ground—a strange blue powder that the panicked customer had dropped.
Boston could only curse his bad luck inwardly. He knew exactly what these two were selling here—because he himself was also one of the dealers of this drug. It was just that, because of Arno's prohibition, he had not sold much of the batch he had obtained back then.
Two against one. The two men clearly had no intention of chatting with Boston, and immediately attacked him, beating him viciously.
But Boston was, after all, the best fighter in his gang.