With a tremendous bang, Wu Kun was sent flying back once again, crashing heavily onto another intact gambling table.
With a crisp crack, the undamaged gambling table was instantly smashed to pieces.
This time, Wu Kun lay facedown on the floor and could not get up for a long while. He suddenly coughed up several mouthfuls of blood, staining the front of his clothes red. His face grew even paler, and his breathing became rapid.
Seeing this, the bespectacled subordinate hurried over. Looking at Wu Kun's miserable condition, he said worriedly,
"Brother Wu, your injuries are serious. You can't keep forcing yourself to hold on. We should surren—"
"Enough." Wu Kun interrupted him. His voice was extremely weak, yet unusually resolute. "We surrender. Hurry and take all the money and spirit stones from the casino and hand them over to him."
The bespectacled subordinate froze. He had thought Wu Kun would continue stubbornly holding out, but he had never expected him to choose surrender so decisively this time.
How could he have known that when Wu Kun was struck the second time, two of the ribs in his chest had already broken? The piercing pain had made him break out in a cold sweat.
When he had been struck the first time, his injuries had been relatively light, and he had assumed the enemy was merely bluffing and was not truly that powerful.
But this time, he had recognized reality completely. He knew the other party was giving him a chance to surrender. If he continued forcing himself to hold out and was struck a third time, he would probably truly die on the spot.
Although he hated to give up the casino's share of the profits and this high-paying job, he needed to be alive to spend them.
"What