Take a look—that's what you call having taste.
They'd only met twice, but Clown had clearly realized which name better represented his true nature at that moment.
Fu Qian was quite pleased with the name. It also looked like the final showdown was about to begin.
Bet on the last five numbers?
Coming from the hand behind the scenes, that sounded surprisingly convincing.
Clown really had stopped A'wei's move just now on a whim, keeping his own mission from failing.
Though he clearly didn't need any thanks.
He didn't want things to end so soon because he wanted a more refined kind of fun. In fact, this was a mutual pursuit.
If Fu Qian hadn't been patient enough, or if his taste had been lacking, and he'd simply focused on Death Angel and gone all out, Clown might not have been interested in making this bet with him.
"Sure. What are we betting on?"
Fu Qian agreed at once, making no attempt to hide his anticipation.
"Don't worry. It'll definitely be something you're familiar with."
Clown laughed even more freely when Fu Qian agreed without asking what was at stake. He even went out of his way to stress that the game was fair.
"Then you'll have to stand up first."
The next moment, he pointed beneath Fu Qian.
He'd known the thing he'd brought for his old friend to sit on wouldn't be ordinary.
What Clown was pointing at was the surprise gift box—the one Fu Qian had been sitting on this whole time.
The real gift had been given right at the beginning. Only fools were too ignorant to realize it?
Fu Qian understood the deeper meaning of the move perfectly. He even had to admit that it was pretty comfortable to sit on.
The situation was