Beneath the suspended gambling table, the lava pool bubbled and gurgled. Occasionally, a bursting bubble sprayed sparks into the air, illuminating the greedy, crazed eyes above. The air in Block B was suffocatingly hot, yet at that moment, a chill shot up everyone's spine.
Ghost Hand Zhang stared at Fang Mo. The two Mysterious Iron Galls that had revolved in his palm for decades suddenly stopped.
A wager of lives.
He had spent his entire life in the martial world. What sort of desperado had he not seen? But this young man's gaze was too still. Still as a stagnant pool, without the slightest ripple. This was not a gambler's all-or-nothing madness, but the indifference of a butcher looking at pork on a chopping block.
"What an arrogant youngster." Ghost Hand Zhang lowered his cloudy eyelids halfway, hiding the sharp gleam beneath them. "Since General Commissioner Fang has a taste for such entertainment, wouldn't refusing make this old man seem ignorant of the rules?"
His withered hand swept lightly across the tabletop, and a dice cup ground from some unknown beast's bones slid before Fang Mo.
"The usual rules. We compare totals. Three dice, highest total wins." Ghost Hand Zhang grinned, revealing broken, yellowed teeth. "The guest follows the host's lead, but I'll let you roll first."
Fang Mo glanced at the dice cup.
[Netherworld Ghost Eye] activated.
His gaze pierced the beast bone. He saw that the dice were not solid inside, but filled with mercury. More insidiously, a miniature Chaos Magnetic Formation was engraved on the bottom of the cup. With a mere thought from Ghost Hand Zhang, the dice could show whatever numbers he wanted.
Nine gambles out of ten were scams. This old devil was openly setting a trap.
"Sure." Fang Mo reached out and gripped