These words were very calm, without any anger, but they made Swen Rossby feel a chill rising from his spine.
This guy... his tone of voice was too sure, and he looked confident. Could it be that he really knew some big shot that he couldn't afford to offend?
"Are you threatening me?"
He stared hard at Corleone's eyes, as if trying to catch the trace of the other person lying, but unfortunately, those dark eyes just looked at him calmly, without any panic.
"I'm just stating a fact."
Corleone shrugged. "No matter what choice you make, the final outcome is the same."
"So why should we waste each other's time with this meaningless process?"
As soon as these words came out, the muscles on Swen's face twitched slightly, and he began to weigh the pros and cons in his mind.
He was able to climb from a bad gambler wallowing in the quagmire of the casino to the position of Squad Leader in the golden robe step by step. In addition to the necessary ruthlessness, he was also inseparable from the ability to assess the situation at critical moments.
Of course, the most important thing is that during the Battle of Blackwater, the king's brother Tommen Baratheon was sent to Rosby City for refuge.
As a distant cousin of Rossby Earl, he also got some exposure and was promoted after the war.
He didn't dare to take a gamble. If there really was a big shot behind this man who he couldn't afford to offend, everything he had finally gained might be wiped out in an instant.
The expression on Swen's face kept changing, but Ralf on the side saw that he was hesitating and almost jumped up in anxiety.
He knows very well that if the three Corleone cannot be crucified today with the help of the golden robe, then what awaits him is a huge debt of five thousand Gold Dragon!
This huge sum of money is enough to wipe out his savings for many years, and the real boss behind him will never bear this loss for him.
What's even worse is that the boss behind the scenes may even send someone to take care of him personally!
"Liar!"
The anxious Ralf immediately stood up, pointed at Corleone and said in a sharp voice, "He is a liar, don't believe him, Captain Swen!"
"This guy can't even bet a thousand Gold Dragon. How can he know anyone big? He has absolutely no background, he's just pretending!"
Hearing this, Swen's eyes began to twinkle again.
Seeing him like this, Ralf immediately struck while the iron was hot. "Think about it, Captain Swen, I am the legal businessman who pays the most taxes in Flea Bottom!"
"I use the credibility of "Blood Pit" to guarantee that this guy is just an ordinary person who got lucky. He picked up Rorge, a lost dog, from nowhere, and he wants to blackmail me!"
"If you don't give me a fair result, won't you chill the hearts of law-abiding businessmen like me in King's Landing?"
He spoke righteously, just like an honest businessman would when he was being blackmailed.
However, Swen narrowed his eyes slightly.
This guy's words were threatening him openly or covertly.
Yes, Ralf is indeed a major taxpayer in Flea Bottom, but most of those "taxes" fell into his pocket, Swen Rossby.
After all, without Ralf's bribe, his shabby salary alone would not be able to support Swen to go to Silk Street every month to live happily, let alone spend a lot of money on the gambling table.
You know, the consumption in Silk Street is not cheap. A night stay with a reasonably good prostitute costs dozens of Silver Stag (about one-tenth of Gold Dragon)!
But then again, although Ralf is threatening him, if this guy named Corleone is really good, why is he dressed in such a shabby way, and can't even show the previous gambling money of Gold Dragon?
Swen was thinking rapidly in his mind, risking his stable financial path for an outsider of unknown origin?
Any fool knows how to choose!
"Handcuff me!"
After thinking about it again and again, greed finally outweighed the uneasiness in my heart.
Swen waved his hand suddenly and sternly ordered to his subordinates, "Bring these three fugitives back to the headquarters and I will personally interrogate them!"
He emphasized the word "fugitive" to show the justice of his actions.
Under the command of Swen, several golden robes tentatively stepped forward again and took out the iron shackles.
As soon as their footsteps moved, Yego roared instinctively, his muscles tensed, and his eyes fiercely scanned every face approaching Corleone.
This menacing look shocked the golden robes for a moment.
Although they had the numerical advantage, with two companions facing the end, no one wanted to be the first to take the lead.
It's only a few hundred Copper Star a month, what a waste of money!
But just when the two sides were in a stalemate, Corleone raised his head again and held Yego's shoulders.
"Don't be impulsive, my blood is my blood."
He took a step forward and spoke in an unusually calm and pointed voice, "Sometimes, temporarily lowering your head is to see clearly the longer-term road to victory."
Yego was a little confused by such obscure words, but his loyalty to Corleone still made him snort, calm down, and no longer resist.
Seeing this, the golden robes breathed a sigh of relief and continued to step forward.
In their surprised eyes, Corleone actually stretched out his hands and consciously put his hands into the shackles.
There was a "click" and the cold iron shackles locked his wrists, but his body remained upright.
That relaxed look was not like a prisoner who was about to become a prisoner, but rather like a knight who was preparing to attend a boring banquet and was temporarily bound by cumbersome etiquette.
When the shackles were tightened, Corleone slowly raised his head, looking straight at Swen Rossby as if through the crowd.
"You disappoint me, Swen Rossby."
"You made a very simple thing complicated. Tonight, I was going to meet a really big shot, but you messed it up."
His voice was obviously not high-pitched, and his hands were heavily shackles, but Swen could always feel a sense of oppression coming from the other party.
In order to make himself less passive, Swen pretended to sneer easily, "Stop pretending, kid, I'm sure I'm the biggest..."big shot" you've ever seen in your life!"
However, Corleone seemed to see the fierceness in his appearance, and said word by word:
"Just laugh, now."
"You will pay a price far beyond your imagination for your decision at this moment."
"Maybe now is not the time, but please believe that there will be a moment when you think you are safe and have peace of mind..."
"This is not a threat, Swen Rossby."
Corleone gave Swen one last look. "This is fate."
After saying that, he ignored the other party's uncertain expression and took the initiative to walk out of Arena.
The heavy shackles made regular knocking sounds on Corleone's hands, but they were like a knight wearing armor walking onto the battlefield, with the armor squeaking against each other.