Chapter 377 The Bet
The awkward atmosphere lasted for more than ten seconds.
Tim looked at the four Jacks Ryder threw on the table, feeling dizzy.
He thought, 'Lost. Again!'
A mixture of embarrassment, helplessness, regret, anger, shame, and grievance surged within him.
Of course, the most important thing was that losing this round meant losing too much.
As Ryder looked at the huge gambling table in front of him, his eyes shifted, and he continued, "According to our local rules, the arrogant loser has to eat this deck of cards. You don't have any objections, do you?"
When Tim heard this, his eye twitched hard.
He knew Ryder was making the biggest concession. Even though he couldn't accept it in his heart, he could only nod and agree.
After all, the win or loss was witnessed by everyone, and there was no room for denial.
Especially as a casino employee, he couldn't break the rules.
"Digging my own grave," Tim muttered in displeasure.
In the end, he could only put on a mournful face, grab the cards on the table, put them in his mouth, chew them bit by bit, and swallow them with difficulty.
With each swallow, he cursed Ryder to die a horrible death inwardly.
Carol, sitting next to him, felt heartbroken seeing this scene.
She kept handing Tim water and patting his back to help him swallow.
She couldn't let the handsome guy she had her eyes on be ruined like this.
And so, it took more than ten minutes.
A whole deck of cards was eaten by Tim under everyone's watchful eyes.
Ryder started clapping. "No wonder you're the PR manager around here. What an appetite."
Tim felt like crying but forced himself to hold on. "Keep jumping around. Let's see how long you can be cocky."
As he spoke, Tim felt his stomach churning and planned to turn around and go to the bathroom to throw up.
However, Ryder spoke up, "Wait. Did you forget something, Tim?"
"What is it?" Tim asked in confusion.
Ryder pointed to the chips on the table. "You only ate the cards, but you haven't settled the chips you lost to me in this round. Are you planning to run away?"
Tim had a bad feeling but pretended to be calm. "It's just some money. Let's settle it. How much do I owe you?"
The dealer in the sailor suit spoke up, "The base bet is $1 million, and Mr. Clark raised a total of $64 million."
"$64 million?" Hearing this number, Tim was so scared he almost fainted.
In the previous round, he never thought he would lose and didn't pay much attention to the raises.
Not only him, but the other gamblers around also gasped.
Ryder smiled and extended his hand. "We're good friends, so I'll round it down for you. $60 million will do. Bring the chips?"
"I..." Tim was tongue-tied, his legs trembling.
Despite his recent success and earnings, it was all due to his youth and vigor, making $100,000 a month, at most $1.2 million a year. $60 million would take him 50 years of non-stop work to achieve, an astronomical figure.
If he had to work for another 50 years, he might be completely exhausted before dying.
Seeing Tim in a daze, Ryder continued, "What, you don't want to pay? Planning to default?"
His words made many gamblers look at Tim, waiting to see what he would say.
Tim felt a chill under their stares, knowing he couldn't escape this.
It was unrealistic for him to come up with that much money himself.
His eyes shifted, and he suddenly thought of something.
He took two steps forward, knelt in front of Carol, and said, "Carol, I don't want to work hard anymore. Please help me. If you can give me $60 million, I'll be yours from today on. I'll do whatever you want, play whatever you want. How about it?"
"Well..." Carol was visibly stunned, not expecting Tim to make such a move.
But at this moment, Ryder kindly reminded, "Ms. Reed, if I calculated correctly, you owe me $16 million. What about that money..."
When Carol heard this, her chubby face turned pale.
'$16 million,' she thought.
Even for a wealthy woman like her, this amount was hard to accept.
She suddenly slapped Tim across the face.
Spitting in anger, she cursed, "Damn scoundrel. It's all your fault I lost $16 million. You useless piece of trash, can't even last three minutes, but you have the nerve to say you don't want to work hard? Get lost as far as you can."
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