When those white silver notes fluttered in the sky, the entire surrounding stands were filled with curses.
"Damn your Immortal's coolness, how could you lose like this?"
"Ghost, you deserve to die!"
"This must be a setup, that guy just now, he was clearly asking for it, throwing himself onto Chu's blade!"
"Trash, just die!"
"Dammit, luckily there was a betting limit, Zuo Ya actually had some conscience this time, didn't scam us of too much money."
These curses quickly spread outside, immediately triggering an uproar akin to a mountain collapsing and a tsunami surging.
Without concentrating, Chu Xisheng knew that those gamblers were swearing at him in the streets.
He glanced at the corpse of Zhuang Hongfei, feeling a flicker of emotion in his heart.
When this man was alive, he was exalted by countless gamblers; upon his death, he was cursed by them, his demise cared for no more than a stray dog dead in the streets.
