```
Pfft!
Kun Qianxi spewed a mouthful of old blood.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his body was burning hot.
His deep yellow skin had turned unusually crimson.
It was as if he had been smeared with a layer of red lacquer, almost as if the blood was about to seep out from his skin.
The moment Kun Qianxi fell from the gambling table, the bodyguards quickly stepped forward and helped him up.
The atmosphere in the hall had been quite noisy up until then.
During tonight's final match, everyone was frantically placing bets.
Just two minutes into the game, Cristiano Ronaldo had changed the score on the field.
Those who bet on the Portugal Team winning were naturally ecstatic, dancing and cheering for the victory.
Conversely, the rich folks who bet on the Spain Team were fuming, wishing they could teleport to the match and strangle him.
But...
No one lost their temper to the point of jumping up and vomiting blood like Kun Qianxi, nor did they fall down from the gambling table.
