Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The Royal Casino.

Jiang Yao stood at the entrance, hands in his pockets, gazing up at the Royal Casino—one of G-nation's grandest symbols of opulent living. It boasted a towering facade and a soaring vaulted ceiling.

It was also the only casino that mandated formal attire for entry.

"Good evening." Two attendants, dressed in the casino's signature white-and-yellow uniforms, simultaneously gestured to Jiang Yao. "Please, come in."

Jiang Yao offered a faint smile and stepped into the Royal Casino's resplendent halls. The lobby was remarkably quiet. Designed to integrate both gambling and hotel facilities, the entrance revealed a steady flow of impeccably dressed patrons.

The interior was circular, with each cardinal direction marking an entrance. The casino was a sprawling complex, each floor stipulating a minimum wager per game.

The higher the floor, the higher the stakes.

The gaming area featured numerous electronic machines, catering to those with more modest means or a penchant for slot machines. Even basic games like the two-color lottery were available.

A large screen on an upper floor displayed updates for the F1 championship. With spring fast approaching, little time remained—this year's Formula One race was, by coincidence, scheduled to be held in G-nation.

Consequently, G-nation was soon to experience another surge in tourism.

Jiang Yao idled on the first floor for a while. The System chimed: [€20 a play on the machines? Doesn’t seem too bad. Your monthly salary is €300,000!]

Jiang Yao replied: [Two years ago, a billionaire in the Forbes Top 100 reportedly gambled away his entire company playing slots in Macau, China—in less than three days.]

The System: [...]

"Open!"

"Come on, open!"

"Fuck!"

"(*&^%$#@!"

The first floor was teeming. Every gambling table was surrounded by a throng, filled with shouts in incomprehensible languages. People waved their arms, faces contorted in frenzied expressions. Only the croupiers remained impassive, dealing and collecting cards, exchanging chips.

"Goddammit!" A man was shoved away from a table, nearly colliding with Jiang Yao. Jiang Yao gently advised, "Sir, be careful. Gambling is bad for your liver. Look at you—your face is red with anger."

"Get lost!"

Jiang Yao stumbled back from the shove but was steadied by a hand on his shoulder. "Butler Jiang, please come upstairs."

Two men, dressed as security guards, flanked Jiang Yao, lifting him slightly off the ground as they half-escorted him onto the escalator. He looked up and saw a young, unfamiliar face peeking from the third-floor corridor.

Jerry glared fiercely at Jiang Yao before being forcibly turned away and led into a room.

*Sigh.*

Jiang Yao sighed.

Two minutes later, they reunited, surrounded by a phalanx of burly enforcers in black.

*Thud! Thud!*

Two chairs were flung out. Before Jiang Yao or Jerry could utter a word, they were both unceremoniously pushed onto the seats.

The enforcers quickly closed in. One, who appeared to be their leader, stepped forward and addressed Jiang Yao, "Good evening, Mr. Shen’s butler."

Jiang Yao mused that he hadn’t been restrained—a benefit of Shen Mo’s influence, no doubt. He smiled politely at the man in charge, then turned to Jerry. "They’re after your uncle. You’ve really messed up this time."

Jerry’s usual devil-may-care demeanor vanished, replaced by panic. "Y-you’re lying! I—I just called you to bail me out! Just pay them and let’s go!"

Jiang Yao raised an eyebrow. "How would I have that kind of cash?"

Jerry: "You manage such a huge estate! How can you not have money?! Ugh, you’re useless!"

Jiang Yao: "I’ll contact Lord Dero."

"No!" Jerry shouted. "Dad’ll break my legs!"

Jiang Yao: "Then I’ll contact Mr. Shen Mo."

The casino manager’s eyebrow flickered almost imperceptibly.

Jerry reacted even more violently, springing upright. "No way! My mom will break my legs!"

Jiang Yao: [See? Such is the servant’s lot.]

The System: [And your point is?]

[The young master fears everyone—except me breaking his legs.] Jiang Yao sighed.

The System: [Hahaha.]

"My suggestion is to invite Mr. Shen here in person," the manager said.

Jiang Yao stood, cracking his knuckles. "The young master refuses. What’s the damage? I’ll win it back for him."

Jerry: "A *Ferrari*."

Jiang Yao: "?"

Jerry, sheepishly: "I had a nest egg... It was for buying my own car!"

Jiang Yao grinned, extending a hand. "Alright then. Let’s claw it back—the same way you lost it."

The gambling table was set up—a round one in the high-stakes pit on the third floor.

The manager smiled. "For fairness, shall we invite two other guests to join?"

Jiang Yao shrugged, removing his wristwatch and placing it on the croupier’s tray. "Sure thing."

Jerry was both shocked and furious. "You came empty-handed?! What kind of gambler are you?!"

Jiang Yao scoffed. "The watch is my buy-in."

The croupier hesitated. Jiang Yao glanced at him, puzzled. "What’s the matter? Can’t the Royal Casino, where high rollers gather, find a single gemologist?"

The manager waved a hand. "Fetch an appraiser. Now."

Jiang Yao: "I’m not going anywhere. Give me a million in chips first."

The manager: "Perhaps we should—"

Jiang Yao pushed himself up from the table. "Then I’m done."

"We can play first," the manager smiled.

The cards were dealt, and naturally, gamblers took their seats. The four players settled in, while Jerry stood nervously behind Jiang Yao.

Jerry: "What if you lose? How are we going to handle that?"

Jiang Yao rolled up his shirt sleeves: "Don't even utter the word 'lose.'"

Jerry's eyes darted around. "Then I'll go jinx our opponents instead!"

A scoff sounded nearby.

The back of his hand was lightly brushed. Jiang Yao glanced sideways and met a pair of golden eyes. He whistled inwardly. "Sir, are you planning to cheat and swap my cards?"

Victor: "..."

Someone nearby burst into laughter. "What a waste of good looks—this is Victor from the Ferrari racing team! Infamous for..."

"Is he a top Ferrari contender?"

"Not exactly!"

"Then why is he famous?"

"Hahaha!" The crowd erupted in laughter, the tone teasing and suggestive.

Victor was once a racing star—blond, blue-eyed, and dubbed the "Track Prince." His looks were exquisite. More than his racing skills, his striking appearance drew attention. His fanbase was evenly divided between men and women, claiming that sleeping with Victor once was worth more than winning an F1 championship.

Even other racers made it an annual tradition to joke about "taking Victor for a spin" as a pre-race ritual.

Victor's smile faded as he tapped the table impatiently.

The croupier dealt the cards, and the four began playing Texas Hold'em.

*System: [Do you even know how to play? You always said gambling was forbidden!]*

Jiang Yao: [It is, so I don't.]

*System: [...]*

In Texas Hold'em, the croupier gives each player two face-down cards, followed by five community cards. Players combine their cards to form the best possible hand and bet accordingly, revealing their hands at the end to determine the winner.

"Hurry up and check your cards!" Jerry urged. "Look first, then bet!"

Jiang Yao ignored him. The ante was 10,000, but he pushed out 100,000 in chips, leisurely glancing around. "Gambling's all about the thrill, right? Go big or go home!"

"Hahaha!"

"Whoo!"

His audacity instantly got the whole casino buzzing!

"You're right—go big or go home!" Victor tossed his cards aside, also choosing not to look, and shoved all his chips forward in one motion.

The casino manager chuckled lightly. Seated directly across from Jiang Yao, he remarked, "Butler Jiang, a bit of caution wouldn't hurt. I know Mr. Shen dislikes reckless gambles. What if he gets angry?"

Jiang Yao reached up and loosened his bowtie. "It's off the clock. Please don't bring up my employer."

Manager: "..."

"Your card-flipping is clumsy," Victor leaned in close. Jiang Yao caught a whiff of alcohol and subtly shifted back, noticing Victor's perfect white teeth beneath his parted lips. "I'm Victor. You clearly don't know how to play."

Sure enough, Jiang Yao flipped his cards—and lost.

Victor raked in all the chips. The second round began, and Jiang Yao bet another 100,000.

Victor offered a friendly warning: "Do you know why they keep mentioning Mr. Shen?"

"Why?" Jiang Yao played dumb, though he was just playing along.

"The F1 race is coming up. G-country plans to organize the grandest, most luxurious event yet—but they're short on funding. They're hoping to meet Mr. Shen."

Jiang Yao leaned in and whispered, "You're drunk. Mr. Shen doesn't gamble."

"Just some whiskey," Victor replied. "Not betting—investing!"

Jiang Yao: "Casino sponsorship is still gambling, no? Mr. Victor, you're not even a top contender anymore. Why the enthusiasm?"

Victor was cornered. "If you could persuade Mr. Shen to offer some financial support, name your price."

Jiang Yao lost the second round too.

Jerry was having a meltdown. "Hey, are you even trying to win?!"

"Third round—I'm going all in with the remaining 700K." Jiang Yao patted Jerry's shoulder. "Relax, that's gambling for you. See, this time—"

"You lost again! Jiang, you—!" Jerry was livid.

"Manager," the appraiser arrived, whispering into the casino manager's ear, "the watch is counterfeit."

The manager's eyes sharpened. "Understood. Call the Shen residence."

Victor: "I'll win your chips back if you convince Mr. Shen for me. Deal?"

Jiang Yao stretched. "Ah, I need a bio break. That alright?"

The manager gestured politely. "Of course."

After finishing up, Jiang Yao was at the sink washing up. A figure flashed in the mirror—someone grabbed his wrist, pinning him against the counter.

Before Jiang Yao could see who it was, five cards were thrown in front of him.

"You had a Straight Flush! You clearly won!" Victor gripped his wrist tighter. "You tanked that hand! You're even sneakier than I thought!" He tightened his hold. "Why pretend to lose?"

Jiang Yao smirked. "Need the sink, sir? Mind letting me out first?"

Victor froze, suddenly aware of their awkward position—his hips pressed against Jiang Yao's backside, the tailored suit pants molding to every curve from waist to thigh. Even through fabric, the sensation was unmistakable...

Victor stepped back to a polite distance. "Nice... fit."

Jiang Yao: "Yes, my clothes are custom-made. The fabric's woven with crushed diamond fibers, but for comfort—"

His deadpan, mirror-directed explanation about the fabric was so unexpected that Victor wondered if he'd misheard. "I meant your *ass* feels great. The body's hot, not the suit."

Jiang Yao hummed, turning so his breath ghosted over Victor's lips. "Right, because these pants—"

He launched into the same spiel about the fabric.

At this distance, Victor could see Jiang Yao's trim waist hugged by his vest in the mirror, recalling the lingering scent and heat from when they'd been pressed together.

Victor felt a restless itch, like a cat clawing at his insides.

"Do I look good?" Victor gazed at Jiang Yao, his eyes trailing from his brows to his lips. "You know, how many people in Ferrari, Red Bull, and AM Racing want to sleep with me?"

Jiang Yao nodded. "Master Victor's beauty is well-known. You're certainly worth bedding."

Jiang Yao curved his eyes; his eyes narrowed to slits, hiding the dangerous glint beneath his long lashes. Victor had an excellent physique.

Just like the explicit rumors suggested, Victor was born with a face that begged to be fucked—yet he remained utterly oblivious, even thinking he could have *me*? Jiang Yao chuckled softly.

Confident, Victor produced a rose folded from a Euro note and offered it to Jiang Yao. "I booked a room on the seventh floor."

Jiang Yao slowly undid the first button of his shirt. As Victor’s gaze grew hungrier, he suddenly raised a finger, as if struck by realization. "Oh! You mean..."

"No, I can’t. I’m the Shen family’s butler. You can’t poach me!" Jiang Yao proclaimed like some righteous hero, sternly refusing.

Victor narrowed his eyes. "You’re pretending not to understand?"

A sudden force shoved Jiang Yao backward, pinning him against the sink. Victor’s lips crashed onto his, crushing against Jiang Yao’s in a brutal kiss!

The System emitted a shrill alarm: [Aaaaaah!]

"Open your mouth..."

Jiang Yao murmured, "Victor..."

Victor’s tongue seized the opportunity, slipping in—pillowy soft, yet its owner clearly believed himself to be overwhelmingly dominant.

He could ravage Jiang Yao at will. Jiang Yao leaned back lazily against the sink, arms spread behind him. A slight shift in his stance was misread as surrender, his legs supposedly giving way.

It only spurred Victor’s ragged breathing further. He pried Jiang Yao’s knees apart. Jiang Yao tilted his head to evade, only for Victor to grip his chin and yank him back!

His lips were reddened from the kiss, eyes hazy with lust, breath uneven—

Victor’s kisses grew bolder, the tingling sensation spreading. Jiang Yao seemed incapable of refusal, letting Victor invade and claim until his face flushed, the crisp pine scent on him now mingled with the scent of arousal.

"Come to the seventh floor with me..." Victor growled.

"No need. Thank you for your kindness, Master Victor." Shen Mo’s voice came from behind. He had been standing there for a while, watching Jiang Yao be kissed senseless. His gaze lingered on Jiang Yao’s lips. "Butler Jiang, am I interrupting?"

Jiang Yao shook his head, face still flushed. He wiped away the traces Victor left with the back of his hand, hissing in pain. "No, sir. I came to pick up Master Jerry... I failed."

Shen Mo scoffed. "Go print a document."

"Yes." Jiang Yao fastened his button, readjusting his appearance in the mirror. With his bowtie in place, he was once again the ordinary, proper butler.

Victor smirked. "Your lips are swollen from my kiss."

In the mirror, Jiang Yao’s gaze flicked toward him, cool and detached. "It hurts a bit."

Victor’s breath hitched. "I—I’ll make it up to you!"

But Jiang Yao had never asked for it. He washed his hands again, drying them. "I should go now."

Jiang Yao added, "Master Victor, I know many elegant ladies. Give me your number, and I’ll arrange an unforgettable date for you."

Victor stood there, stunned.

Jiang Yao hurried after Shen Mo. He had tidied up perfectly—only his swollen lips gave him away. Otherwise, he still looked every bit the meticulous, impeccably dressed young butler, collar buttoned to the top.

[Who knew he could get so shameless?]

Shen Mo’s mental jab struck Jiang Yao’s ears with perfect clarity.

Jiang Yao pressed his lips together. "Sir, why did you come personally?"

[Of course, to see just how much Butler Jiang was enjoying himself.] Shen Mo’s gaze was dark and unreadable. "I was restless. I needed some air. Were you really just here for Jerry?"

Jiang Yao smiled, eyes crinkling. "Of course."