Gunpowder Plate Armor and the Magic Revolution

Old Jim laughed as he grabbed the four cards face down in front of him and slammed them hard onto the table.

Four different 6s were laid out side by side, their surfaces gleaming with a cold, hard sheen under the overhead light.

In Primello's rules, four sixes are almost the highest possible hand, enough to beat over 6% of hands on the field.

"See that? Four! I have four sixes!"

Old Jim is now expressing his emotions without any regard for his image, as his mood is fluctuating wildly, like a rollercoaster, with his adrenaline surging.

"You really think I hesitated just now because I was scared? That was all an act for newbies like you. With your level of skill, you dare to challenge me?"

As he shouted, he impatiently reached out his greasy hand to scoop up the pile of reflective silver shields from the bottom of the pool.

In his eyes, the outcome of this gamble was already decided, and the money was already his.

Just then, a calm voice came from directly opposite him, light and airy, but it made his outstretched hand freeze in mid-air.

"What's the rush? My cards haven't been dealt yet."

Monet spoke.

"...What are you pretending for? I have four 6s, the only thing that can beat it is four 7s! I don't believe you can be this lucky every time."

Old Jim tried to remain calm, his face full of disdain, as if he didn't take Monet's words to heart at all.

"Whether it's a sham or not, we'll know once we see the cards."

Monet put down the empty wine bottle in his hand, and with a flick of his finger, slowly flipped open the four cards that were face down in front of him, one by one.

The first card is the 7 of Hearts.

The second card is the 7 of spades.

The third card is the 7 of diamonds.

The fourth card is the 7 of plum blossoms.

Four 7s of all suits are displayed on the card table.

Exactly four 7s, no more, no less, which beat old Jim's four 6s, sealing the deal and deciding the outcome of the bet.

"Looks like your luck is still a bit off, old Jim."

Old Jim's laughter suddenly caught in his throat, and he seemed to be nailed to the spot.

He opened his mouth wide, but no sound came out; only a few intermittent hoarse gasps escaped from his chest.

His arm, which had been stretched out to gather his spoils, was only an inch away from the silver shield, but he could no longer move forward even an inch.

Monet leaned back in his chair, looking at the man before him, who was ashen-faced and whose fingertips trembled uncontrollably. His tone was nonchalant, yet it crushed the last shred of hope in the man's heart.

"You lost, you lost everything."

"How...how could I...it's impossible!"

These words seemed to ignite the pent-up frustration, anger, and resentment that had been building up all night.

He slammed his hand on the table, the cards and coins rattling loudly. His eyes instantly turned bloodshot as he stared intently at Monet, letting out a desperate roar.

"Cheating! You fucking cheated! Two hands in a row! Last time I got a flush, and you fucking pulled out four 2s! This time I got four 6s, and you pulled out four 7s! What kind of coincidence is that? Are you trying to make a fool of me?!"

The loud shouts and curses echoed back and forth in the enclosed private room, making everyone's eardrums ache.

He abruptly turned to look at the croupier beside him, grabbed the man by the collar, and dragged him roughly in front of him, pointing in the direction of Monet.

"Investigate! Investigate him! He definitely cheated! Is this how Blackwater Casino does business? Teaming up to swindle my money, huh?!"

The dealer was being pulled so hard he could hardly breathe, his face turning purple. He could only slam his fist on the table to attract the attention of the security guards outside, while stammering an explanation.

"Let go, let go! Casinos have their rules. Cheating must be caught red-handed. You have no evidence; mere suspicion doesn't count..."

"Doesn't count? What do you mean by 'doesn't count'!"

Old Jim roared and raised his hand to slap the dealer's face, but the door to the private room was suddenly pushed open.

Four burly casino thugs, each carrying a machete, strode in and immediately surrounded him.

The leader of the thugs grabbed his raised wrist with such force that it felt like he was going to crush his bones.

"You're asking for trouble at the Blackwater Casino, aren't you?"

The leader of the thugs said coldly, "Let go. If you don't let go, I'll chop off your dog paws and throw them into the Emerald Sea to feed the fish."

A sharp pain shot up his wrist, and Old Jim howled in agony, but he couldn't break free at all. Seeing the four menacing thugs, the madness in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by an overwhelming, unyielding fear.

He then realized that this was someone else's casino territory, not a place where he could cause trouble.

Seeing that he had lost his arrogance, the thugs snorted and released him, but still surrounded him, their eyes fixed on him, ready to attack if he made the slightest move.

Old Jim staggered back two steps, clutching his wrist. He looked at the pile of silver shields on the table that he could no longer touch, then at the expressionless Monet and the cold-faced Nozer. His eyes churned with anger and resentment, but he dared not be presumptuous again.

Making a scene wouldn't work, and he couldn't win against a tough fight. But he had already lost everything, not even enough to cover the losses from the money he had embezzled from the guild. If he didn't get that money back today, he was doomed no matter what.

Despair washed over him. His gaze swept across the private room and finally landed on the little girl who was huddled timidly in the corner, not daring to utter a sound the entire time.

The ferocity on his face vanished instantly, replaced by an expression of utter grief, and he charged headlong toward the little girl.

"Come here, Anna, come here to Daddy..."

Old Jim seemed like a completely different person. As he walked towards the little girl, he opened his arms as if to hug her, his voice filled with sorrow, "Anna, why do you stay so far away from me? Are you leaving me too...?"

"stop."

Noze instantly stood up, took a step in front of the little girl, and used his body to firmly protect her behind him.

His hand, hanging by his side, rested on the hilt of his sailor's dagger. His eyes were icy as he stared at old Jim charging towards him, his tone carrying an undeniable warning, "What do you want?"

The little girl was already stiff with fear from the earlier commotion. She was hiding behind Norze, clutching his clothes tightly with her little hands. She only dared to peek out with one eye, tears welling up in her eyes, but she dared not cry out loud.

Old Jim stopped abruptly when he saw Nozer blocking his way.

The next second, his knees buckled, and he collapsed heavily to his knees on the cold floor with a thud.

"My lords...my lords! Please...please have mercy!"

He knelt on the ground and kowtowed repeatedly to Nozer and Monet, his forehead hitting the solid wood floor with a dull thud. In just a few times, his forehead was already red.