I run a casino in the immortal realm.

Meanwhile, in the lobby on the first floor of the mirage.

Two figures dressed in ordinary monk's robes squeezed through the surging crowd and entered the glass gate.

It was Zeng Feng, the disguised head of the Xuan Tian Sect's Enforcement Hall, and Hu Jingpeng.

As soon as he stepped into the hall, Hu Jingpeng was stunned by the extremely luxurious scene before him.

Beneath your feet lies crystal-clear glass, with spirit fish swimming beneath; all around are towering white jade pillars, inlaid with fist-sized luminous pearls;

The rich spiritual energy in the air made even this inner disciple, who was used to the cultivation environment of Qingfeng Cliff, feel refreshed and relaxed.

"This...this is practically half of the Qingyun Sect's resources!"

Hu Jingpeng's eyes turned red with jealousy, and he growled through gritted teeth, "Just how much of the people's wealth have those beasts from the Xu family plundered?!"

Zeng Feng didn't speak, but his face was equally gloomy.

He held a recording stone tightly in his hand beneath his sleeve, secretly recording the extravagant scene in the hall and the cultivators frantically exchanging chips.

"Master, what do we do now? Should we take action immediately?"

Hu Jingpeng asked in a low voice.

"Don't even think about lifting a finger!"

Zeng Feng glared at him fiercely, then glanced warily at the ceiling above him: "That old madman Wan Tianxiang is drinking tea in the VIP room upstairs! If you dare to cause trouble now, he can chop us both into mincemeat with one sword!"

With the Grand Elder absent, who can withstand a Nascent Soul stage Grandmaster of Formations?

Zeng Feng took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

His gaze pierced through the crowd and landed on several managers who were inspecting the premises not far away. Then he looked up at the top floor.

"Forget about Wan Tianxiang for now, finding Zheng Yifei is the important thing."

Zeng Feng narrowed his eyes slightly, and his vast and hidden Golden Core stage divine sense spread out silently like a tide, instantly enveloping the entire main building.

He was looking for the operator who might be hiding in the shadows.

A moment later, Zeng Feng's divine sense swept across the top-floor study and locked onto "Xu Zhengyun," who had just seen Su Wanqing off.

"Bone age of twenty-two, mid-Foundation Establishment stage, fluctuations of a mutated spiritual root of either lightning or wind element... The bones and meridians are perfectly formed, without any trace of disguise magic or illusion."

Zeng Feng silently calculated in his mind, then his brows furrowed tightly.

He withdrew his divine sense, turned to look at Hu Jingpeng, and said in an unfriendly tone: "Didn't you swear that Zheng Yifei was not dead and was definitely hiding here to take charge of the overall situation?"

I just scanned the entire mirage with my divine sense and found no one who resembled Zheng Yifei!

That head manager, Xu Zhengyun, is indeed a twenty-two-year-old mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator. He hasn't even had his bones altered; he could never be that useless person with five spiritual roots!

Hu Jingpeng was stunned, his face turning pale and then red: "This...how is this possible? How could the Xu family come up with such a method of making money, besides that scumbag Zheng Yifei?"

"Why can't you figure it out? Xu Zhengkun is, after all, the head of a sect. Is it strange that he keeps a few strategists who are well-versed in business?"

Zeng Feng snorted and put away the recording stone: "Since Wan Tianxiang is here to keep order, and Zheng Yifei is nowhere to be found, we absolutely cannot reveal our identities today."

The Grand Elder's task was to investigate the truth. Since we're here, we'll disguise ourselves as ordinary gamblers and see what magic this mirage possesses that can drive these cultivators so crazy!

The two walked to the exchange counter. Zeng Feng, despite the pain in his heart, took out a thousand low-grade spirit stones and exchanged them for a bunch of specially made chips engraved with array patterns.

"Let's go play a couple of rounds."

Zeng Feng, holding the chips, walked towards the busiest "Baccarat" memorial tablet area.

As a Golden Core cultivator, Zeng Feng considered himself to have extraordinary composure and scoffed at this gambling trick that had evolved from mortals.

He felt that with his divine sense and eyesight, even if he couldn't cheat, he could easily see through the patterns on the cards.

On the first day, Zeng Feng and Hu Jingpeng sat at the gambling table, cautiously testing the waters.

The dealer was a female cultivator in the early stages of Foundation Establishment. Her movements were fluid and lightning-fast, and she did not use any spiritual power throughout the entire process.

Zeng Feng tried to use his divine sense to penetrate the specially made spirit tablet, but found that the spirit tablet was engraved with a miniature array that blocked divine sense. If he tried to probe it forcibly, it would immediately trigger an alarm.

Zeng Feng could only rely on luck when betting. Perhaps it was the newbie's halo, but he actually won three thousand spirit stones on the first day.

"Sir, you are truly blessed and have excellent judgment."

A scantily clad, sweet-smiling maid immediately served Zeng Feng a complimentary cup of premium spiritual tea, looking at him with adoring eyes and speaking in a charmingly seductive voice.

Zeng Feng was flattered and elated, his vanity as a Golden Core cultivator greatly satisfied.

He casually tossed a ten-spirit-stone chip to the maid as a reward, secretly sneering to himself: This kind of trick is nothing special.

However, the situation took a sharp turn for the worse the next day.

Zeng Feng felt he had figured out the pattern and began to increase his bets.

But the gambling table seemed to suddenly open its bloody maw, and no matter whether he bet on the banker or the player, he always lost by a narrow margin.

"This is weird!"

Cold sweat beaded on Zeng Feng's forehead; a crack had appeared in his Golden Core stage mental state.

The more he lost, the more resentful he became, always feeling that he could win back his losses in the next round, so he kept betting bigger and bigger.

Hu Jingpeng watched in horror, wanting to dissuade him, but Zeng Feng, his eyes red, shoved him aside: "Get out of my way! Do you think I, a dignified Golden Core cultivator, can be played to death by a few worthless cards?"

On the third day, when the last hand of cards was revealed, and the dealer took away Zeng Feng's five thousand spirit stone chips with a smile, Zeng Feng's mind went blank and he was completely stunned.

He touched the storage bag; it was completely empty.

A full 20,000 low-grade spirit stones! This was most of his wealth accumulated over several years as the head of the Enforcement Hall, and he lost it all in just three days at this gambling table where no magic was used!

"Sir."

Beside him stood the same sweet-smiling maid, who bowed slightly, revealing a perfect eight-tooth smile. Her voice, though still gentle, pierced Zeng Feng's heart like a knife: "You've run out of chips. Would you like to apply for a loan?"

With your cultivation level, our Mirage can provide an interest-free loan of up to 100,000 spirit stones.

Upon hearing the word "loan," Zeng Feng shuddered.

He suddenly snapped out of his daze. He was a Golden Core cultivator! How could he have lost his mind and become blinded by greed in a gamble with absolutely no spiritual energy fluctuations?

If even he couldn't withstand this terrifying, slow-boiling-the-frog-like scheme, wouldn't those low-level rogue cultivators with far less composure be devoured without even a bone fragment left?

"No...no need."

Zeng Feng's face was deathly pale, and his voice was hoarse. He glanced at the gamblers around him who were still shouting wildly and whose eyes were bloodshot, and felt that this luxurious mirage was simply a bottomless hell that devoured people without spitting out their bones!

"Go! Leave now!"

Zeng Feng grabbed Hu Jingpeng by the collar and squeezed through the crowd as if fleeing for his life, stumbling and rushing out of the glass gate.

Standing in the cold wind by Yingxian Lake, Zeng Feng turned his head to look at the brightly lit behemoth, and an unprecedented fear welled up in his heart.