Abyss Train

Chapter 808 Blackjack

  [Part ① Midnight]

Half an hour before the gunfire rang out.

Jim Crow flipped his hands, and the playing cards jumped back and forth between his thick knuckles like living snakes.

"Young man, I want you to play cards with me. I'm making you an offer you can't refuse."

The Joker and the Jack fly out from the deck. These are useless cards that are not needed in the game of Blackjack.

Wen Bucai clenched his pistol, ready to fire at any time. If he could see the fat man's soul clearly, he would be able to determine the enemy's death knell.

"I can talk to your corpse."

He tried to provoke Jim Crow, and in the power game of soul power, the drunkard would not fear any opponent.

"You are here for revenge." Jim Crow popped up the cards. With the skills of a magician, the game had already begun. "Then eradicate all evil! If you want to kill bandits, you must first kill the most powerful, cruel, and most damnable bandit leader! Kill the leader of the perfume bottle! He is the culprit!"

Wen Bucai hesitated and loosened the buffalo horn grip of the revolver. He moved his fingers to the bottom card and took a quick look at the points.

"One more piece."

The rules of blackjack are very simple. You have to get the right number of points, but it cannot exceed twenty-one. The closer you are to this number, the more likely you are to win.

If the players have the same points, then the number of cards they have should be compared. Making a blackjack with three cards is bigger than making a blackjack with four cards. The process should be simple and clear. Taking shortcuts means the winner takes all.

"I have a nice gun that I just bought from Texas." Jim Crow wanted to drive the tiger to devour the wolf. He not only wanted to get the arrow in his hand, but also wanted to completely cut off the big boss's retreat: "If you are willing to do this favor, I will give it to you for free."

Mr. Jim placed a heavy bet on himself by adding cards and points to the dealer's main position.

"I know the secret of the Big Leader, and I know where the arrow came from."

“Although no one has ever seen the true face of the Great Leader, there is one place he will never give up easily—that is his inevitable journey.”

  Wen Bucai looked at the points on his hole cards again. He already had the King of Spades and the King of Hearts. He was only one step away from having a [BlackJack]. Twenty points was already a big number. Was there any need to bet on an Ace?

He didn't rush to bid and began to waver.

Want to talk business with this guy? Again?!

Again? Sign a new contract! Become a helper for some ogre?

The strong desire for revenge had locked him firmly in the chair. Wen Bucai asked -

"--what would you like?"

"I want arrows! Vincent! Not just arrows! I also want his head. As long as you help me, you can win this hand." Jim Crow said fanatically: "My soul power can transform your body, making you fearless of pain and full of vitality."

"You will have strength many times greater than that of an ordinary person. Even if a bullet hits your stomach, it will not cause a fatal injury. As long as you raise your arms, you can protect your fragile head."

"Work for me! How about that?"

Wen Bucai then called: "Give me another one."

"Do you want to continue gambling? Chinese?!" Jim Crow threw the newly arrived precious guns on the table without any concealment. "Do you want to continue gambling?"

"You already have twenty points, do you want to bid again?"

"I used to be a circus magician. I could give you any card you wanted."

"This skill is not rusty, but it can be used to cheat. Without me, you will never catch the big boss. As for your fellow countryman."

Jim Crow slowly took out a handful of Yellow Pages contracts from under the table. These were the evidence he secretly picked up after Sullivan was attacked. He also found out Vincent's background.

"Father Kevin gives my regards to you, Vincent."

When Wen Bucai heard the word [Kevin], his eyes turned bloodshot and he stood up immediately.

Jim Crow pointed a gun at the reckless young man—

"—Sit down, sit down, calm down! Vincent!"

"You know where he is!" Wen Bucai growled horribly like a wild beast.

"Look at you! You look like a wounded tiger! If I had a camera, I would definitely take a picture of you! Definitely!" Mr. Jim said with a smile, "Kevin! Kevin! Kevin Richard - a Colombian. He brought you to this land, found a job for you, and taught you English."

"Vincent, look what you've done, little tiger?"

Every word of Jim Crow is like a sharp dagger, piercing deeply into Wen Bucai's heart.

"A letter of introduction is 25 cents, from Shekou, from Fuzhou"

Wen Bucai yelled, "Fuck you fathead! Stop talking! That's enough!"

"The younger ones will be sold for fifty cents. They are less likely to get sick and can at least survive half the voyage and get off the ship safely. Even if they die of illness, there will be a pension. All of them will be handed over to Father Kevin Richard. As for how much will be sent to your account? Ha."

“Ha-ha-ha!~”

Jim Crow opened his mouth and stuck out his bright red tongue.

"Wen Bucai, what are you doing? What were you doing at that time?"

It seems that all the strength has been drained, and all the spiritual light has dimmed!

Vincent could no longer shout out his drunken rage, his soul slowly breaking apart like a fish out of water.

His eye sockets were sunken and he suddenly looked old, as if white hair was about to grow. He sat back in the chair, and his originally proud and upright posture became dejected and depressed.

"Kevin Richard said so. You get the tip for translation and go get drunk. Love the alcohol and cigarettes of this land."

Jim Crow and Wen Bucai flirted with each other, trying to awaken some vitality in this zombie.

"You have many female companions, and you have fun in the concert halls on Broadway in New York. Soon, you run out of money."

"Father Kevin has been prepared for a long time. He knows your difficulties and has given you more referral orders. You are responsible for recruiting people while he negotiates the contract with the railway company."

"Vincent"

The man who was as tough as iron now had lifeless eyes, and dirty yellow tears kept falling from his eye sockets. Wen Bucai was speechless, and intermittent mumbling came out from his throat.

"No"

"I"

"no no."

"no."

"I do not want"

  [Part②·Failure]

Jim Crow nodded—

"—I understand you, Vincent."

"Kevin didn't expect things to turn out like this. It's not your fault. You never went to the railway company. You were just a middleman and a victim who was kept in the dark."

"You got into a fight with someone while drinking, you had sex with a foreign girl, you had a leg shot off, you stayed in the hospital for three months, and you had an affair with an orthopedic surgeon."

"When you were discharged from the hospital, only a pair of boots and a letter from home were sent to Washington." Jim Crow tilted his head and said innocently.

"I am not talented in writing. This should be the last relic of your fellow countryman. It is the perfume bottle's fault that it was sent to the capital. How dare a slave send a letter to the civilized world?"

"I heard Jack Martin's story. It seems that you were planning to commit suicide by lying on the railway tracks?"

"Haha." Jim lowered his eyebrows and smiled sinisterly: "Coward!"

Wen Bucai's face was haggard, and he shouted hoarsely: "No! I don't think so! I am not!"

The fat on Jim Crow's face twitched and grew increasingly angry.

"You shot thirty-one barely adult perfume-bottle imps outside of town."

"But you don't dare to gamble with me? I've put all my chips on the table. As long as you are willing to help me--"

"——I will tell you the whereabouts of the Big Leader and Father Kevin Richard. Just give me the arrows!"

Every word of the story told by the person in charge of the museum is true.

Wen Bucai followed Father Kevin Richard to North America, and immediately followed this prestigious bishop to the front of the stage to shake hands with the parliamentary lineup that George Joshua was in.

Without knowing it, this yellow man mobilized the local gentry to visit and call on the elders and villagers in three townships and two counties to send nearly 1,400 laborers to the Pacific Railway Company. The total number of Chinese slaves involved in the construction of the Pacific Railway was no more than 12,000.

As a translator, Wen Bucai was very dedicated to his job. He had two properties in New York and a manor in Washington given by Lieutenant Joshua. He was well-dressed and had an elegant demeanor, and was considered a wealthy and prominent family by his fellow villagers in Shekou. It seemed that as long as he went to the United States, everything would be fine.

He was busy with socializing and seeking pleasure. Apart from traveling back and forth between the port and the dock and shuttling between continents, he had never even visited the construction site of the railway company. This was the beginning of a new life, but also the harbinger of a nightmare.

Because of the vulgarity of fighting for beautiful women at the drinking party, he was drunk and almost fell asleep. On Broadway, a bullet shattered his right tibia, leaving him paralyzed in bed for a hundred days. When he returned to Washington's former residence, he received a pair of leather boots and a suicide note from his fellow villagers.

He could no longer remember what was written in the suicide note. It was filled with desperate phrases and words, anger and hatred between the lines, and it was full of curses and insults.

When Wen Bucai rushed westward along the railway and arrived in Arizona, the state government only handed him a stack of contracts, without even a trace of his body.

He didn't know who to ask for an explanation, so one sunny day, he lay on the red rock desert of the Grand Canyon, on a hot railroad track, and decided to end his despicable and shameful life.

"Give me the cards! Give me the cards!" Wen Bucai shouted sternly, "Give me the cards!"

"Which one do you want! Little Tiger!" Jim Crow Aggression: "It's [Ace]?! Right?! Shout it out!"

"Give me the right cards! Give me [Ace], I promise you! I will bring you the arrows! I will help you kill people. I..." At this point, Wen Bucai began to dry heave. He just felt nauseous and hallucinations appeared in his eyes.

The dark red velvet on the card table seemed to be slowly melting, turning into a boiling stream of blood and flesh.

Skulls covered with black hair emerged one after another. They were like boiling soup, constantly emitting blood-red bubbles.

"Give me the contract. Give it to me and I'll sign it."

"Not bad! You are in good spirits! Vincent! You are really good!" Jim Crow clapped his hands vigorously: "Really good! Really good! You are really good! You are a talent! ~ Then as you wish-"

——The gun was pushed in front of Vincent, and as an Ace of Spades fell on the table, the verbal agreement seemed to have been signed.

"It's sixteen miles away from Buffalo Bay in the Grand Canyon on the northwest side of Sloth Town. The site is near a rain forest. I hate bugs, and there are a lot of them there."

"The tomb complex beneath the temple and the intricate underground tunnels are where the big boss has to go. Vincent, he likes red ponies, and his taste in horses seems to be very similar to that of Jack Martin next to you. If you can find his horse, he must be nearby."

"The arrow was dug out from that site. Legend has it that the Mayans passed on psychic witchcraft to the local Indian tribes. The miraculous power of the feathered serpent god Kukulkan can grant mortals immortality."

"The big boss has to keep raising the stakes, keep raising the stakes."

Jim Crow rested two fingers on the flannel on the table, posing as a long-distance traveler.

"He will definitely go. He will definitely go. He will never miss this magical treasure."

"To mobilize manpower in the name of building a railway and excavate prehistoric relics is his ideal in life and the necessary step to the next heaven."

"Kevin Richard" Wen Bucai moved Jack's pistol away and took Jim Crow's pistol in his hand: "Where's this old dog?"

“I will not throw all my chips into the gamble until the arrow has fallen on my hand” Jim Crow said.

"boom!--"

From the secret passage behind the circus, from the small window in the dark corner of the casino, a fatal bullet was fired! Under the coercion and inducement of the big boss, the gunman holding Jack Martin pulled the trigger of fate.

The bullet penetrated the thick flesh of Jim Crow's shoulder and neck, pierced his collarbone, rushed out of his chest, and flew straight towards Wen Bucai's eyebrows!

His heart was broken, and it was difficult for him to call on the power of the soul for help! Jiu Kuang only flashed out of his body, and the moment he came into contact with the bullet, he disappeared without a trace!

The fragments hit Wen Bucai's right eye without any hindrance, and blood immediately gushed out.

"Damn it!" Mr. Jim slammed the table top hard, and a mechanism jumped out from the secret compartment of the gambling table. His body sank and he immediately fell into the secret door of the secret passage.

Gunshots came one after another from the direction of the circus, and Wen Bucai didn't even know what was happening.

He was in a state of disarray, covered in wounds, dizzy and dazed, and took the bets on the table, took Jack's token, and left Sullivan's hat on the table. Based on his rich experience in gunfights, he avoided the direction of the first shot and hid in a blind spot on the gambling table.

"Alcoholism!"

  He called out to the spirit within his body, but received no response!

"Alcoholism! Alcoholism! Help me! Damn it!"

"Alcoholism!"

"I'm bleeding"

The sticky blood flowed from his eye sockets into his mouth. Wen Bucai endured great pain, but Hun Wei remained absolutely silent.

He seemed to have gradually degenerated from the state of a Morpho Butterfly, with countless invisible chains binding him tightly.

“Why! Why! Ah!!!”

"Why! Alcoholism!"

"Why won't you help me? You're not going to do anything? You're just standing by and doing nothing again? Are you going to watch me slowly die? Rot and stink bit by bit?"

"I'm so damned good!"

Wen Bucai opened fire at the tables in the guest area, but Jim Crow's pistol was so powerful that the tableware exploded and flew all over the place.

He didn't dare to stick his head out to fight back, and he didn't even know what was happening.

He picked up Jack Martin's Remington and fired again. The bullet collided with the fork and was ejected. The fork fell to Vincent's side, and he was asked to grab it and stab it into the eye socket! He wanted to pull out this necrotic eyeball with the shrapnel!

"I deserve to die!!!"

  Jack Martin pulled the trigger and the bullet exploded almost at zero distance in his mouth!

His cheeks suddenly swelled up, but there was no blood on the back of his head.

  The dense fishing lines were like the steel wires that hung a pendulum. This magical spirit wrapped the bullet tightly. A strong flame came out of the muzzle, and the gas almost rushed out of his nostrils and ears!

It seems that he can't even commit suicide! The arrow has recognized this child! The clover scar on his belly has slowly stopped bleeding and healed, turning into an indelible tattoo.

Jack Martin wanted to continue firing, but the big boss locked the hammer with his fingers, and the pistol had run out of bullets.

The slaves of fate banged on the iron prison windows, still roaring with unwillingness.

"I deserve to die!!!"