Under the dim yellow light, a variety of mummified bodies lay in pieces on the ground. It was only in this world obsessed with entertainnt until death, where bodies weren’t legally protected, that Bert’s dissection activities alone could have sent him to prison.
Yet, thinking about it carefully, it was normal after all; in a world where everyone had an artificial body, if one didn’t allow the post-mortem handling of bodies, wouldn’t the rchants who recycle these artificial bodies beco black marketeers? And those who sell data from artificial bodies beco hackers? And those who collect dicine data, pathological features, collect...
Perhaps, in the beginning, it was illegal, but as those in need gradually lowered their standards, it naturally beca legal.
However, the audience was too lazy to care about these dismbered corpses being live stread (it was dissection! It was to explore the cause of death! by Bert) which would have been very eye-catching in any other stream. Their attention was always on the gambling table that the strear didn’t even cast a bit of light on.
At that mont, the two ghostly figures in front of the gambling table had fallen into sowhat of a hysterical state, and only the long-haired croupier, who had been pulled over, was able to maintain her composure. However, from the way she dealt cards, she seed also to be afraid of being slapped dead by the two ghosts at the table.
The gambling had been going on for nearly an hour, and as Bert continued to remove problematic diseased organs, the chips in front of the ghosts kept dwindling.
Now the ghost hand had only three black coins left, while the Dice Ghost had thirty-three chips left.
It wasn’t that the Dice Ghost had a greater chance of winning, because on closer inspection it was evident that these chips no longer bore human faces but were embossed with dice.
Yes, the Dice Ghost’s chips were completely lost over ten minutes ago, and the thirty-three chips remaining were what was left after pulling out a hundred from its own body.
At this mont in the live room, no one in the barrage was saying demoralizing things like "Stop gambling, strear" anymore. All the viewers, very tacitly, were using various gambling-related topics to entice the strear into saying phrases related to gambling and betting.
As viewers, they didn’t even know what the strear’s hole cards were but directed blindly—so perhaps deliberately aiming to make the strear lose. Amidst this guidance, Mr. Bert was losing less and winning more. If at the beginning of today’s stream he seed a little sub-healthy like a citrus fruit, now the healthy color of his skin, his clear eyes, and his hair quality so good it seed like it had special effects added, appeared as if his Life Spirit Light was about to overflow!
"Ah, really, these corpses must have been dead for at least three years. Are you sure this casino only closed down now? Or did too many people die here, finally leading to an investigation, so everything was dumped on the ghosts and they ran off?"
Bert stood up from the gambling table, rubbing his waist that was a bit sore from crouching for so long, only to find that his back wasn’t sore at all, which he remarked with so surprise:
"Eh, not tired? Could it be the protein powder I’ve been using lately? Hmm, I’ll talk to them when I get back, if they’re willing to pay, then I’ll help them promote their products..."
[Damn it, protein powder, Ghost brand protein powder, right?]
[Pah! Strear, strear, what do you think of the all-in move in Texas Hold’em poker?]
Seeing soone break the rules with Sarcasm, imdiately another viewer who loved a big scene jumped out to suppress it with their barrage. Bert, seeing this barrage, simply shook his head and said:
"Poker is different from simple slot machines and dice guessing. Beyond luck, psychological warfare is also crucial. The key to this zero-sum ga lies in intimidating the opponent, and going all-in, in itself, is about montum."
No sooner had he finished speaking than his body visibly aged right before their eyes. As he ford hundreds of chips at the gambling table, he also caused Bert to stumble at his feet, nearly falling over—
"Damn, I thought I was in good shape, but I’m just numb... Looks like I, the strear, need to drink so goji too, alas, that’s it for today. Let’s first pack up the samples."
Bert sighed, but the audience paid him no heed, each activating hologram mode and fixating on the two ghostly figures at the side of the gambling table.
The White Ghost Hand held its cards, glanced at them a couple of tis, then waved its hand dismissively. The gambling ghost, now with only thirty-three chips left, looked as though it were red-eyed with desperation, reaching out its tendrils and pulling out handfuls of coins from its body to slam onto the gambling table.
Although there was not a sound, almost every viewer could feel that desperate final attempt of a pathetic gambling ghost driven to the edge by his addiction to betting.
"At the end of the day, going all-in ans there’s no turning back. It’s a tactic that abandons all skill. Usually, there are two scenarios in which soone would choose to go all-in. The first is a last stand, where there’s no leeway to turn back, but one can’t give up, either. It’s a way to try to scare off the opponent, though it could also lure the enemy into a trap. The second is going all-in from the start, which is for when you know you can’t outplay your opponent psychologically, so you simply leave it all to luck..."
When Bert saw that no one was picking up on his goji berries, he didn’t press it. Instead, he took out a Ziploc bag, carefully packed the desiccated heart, eyeballs, and lobes of lungs, labeled them, and rambled on about the previous topic.
In a fitting scene at the gambling table, the White Ghost Hand, holding its last two black chips (one for each round’s minimum bet), crossed its legs in a relaxed pose and quietly watched the croupier deal the cards to both parties.
The gambling ghost, having seemingly hard its life source with that handful of chips, beca even more ethereal, its shadow hardly visible, and even used its tendrils to pick up the cards directly.
On the strear’s side, no one even bothered to look at their cards; the audience could only observe the four cards lying face-up on the table.
Despite the intense tension of the card ga, there was no sense of epicness at the mont; no three Kings against three century eggs, no royal flush of hearts against a spade flush. Both sides held a ss of unremarkable cards that weren’t even worth betting on a flush.
But low cards had their own gambles, and when the croupier flipped over the strear’s hole card to reveal a little three, completing a pair, the dice gambling ghost instantly waved its tendrils, rose to its feet, and lunged at the strear.
Though the cards hadn’t been revealed yet, everyone understood—this was the rage of a sore loser!
However, the strear’s usual luck was still at play. As the gambling ghost launched its frenzied attack, the chips transford into streaks of light, shooting like a teor shower into the strear’s body. The Life Spirit Light flared up with a handful of golden flas, literally bouncing the dice gambling ghost away.
Like a water-skipping stone, the gambling ghost bounced several tis between the ceiling and gambling table before finally disappearing into the darkness, while the pale White Ghost Hand clenched the three chips tightly, then flew back in front of the strear. It touched the strear’s shoulder as cautiously as one checking the temperature of their tea, hesitating several tis, before finally settling carefully on the strear’s shoulder and vanishing without a trace.
The long-haired female ghost looked around and, realizing there was nothing left for her, fled the casino as if flying, leaving only strear Bert, with his collection of organic and inorganic samples, heading towards the nearby police station as if nothing had happened.
[Damn, what the hell kind of luck is this!]
The chat was nearly instantly flooded with similar comnts, and at this emotionally charged mont, a new term began to slowly take shape inside Feng Xue’s body...
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