Chapter Seventy-One: A Small Bet

Monte Carlo is renowned around the world as the city of gambling, the very emblem of Monaco. The magnificent Monte Carlo Casino, built in 1863, stands as a stately palace with a distinct air of antiquity. In front of its grand entrance lies an expansive square, a carefully manicured garden where every blade of grass and each blossom is meticulously tended. Flowers bloom in a riot of color, and beside the garden is a parking lot. At the very end of the garden, the palace-like structure houses the world-famous Monte Carlo Casino.

Wei Hua, accompanied by three women and over a dozen bodyguards, presented their passports and each paid a fee of ten francs before being granted a one-day membership pass, which allowed them entry into this palatial building. The interior exuded opulence: ornate walls and draperies, crystal chandeliers sparkling with diamond-like brilliance even in daylight, and deep red carpets underfoot. Attendants in immaculate formal attire moved about, lending an extraordinary atmosphere to the place. There was a stage suitable for operatic performances, and passing through another door brought them into a grand hall—the famed casino itself.

Wei Hua produced his checkbook and wrote a check for one million dollars, which he handed to a waiter. Soon, the waiter returned with a tray holding the chips Wei Hua had exchanged. Unable to resist, Wei Hua handed a share of chips to the three women, letting them play as they pleased while he wandered the casino with the remaining chips. The bodyguards followed the women, as was customary—Wei Hua never took bodyguards with him.

Most of the games in the casino were roulette, though other types of gambling were present as well. Wei Hua tried his hand at each, but found that losses far outnumbered wins—though he had come specifically for the thirty-five-to-one odds offered by roulette.

Approaching a crowded roulette table, Wei Hua began to place his bets—not on the simple odds of red or black, but directly on the numbers themselves, and with large sums at that, often over ten thousand dollars per bet. Utilizing his extraordinary mental abilities, he experimented with controlling the trajectory of the small ivory ball. At first, he lost consistently, using the time to observe the ball's motion and practice his control, careful to ensure that no external force could be detected. Before long, his chips were gone. Unperturbed, Wei Hua beckoned a waiter, wrote out another check for a million dollars, and soon had a fresh stack of chips. Yet luck seemed not to favor him—this second million vanished just as quickly. At this point, the three women—Kathleen, Jessie, and Mary—came to his side, urging him to stop, but Wei Hua was not one to give up. He wrote a third check, again for a million dollars.

Monte Carlo Casino is used to high rollers such as Wei Hua; each year, many gamblers wager fortunes, so the casino staff took little notice at first. But soon, the casino could not help but pay attention. On the surface, Wei Hua’s luck had turned. When he placed fifty thousand dollars on the number eighteen, the little ivory ball miraculously came to rest precisely in that slot. The three women cheered loudly. From that moment on, Wei Hua’s luck soared—every three or four bets, he hit the winning number, always betting on specific numbers. In a short time, he had won over twenty million dollars.

At that moment, a man in an expensive suit approached and introduced himself to Wei Hua: “Sir, I am the special affairs manager of the casino. We have a VIP room reserved for distinguished guests such as yourself, and there are quite a few high rollers playing there right now. Would you care to join them?” Wei Hua understood the implication: the casino had noticed how much he had won from the house, and was now inviting him to the VIP room to play against other guests.

“All right, let’s take a look!” Wei Hua replied, addressing the three women as much as the manager. “I feel especially lucky tonight—no way I can lose! Besides, since we’ve come all this way to Monte Carlo, we ought to enjoy ourselves to the fullest, don’t you agree?” With that, Wei Hua and the three women followed the manager into the VIP room.

Inside, the room was crowded. At the center, a large table was hosting a game of stud poker. Glancing around, Wei Hua was amused—what were the odds that so many familiar faces would be gathered here today? Seven or eight people sat around the table, three of whom Wei Hua recognized. The first was Onokura, head of the Hong Kong branch of the Japanese Yamaguchi-gumi. The second was Christina Onassis, the shipping magnate’s daughter. The third was the young member of the Rochechouart family, the very Frenchman who had clashed with Wei Hua’s group at the Moulin Rouge nightclub.

Seeing these people’s money on the table delighted Wei Hua. The casino manager brought him to the table and introduced him as a new participant. Stud poker was well-suited to newcomers; the more players, the merrier, and these seasoned gamblers cared little about new faces. But when Onokura recognized Wei Hua, he immediately stood up and greeted him warmly in Japanese: “Mr. Wei Hua! Long time no see! How have you been? May I ask where you are staying? I would like to pay my respects.”

Wei Hua was momentarily taken aback by Onokura’s courtesy, but he knew enough to return a friendly gesture. Besides, he had no fear of any tricks from Onokura. He replied in Japanese, informing Onokura of their hotel.

Miss Christina Onassis offered Wei Hua a gentle smile, which he returned in kind. As for the Rochechouart scion, he glared at Wei Hua like an enraged bull, especially when he saw Christina smile at him. His breath came in heavy snorts, until Christina, noticing his agitation, discreetly tugged at his arm, prompting him to turn away and ignore Wei Hua.

The gambling resumed. This was, after all, the VIP room, and its patrons were all of immense wealth. The minimum bet was half a million dollars, with no upper limit.

Ladies and gentlemen, bring on whatever you’ve got!