Chapter 150 The Bet
Before Jilan spoke, another male voice came from the side:
"Oh? Mr. Jilan is so sure?"
The Minister of Propaganda Zi Cordel came over, intentionally or unintentionally interposing between Gillan and Dedel, staring at the fight under the glass wall.
"Mr. Euan's strength is indeed good, but in fact, he is better at cane skills, and he only has a combined skill in unarmed combat."
He pointed at the man in sunglasses on the field.
"Facing Mr. Aslan, who specializes in fighting skills, his chances of winning are not great. What's more, Mr. Aslan is a senior heraldry-level fighter and has already reached the threshold of a master."< br>
“You only need to take one step further, find your own fighting style, study it, and then develop your own secret skills, and you will become a master.”
Cordell seems to be quite interested in fighting the two men. To understand, analyze clearly and logically.
And his words were more like explaining to Miss Dedel.
Gillan did not refute this, but showed interest.
In the past, he lacked a clear understanding of the master. He only thought that he had practiced martial arts to perfection, and had a physical fitness that exceeded the heraldry level.
According to what Cordell said, it turns out that you need to have a unique fighting style and master secret techniques before you can be called a master.
It seems that the flat-headed captain of the purification team was not a real master. Because he only has master-level physique and skills, but lacks secret skills.
It may be more appropriate to call him a "quasi-master".
The same goes for the four Cyborg guards of the Federation Colonel.
“Since you two have your own judgments, Gillan and Cordell, how about a game of bet?”
At this time, Prince also walked to the other side of Miss Dedel. On one side, he glanced at the two of them.
"I bet 200 gold on Caesar and bet that Mr. Aslan will win."
"Heh." Cordell smiled lightly and glanced at Prince with a hint of sarcasm. : "Prince, you still like to take advantage. You have listened to all my analysis. Don't you have your own opinions?"
"What a coincidence, I think so too, do you still need to say it?"
Prince shrugged and responded unceremoniously.
He turned around and suggested to everyone on the sofa:
"Let's all bet on one hand! It's a rare gathering, it would be boring without a lottery!"
"Okay. , Prince’s cousin.”
France smiled and agreed.
"Then I will also bet 200 Caesar, just like you, betting that Mr. Aslan will win."
The rest of the people saw this and responded to Prince's call with dignity, Participated in gambling together. Each one counts, and the lowest bet is 100 Caesar, all bets on Aslan winning.
The young people here are not stupid, and they have a certain understanding of the two members who are fighting. Cordell's analysis is spot-on, and Aslan has a significantly greater chance of winning.
The fighting competitions in the "Monthly Salon" are entertainment in nature, the bets are not big, and there are no exaggerated odds. In addition, there is a betting limit, which is a limit of 200 Caesars, so they will definitely choose the side with a greater chance of winning.
Upon seeing this, Milinda took the initiative to reach out and press the bell on the side of the sofa.
Dingle bell.
Not long after, the previous staff member came into the box holding a small book. After a conversation, he quickly registered everyone's bets one by one.
"Mr. Gillan, aren't you going to participate?"
Miss Didier couldn't help but curiously asked when she saw the young man in the black coat was silent.
Gillan shook his head.
"I don't like gambling." He said.
In his past life and this life, he never participated in gambling, no matter how big or small.
Because he is well aware of the evil nature of people, and he also knows that desires will be infinitely magnified in gambling, and eventually turn into man-eating beasts.
“It’s really boring.” Cordell said lightly.
The others also smiled.
Don’t like gambling?
Just an excuse.
As an illegitimate child, I guess he is short of money.
They also understand, and there is a tacit understanding that there is no joke.
"I'll also bet on 200 Caesars, but I'm just betting that Mr. Euan will win."
Dedel thought for a while, took out two "100" Caesars from a delicate and compact wallet, and handed them to The girl in uniform behind her.
Everyone was a little surprised.
Especially the two young men Prince and Cordell.
"Miss Didier, do you really believe what he said?" Prince frowned slightly and glanced at Gillan.
Deder still had that gentle smile. She looked at the others and explained:
“Everyone suppressed Mr. Aslan, but someone has to suppress the other side. That's interesting, isn't it? And what if Mr. Youan wins?"
She said, covering her mouth and laughing softly.
After hearing this, everyone was not easy to persuade.
It’s only 200 Caesars anyway, so losing is no big deal.
On the contrary, Miss Didier deliberately "sacrificed herself" to enhance the lively atmosphere of the gambling game and make them more favorable.
"It doesn't matter. When this game is over, I will give you half of the money I won, Miss Dedel."
Prince smiled pretending to be a gentleman.
“We can’t let you lose alone.”
"I will too." Cordell said with his hands in his pockets.
“Sister Didier, there is also Milinda’s share!”
Milinda said with a playful smile.
The others all agreed, saying that they would all share the winnings with Didier.
However, Daidel smiled and shook her head and said:
"Thank you all in advance. But the game is not over yet, are you so sure that you will win?"
"Then let's wait and see." Cordell said very confidently. "The competition between the two participating men has reached a fever pitch, and the winner is about to be decided."
After hearing this, everyone got up from the sofa and came to the glass wall.
They gathered together and cast their gazes downward, while Gilan was pushed to the edge.
He didn't care about it, he just stared at the two people on the field.
The gentlemen and ladies in the auditorium on the first floor took part in the competition. They were in high spirits, waving their hands or raising their fists, cheering for the team they had chosen.
The atmosphere on the field was enthusiastic, and the game reached a critical moment.
Mr. Aslan, who has short hair, a beard and strong muscles, stepped forward, and with a snap, he blocked the punch of the man with sunglasses, Youan, with his left hand. With a cold face, he suddenly swung away a backhand straight fist.
The punch hit Youan right in the abdomen.
Bang!
Youan arched his body and vomited stomach water from the corner of his mouth.
"Aslan! Aslan!!"
The audience cheered, and many people stood up with excited expressions.
Aslan pursued the victory and hit his opponent with a knee in the chest, followed by an elbow strike and hit Euan on the back.
Bang, bang, two muffled sounds, causing the opponent to stagger.
Anyone with a discerning eye can see that these two heavy blows have completely defeated Yuan's final counterattack.
As expected, Youan lost his balance and slowly fell down.
Including the young people in the box on the second floor, almost all the audience had already judged the outcome of this first fighting match.
Aslan wins for sure.
Prince smiled, but Cordell didn’t react at all, as if all this was what he expected.
But at this moment.
Euan, who was about to fall down, suddenly pounced forward.
He hugged Aslan's waist, and in response to the opponent's astonished expression, he turned around and threw him, slamming him onto the competition stage.
Bang! !
Aslan was hit unexpectedly and fainted on the spot.
The middle-aged referee was also surprised. After a moment of surprise, he quickly went on stage to report the count.
After dozens of countdowns, Aslan still failed to stand up.
"The first competition of 'Monthly Salon', Mr. Euan won!"
He announced loudly.
The whole place fell silent.
(End of this chapter)