"Probably another Great Rise! The pattern is undeniable.""If this one rises too, then this cutting machine has produced four Great Rises in a row today. That's statistically impossible. It would be a legend in the Stone Gambling world! People will be worshiping this machine tomorrow!"The buzz of the crowd fed Chuck Wainright's ego like gasoline on a fire. He straightened his back, feeling invincible. He had the money, he had the best stone, and soon, he would have the glory.Chuck's gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Frank, who was quietly trying to slip away with Jade Lacy, looking like he wanted to avoid the spotlight."Hey! Frank!" Chuck called out loudly, stopping him in his tracks. "You cut three winners today. Your luck is hot. How about you cut this Windowed Rough Stone for me? Maybe your luck will rub off on my stone and make it even better. I'll even give you a tip."In the world of Stone Gambling, luck was a tangible commodity. People believ

Terms not in glossaryNone – all terms have been covered."You two, please stop staring at me like that," Frank said, his expression radiating pure innocence. "I'm telling you the truth—I really was just guessing."Vivi's lips formed a pretty pout, her skepticism written all over her face. "You expect me to believe you'd gamble over forty million dollars on a blind guess?"Frank shrugged with an easy confidence that seemed almost absurd under the circumstances. "Haven't you heard that saying about casinos? Beginners always win at first. I'm new to stone gambling, so I figured I should be winning too. Beginner's luck and all that."The explanation was so naive, so childishly simple, that Jade couldn't help but smile despite herself. There was something almost charming about the way Frank delivered it with such apparent sincerity.Over at the cutting station, Chuck stood staring at the four pieces of cut stone laid out before him—the f

The realization hit the leader of the ambush like a splash of ice water. He paused, his imposing silhouette framed by the harsh glare of the headlights. He had been careful to modulate his voice, dropping it an octave, adding a gravelly rasp to disguise his identity. How in the hell had this kid recognized him?But Blaze was a professional. He didn’t waste time dwelling on the mistake. The element of surprise was gone, but the advantage of overwhelming force remained. He didn't bother denying it. Instead, he made a sharp, cutting gesture with his hand, signaling the men standing behind him."Change of plans," Blaze growled, his voice now stripped of the theatrical disguise, cold and efficient. "Don't kill him yet. Cripple one of his legs first. Make sure he can't walk. As for the two women... save them for the finale. We’ll have our fun once the heavy lifting is done."At the sound of their boss’s command, the atmosphere on the desolate stretch of th

"President Jennings, regarding the financing round... I'm really counting on you. Let me toast you again."Cloud Lee’s face was already flushed with a heavy, crimson hue. She stood up, her legs slightly unsteady beneath the table, and raised her wine glass toward one of the men seated at the large round table. Her vision was blurring at the edges, the luxurious decor of the Ink Flower Pavilion swimming in her sight, but she forced a professional smile.The man surnamed Jennings stood up as well, his smile practiced and oily. "Cloud, come on now. We’re old acquaintances. There’s no need for such formality. Leave the capital issues to me. I’ve got you covered."He patted his chest with a theatrical display of generosity, the picture of a reliable ally.They clinked glasses. Cloud Lee tilted her head back and drained the contents in one go. The liquid fire of the high-proof Baijiu scorched her throat, settling in her stomach like a hot stone,

Once the Nine-Cycle Soul Return Needle formation was complete, Frank Yates’s vision shifted. To his spirit-enhanced eyes, the translucent gray shadow hovering over the little girl’s body—her fleeing Soul Essence—halted its ascent. It was no longer drifting toward the Gates of Hell, but it remained stubbornly detached, refusing to sink back into the physical vessel."It’s not enough," Frank thought, sweat trickling down his spine. "I need to force it back in."He extended his left hand, fingers pressed tightly together, and hovered his palm just inches above the girl's forehead. To the onlookers, the gesture looked mystical, almost like a priest performing a last rite or a magician preparing a trick. Even the police officers, who were busy documenting the crash site, paused to stare.The mother, Joy’s mom, sat on the cold asphalt, her bloody hands clasped together. She had stopped screaming. Now, she just watched Frank’s left h