In the blink of an eye, a hundred and fifty million was gone right before his eyes. How could he not be pissed off and depressed.
Zhang Jun snapped and questioned him: "Fast Hand King, I think you've been shooting that pistol too much, how come this is all you've got?"
The other side replied helplessly: "Young Master Zhang, I already performed normally. It's just that Li Fei's strength is freakishly insane, otherwise how would Gambling King Ma have lost to him?"
"Normally my ass. You got wrecked by Li Fei at the game you're best at. Aren't you just digging your own grave."
"Mr. Paul, what the hell is wrong with you today?" At this moment, Liu Jiawei couldn't hold it in and asked.
"Don't question my strength. It's the opponent who's too strong—no flaws at all, he simply doesn't give me any chance to win."
"So how much confidence do you have for the next round?"
