Chapter 11: The Aura Shield

Luke had the cheat of system potions, so the outcome of this wager was predetermined. After ten rounds, Anatoly hadn’t won a single game.

Before the bet began, they agreed to the rules: as promised, Anatoly lost another hundred chips to Luke, which amounted to ten thousand dollars.

At that moment, Anatoly sat there in a daze, his face ashen, eyes vacant, as if questioning the meaning of life…

The glamorous woman by his side had vanished long ago, afraid she’d become Anatoly’s scapegoat. Life as a plaything was miserable enough.

Amidst the cheers and reverence, Luke rose like a king who had accomplished his mission, leaving the crowd to part and make way for him. He asked the casino to settle his chips.

Meanwhile, in a concealed surveillance room of the casino, someone was watching the footage from the entire night. Ambitious casinos often hire gambling experts to hold the fort. Tonight, there happened to be a reputed former gambling king from Las Vegas presiding over this establishment.

Now, in the surveillance room, the casino manager had invited this gambling king, Paul, to review tonight’s events. Just as Luke had anticipated, the peculiar occurrences at his table had long attracted the casino’s suspicion.

“Mr. Paul, take a look—is this guy cheating?” The manager wiped the sweat from his brow, exhausted.

News had just come in: the dwarf had taken seventy-five thousand dollars from the casino tonight.

Seventy-five thousand wasn’t a small sum—almost the annual income of an average American household.

Of course, for a casino, it was nothing. Normally, it wouldn’t matter. But tonight, everything felt off, tinged with an eerie strangeness…

The manager felt it necessary to investigate.

Paul was a meticulous middle-aged man, well-paid, and vaguely aware of the mysterious owner behind the casino. Now was the moment for him to prove his worth.

Yet, after carefully replaying the footage several times, he shook his head with difficulty. “Cheating at Sic Bo? That’s extremely hard.”

He watched a while longer, then hesitated. “Unless this person’s gambling skills surpass mine, I don't think he’s cheating…”

In other words, he believed tonight’s game was normal…

Normal? Not a chance!

The casino manager wanted to curse. This was normal? He wasn’t blind! The dwarf was obviously not normal!

A vein throbbed on the manager’s forehead. “Don’t tell me this damned dwarf won all night just on luck?”

Paul’s face twitched.

Truthfully, Paul didn’t believe anyone could be so lucky. It was bizarre. But he couldn’t find any sign of cheating. Throughout, Luke’s hands never left the camera’s view.

Unless the man’s skill had reached perfection, able to cheat with his feet…

The more Paul knew, the more confused he became.

After a while, the manager sighed deeply, stepped aside, and dialed a phone number.

Once connected, he spoke with utmost humility and respect, almost as if consulting, “Have you heard?”

A brief silence, then a calm, deep voice replied, “No one can take Goldstein’s money so easily.”

“Yes, yes, I understand!” The manager wiped his cold sweat and hung up.

He signaled to a black bodyguard behind him, who immediately understood and hurried out.

Holding the heavy bank card in his hand, Luke was a little dazed.

The casino had arranged everything for him, with complete procedures and no need for the account holder to appear. It was a black casino, after all, accustomed to such dealings.

There was seventy-five thousand dollars in the card. Luke had never possessed so much money before.

“How many boxes could this open…” Luke thought with satisfaction.

“Hey, you’re just going to leave?” Lotus, perched on his shoulder, seemed dissatisfied with the outcome and urged, “Why not blow this place sky-high?”

“Don’t rush,” Luke smiled quietly.

After leaving the casino alone, he walked into a dim alley, lingering intentionally for a few minutes. Before long, the alley was surrounded.

“So quick to act?” Luke had expected this, a cold smile curling at his lips as he stood still.

“Kill them all! Wipe them out!” Lotus shouted, excited.

Four muscular men approached from both ends of the alley, trying to corner Luke. In the faint light, Luke recognized two of them from the casino, mingling among the gamblers.

He figured they were either sent by the casino or tied to the Russian mafia, Anatoly’s group.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Luke feigned panic, stepping back.

One man grinned coldly—a Russian accent coloring his English—“Anatoly sends his regards.”

Without another word, all four drew sharp knives and lunged at Luke.

“Qi Shield!”

Luke didn’t dare take the blades head-on, lacking such ability for now. A dazzling orange barrier quickly unfolded around him in all directions, forming an energy shield with a radius of about one meter, translucent and orange.

The faces of the four men were instantly illuminated, surprise written across them. Two slammed into the shield and were bounced back several steps.

They tried stabbing with their knives, but the shield wouldn’t budge; instead, their blades were flicked away.

“What the hell is this thing!?”

They were utterly shocked—the scene before them defied all logic.

Luke, however, was prepared, confident in his Qi Shield’s defensive power. He’d tested it before; the shield could withstand three consecutive strikes from his sword before breaking.

With a cold smile, Luke stepped forward and landed a precise punch on one Russian’s chest.

A cracking sound echoed as the man’s ribs broke, sending him flying at least three meters.

The others watched in astonishment.

Luke had no intention of holding back. If the roles were reversed, they’d certainly aim to kill him. None of these gangsters were good people.

In the dim alley, muffled groans, bones breaking, and heavy bodies hitting the ground resounded. Within the shield’s radius, Luke’s every punch knocked someone down.

In just a few breaths, he had effortlessly dispatched the four knife-wielders.

They wanted to fight back, but Luke never left the shield’s protection, so he could hit them while they couldn't even touch him. All four collapsed, unconscious.

Turning to leave, Luke heard the sound of footsteps outside the alley. He paused, keeping the shield up.

Five men appeared at the alley’s entrance, each holding a gun.

Suddenly, they opened fire!

The dry, firecracker-like gunshots shattered the silence of Hell’s Kitchen’s night. Without a word, the five men fired at Luke.

“These must be Goldstein’s men,” Luke mused behind his shield. Bullets struck the energy barrier, each impact rippling across it like drops of water. Not one bullet penetrated, but the shield dimmed noticeably.

The five emptied a magazine, then stopped, only to find Luke unharmed.

Shocked, they quickly realized it was the shield protecting him.

“Keep firing!”

They replaced their magazines and continued shooting. The gunfire rattled the street, echoing through the night.

These gunmen were far more ruthless than the four Russian mafiosi. Their goal was clear: kill the dwarf Luke was impersonating.

Luke had definitely angered some powerful people tonight.

Watching the shield flicker and fade, Luke knew this couldn’t last. It was time to fight back.

He flipped his small hand, and suddenly, a small bottle appeared. Inside, glowing contents shimmered.

These were homemade electric grenades, a skill he’d learned recently.

Luke tossed one at the five gunmen, immediately raising a new Qi Shield.

The bottle rolled to their feet. They hesitated, unfamiliar with the object.

Then—an explosion thundered! The blast shook the alley’s walls.

Screams rang out at the entrance; gunfire ceased. Through the shield, Luke saw blue-white electricity crackling around the men.

Two who survived the blast twitched on the ground, convulsing until they went still.

“So that’s the electric effect…” Luke muttered.

He saw bloodied, mangled limbs, torn flesh—stomach churning, he quickly turned away, but couldn’t help vomiting as he leaned against the wall.

“Well done! Beautiful! Kill them all! Let the glory of the Apostle cover the world!” Lotus cheered, thrilled, perched on Luke’s shoulder. Ever since their crossing, it had waited for this moment.

Seeing Luke’s discomfort, Lotus mocked, “Pathetic! You can’t handle a little blood? Just broken arms, legs, fresh guts and slippery intestines—get used to it.”

Luke vomited again.

Afterward, he complained, “Don’t forget, I was just an ordinary person before this. Never mind the killing, I’d never even seen such a bloody scene. Movies don’t count. I was a shut-in! Do you get that?”

“Pfft, whatever.” Lotus shrugged, crossing its stubby tentacles, humming indifferently.

It had picked up some twisted motivational lines somewhere: “People are made to adapt. You have to learn to survive in the cracks…”

Luke was speechless for a moment. “…That’s so true, I can’t even argue.”