The Vampire Tycoon Secretly Loves Me - Chapter 10

The place Ye Linghan had come to was the only—and largest—underground casino in the entire East City. Behind every room wrapped in black soundproof cotton, the walls served to conceal the clashing of chips and the cacophony of human voices.

At the same time, there was a real-deal live-fire shooting range here. Its purpose, however, was for the winners’ amusement; the objects of that amusement were the gamblers who could not repay their debts.

They used living people as targets, and the wager was left entirely to fate. If one encountered a creditor with poor marksmanship, they might luckily survive, and their previous debts would be wiped clean. Conversely, they could have no complaints; after all, life and death are decreed by fate, and one always has to pay a price.

But Ye Linghan had never participated in such things. He neither lent money nor gambled; he simply loved the thrill of shooting and would frequently come here to fire a few rounds in his spare time.

“Master, the old spot—it’s been reserved for you all along.” Xu Zilian led Ye Linghan through a dim corridor lined with private boxes on both sides, heading toward the innermost section.

As they passed one of the boxes, Ye Linghan felt as if an electric current had surged through his brain. A stabbing pain instantly flooded his entire body, accompanied by spasms in his limbs. He staggered uncontrollably.

“Master!” Xu Zilian was quick-witted and reached out to support Ye Linghan. His face was full of worry. “Master, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Ye Linghan waved his hand and bent over, resting both hands on his knees. Small beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. The last time he had experienced this feeling was when he encountered the taxi driver, but it hadn’t been severe then, and he hadn’t paid it much mind.

Fortunately, it did not last long. After a brief moment of recovery, Ye Linghan stood up unsteadily and looked at the door behind them, asking Xu Zilian, “Is there anyone inside today?”

Xu Zilian nodded. “Yes, I remember they arrived not long before you, Master. And there’s a large group of them—I don’t know what they’re doing.” Xu Zilian curled his lip; being a child who didn’t involve himself in business, he didn’t care much.

“Master, did something happen? Do you want me to have my father call them out?”

Ye Linghan hurriedly waved his hand. “No, no need. I was just asking. Let’s go.”

He certainly wanted to know exactly who was inside, but it couldn’t be through Xu Zilian. Otherwise, since almost no one who came to a place like this had a clean background, he couldn’t risk having Xu Zilian’s family targeted.

After following Xu Zilian to his private room, Ye Linghan looked at the displays in the room with some emotion; it had indeed been a while since he last visited.

Everything in the room had been built for Ye Linghan by Xu Zilian’s father, Xu Chushan. The entire room belonged to Ye Linghan alone; no one else was allowed to enter except him.

The fact that Ye Linghan visited the underground casino was completely unknown to those around him—even Yin Chen didn’t know.

Ye Linghan took off his mask and duckbill cap, then put on his protective gear. Standing in front of the table, he rapidly assembled the handgun on the surface. He then raised his hand, aimed at the bullseye, and pulled the trigger. With a bang, the bullet flew out, striking the red center of the target.

Luckily, he still had the feel for it.

Ye Linghan fired several more rounds to satisfy his craving before placing the handgun back on the table and removing his protective gear.

“Master is so amazing!” To the side, Xu Zilian cheered repeatedly. The room was very soundproof, so no matter how loud the noise was, it wouldn’t leak out.

Ye Linghan usually looked quite thin, as if he didn’t have much meat on his bones, but now that he was wearing tight-fitting clothes, the muscle lines beneath the fabric were faintly visible, accentuating his narrow waist and long legs. His physique was very well-maintained.

He smiled and picked up the handgun from the table, tossing it to Xu Zilian. “Load it yourself and let me see you practice.”

“Okay!” Xu Zilian caught the gun, his every movement carrying the air of Ye Linghan’s style. He mimicked Ye Linghan by loading the bullets, then aimed at the bullseye and fired. However, being young and lacking experience, he only hit the eight-ring on his first try.

Xu Zilian turned back to look at Ye Linghan. “Master, this isn’t my true level! Usually, I can hit the nine-ring!”

Ye Linghan walked forward and patted Xu Zilian on the head. “Alright, I believe you.” As he spoke, he stood beside Xu Zilian. Because of the height difference, Ye Linghan had to lean down. After adjusting the boy’s posture and angle, his large hand enveloped the small hand to pull the trigger. The bullet flew out, striking the bullseye directly.

“Do you remember that feeling?” Ye Linghan asked.

Xu Zilian looked up and nodded vigorously. “I remember!”

“Good. Then you find the feeling first; I’m going to the restroom.”

After giving his instructions, Ye Linghan left the room and headed straight for the surveillance room.

In another private box, the lights were brilliantly lit, making it impossible to tell how many souls had once been buried there.

In the very center of the floor stood a cross. Tied to it was a person whose face was covered by a black cloth hood. To the left, right, and top of the person’s head, targets had been placed, surrounding the man’s head.

Fifty meters directly in front of the man was a long table lined with various types of firearms. About a dozen people stood around it, all staring hungrily at the person on the cross.

One man, draped in a black cloak with a mask vertically covering half of his face, casually picked up a handgun from the table. He expertly spun it twice around his index finger and then chambered a round. As the crisp sound echoed, the murmurs in the surroundings died down.

The man nimbly flicked his wrist, the pitch-black, gleaming body of the gun spinning on his fingers. He paced toward the bound man, and upon reaching him, he yanked away the black cloth covering the person’s head.

Perhaps because he had been hooded for too long, his eyes were unaccustomed to light. Stimulated by the intense brightness, the bound man blinked hard and shook his head. His face was a mass of bruises mixed with dried blood; one eye was swollen shut, but he still managed to reveal a sliver of sight.

When he saw the person before him, his face filled with shock. Then, he burst into curses: “Duan Jiu! Is it not enough for you to guard your Ling City? You had to come to my South City to take a piece of the pie? With such a large appetite, aren’t you afraid of choking to death?”

Wang De? Wasn’t he taken care of! Why would he appear here?

And those eyes… they seem familiar.

Ye Linghan narrowed his eyes, carefully scrutinizing the eyes of Duan Jiu beneath the half-mask.

In the corner of the surveillance room, the guard sat against the wall with his eyes closed, saying nothing.

Ye Linghan, wearing his mask and hat, sat in the chair, his eyes glued to the screen, watching that blurry face—the only one he had ever seen.

Who was this Duan Jiu that Wang De mentioned? He had never heard the name.

Ye Linghan held a single earphone to his ear; every sound in the box entered his ears without missing a beat.

Inside the box, the man named Duan Jiu let out a cold laugh. “Heh.” He patted Wang De’s face with the body of the gun. “So? To the victor go the spoils. Facts prove that I can swallow it.”

The icy metal of the gun brushed against Wang De’s cheek, forcing him to instinctively shrink his neck. Large drops of cold sweat fell onto the black handgun, scattering into even smaller droplets that splashed onto Duan Jiu’s hand.

The arrogance born of impulse had long since vanished. He knew these people were capable of anything.

Human nature is to fear death. No matter how tough one acts beforehand, at the moment of impending death, the sense of terror will surely take over.

“Disgusting.” Duan Jiu frowned, looking at the sweat on the back of his hand with loathing. He briefly lowered his hand and shook off the liquid that sickened him.

Wang De’s gaze was fixed on Duan Jiu’s every move. His Adam’s apple slid up and down nervously as he asked in a trembling voice, “You… what exactly do you want to do?”

“Tell me, what do you think the end is for a discarded pawn?”

“I’m not! I’m not!” Out of terror, Wang De struggled desperately to break free, but the ropes were tied too tightly for him to escape. His gaze gradually became scattered, and his chest heaved rapidly as if he had lost his soul.

“Oh~” Duan Jiu’s tone curved upward. He turned and walked backward a few steps. When he reached the table, he suddenly spun around, simultaneously raising his arm and pointing the handgun directly at the center of Wang De’s brow.

Originally, seeing Duan Jiu turn away, Wang De thought there might be a chance for survival. He had just breathed a sigh of relief when his heart leaped into his throat again.

At the same time, Ye Linghan subconsciously leaned forward, his hand gripping the earphone, tightening involuntarily.

Duan Jiu’s voice came through the earphone again: “Tell me, how can you be so stupid? You managed South City for so long, yet you haven’t improved at all. It was one thing to lose control and hurt someone on the roadside last time, but how is it that this time you still can’t control your own mouth?”

Losing control? Hurting someone on the roadside? Sitting before the monitor, Ye Linghan’s brow furrowed. No wonder he had seen scars on Wang De’s arm when he left the scene last time.

But isn’t he a vampire? Why didn’t he heal?

Looking through the monitor, Wang De was so terrified he was nearly speechless. His throat made “ge, ge—” sounds, and his mouth opened repeatedly without producing a single syllable.

Then, Duan Jiu’s voice came again.

“Luckily, you weren’t completely brain-dead last time; after the incident, you crawled back to your South City. Opportunities were given to you afterward, but what did you do?”

“Stop talking, stop talking,” Wang De murmured in a trembling voice, his tone laced with a sob.

Suddenly, for some reason, Wang De began to twitch uncontrollably. He kept muttering something under his breath, his hand reaching forward as if he wanted something.

He spoke very unclearly. Ye Linghan couldn’t hear it well and had to press the earphone closer, turning up the volume to discern it. Finally, based on the lip movements, Ye Linghan analyzed that Wang De was begging Duan Jiu for medicine.

Duan Jiu tilted his head and gestured with his chin to the person beside him. The person understood, stepped forward, took a medicine bottle from their pocket, poured out a pill, and carelessly stuffed it into Wang De’s mouth.

Only after the pill was swallowed with difficulty did Wang De’s discomfort gradually ease, and he began to take large gulps of air.

He looked up, meeting Duan Jiu’s cold eyes. “I beg you, stop talking. Just give me a quick end!” With the dark, hollow muzzle of the gun pointed at him at all times, there was a risk of accidental discharge at any second. How could he not be terrified? Every moment was torture for him.

“Is that so?” Duan Jiu meaningfully waved the gun back and forth, the muzzle pressing against the center of Wang De’s brow before sliding bit by bit to the target at the side of his head. “Or is it like this?” Then, before Wang De could react, Duan Jiu quickly slid the gun back, pointing it at the center of his brow once more.

Wang De was so scared he didn’t dare to breathe.

“Oh dear, but I’ve been holding this up so long that my hand is getting tired. What should we do?”

Wang De simply closed his eyes, his body trembling incessantly.

Seeing this scene, Ye Linghan’s hand gripping the earphone suddenly clenched until his knuckles turned white. He wasn’t a particularly kind-hearted person, but he couldn’t watch a person die right before his eyes.

Ye Linghan wanted to stand up, but he suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder as he was heavily pressed back into his seat.

Ye Linghan turned his head and saw a man wearing a black cloak and a full-face mask standing behind him. The man’s palm was resting on his shoulder; it was unknown how long he had been standing there.

“Who are you?” Ye Linghan asked.

The person did not answer his question, only saying, “I advise you to mind your own business.” His voice was muffled; it was clear he was deliberately suppressing it to avoid showing his original voice.

“What do you mean?” Ye Linghan spoke, and then, catching the person off guard, he surged upward, reaching out to rip off the man’s cloak. However, the man reacted a step faster, grabbing Ye Linghan’s reaching hand, then quickly flitting behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist to restrain him in his embrace.

“What are you doing!” Ye Linghan’s back slammed into the man’s chest. It hurt, and it was a position that offered no sense of security—the equivalent of leaving his back completely exposed to a stranger. He tried to struggle, but it was all in vain.

While the two were at a deadlock, a bang suddenly came through the earphones. Ye Linghan whipped his head around, his eyes widening. On the screen, a bullet had been fired from Duan Jiu’s gun toward Wang De.