"Zhang Bin, you dare disrespect Buck? Then you can just wait to eat shit."

A conspiratorial smirk appeared on Changdao Sheng's face. He seemed confident he could catch up to Zhang Bin and ultimately surpass him in the rankings.

Sure enough, Buck took action. He went straight to the first-place winner of Group One, America's Gambling Saint, Edward, and began whispering in his ear.

As it happened, the competition for Group One had also concluded. The top spot was claimed by America's Gambling Saint, Edward. He had astonishingly won 2,500,000 USD, which was 520,000 USD more than Zhang Bin.

So, in the current standings, Edward was first, Zhang Bin was second, and Buck was third.

If nothing unexpected happened, the King of Gamblers would be one of these three.

A ferocious grin spread across Edward's face as he fixed his gaze on Zhang Bin.

He then strode over to Zhang Bin and said arrogantly, "Kid, I hear you're pretty cocky. Do you know where you are? This is our America. If I want you dead, you die. If I want you alive, you live. If I want you to be caught between life and death, you will be. Now, let me tell you. This time, you're guaranteed to eat shit!"

"If murder was allowed here, you'd have been a corpse a long time ago. An ant dares to be arrogant in front of me? I could crush you with a flick of my finger." Zhang Bin's eyes narrowed, emitting a glare as sharp as a dagger.

Of course, Edward was no weakling. On the contrary, he was an incredibly formidable expert. At forty-eight years old, after training his Special Abilities for over forty years, he was a bona fide SS-Level Psychic Master. Moreover, he possessed multiple types of Special Abilities, making him powerful to a terrifying degree. He could even effortlessly handle Cultivators in the Mid-stage Golden Core Realm.

But for Zhang Bin to call him an ant that he could crush effortlessly... How could Edward not be enraged? How could he not go mad?

Consequently, his expression grew icy, his eyes radiating a dagger-like sharpness. He lowered his voice and said, "Kid, if you make it back to China alive, then my name isn't Edward."

"It's a true anomaly that someone like you has managed to live this long. But don't worry, I'll be sending you on your way soon. You should cherish the life you have now. Otherwise, you'll regret it when you're in hell." An even colder, more chilling light shone from Zhang Bin's eyes.

At that moment, he realized that among all the competitors, the most ruthless and arrogant wasn't Changdao Sheng or Buck, but America's Gambling Saint, Edward.

In fact, Zhang Bin had even used Tutu to look up some information on Edward. Edward was the leader of a formidable American Special Ability Organization—Hell—which was why he was so arrogant and domineering. Hell was a nefarious Special Ability Organization whose members were all perverts, yet they were also incredibly strong and vicious. Without a doubt, Buck was also a member of the Hell Organization. The strange thing was, the Hell Organization had actually been officially recognized, and even registered, by the American government. When America conducted special operations, they would even dispatch experts from this organization.

That was why Zhang Bin had brought up Hell, to make it perfectly clear to Edward that he wasn't afraid of the organization in the slightest. His confidence stemmed from the fact that China's top experts were all in Las Vegas, preparing to attack the Underground Biological Base. Once chaos erupted, how could he possibly not find an opportunity to kill someone?

Besides, he had the miraculous Tutu, which could precisely track Edward's movements. He also had the incredible Wall-Piercing Ability, which was perfect for assassination. Ever since acquiring the Wall-Piercing Ability, he had never used it to kill anyone. Now, Edward had become his target. He would, without hesitation, exterminate anyone who tried to kill him.

"An ant dares to be arrogant in my presence." Murderous intent filled Edward's eyes. "Killing you is far too easy. With a mere thought, you'd become a corpse, and no one would ever find a shred of evidence linking it to me. But I don't want to kill you right now. I want to see you eat shit first."

With that, he let out a sinister laugh and whispered, "Curse Ability, activate! I curse you! May all your luck vanish! May you be plagued by misfortune, lose everything you have, and end up at the bottom of the rankings!"

Something miraculous happened. A bizarre black mist flew over and drilled into Zhang Bin's body. The space between his eyebrows darkened, giving him the appearance of being cursed with misfortune.

Even Zhang Bin himself could feel that disaster was imminent. It was a Cultivator's intuition.

Clearly, he had been struck by Edward's curse.

"HAHAHA... Zhang Bin, get ready to eat shit!"

Edward, Buck, and Changdao Sheng all burst into wild, excited laughter almost simultaneously.

Now that Zhang Bin was cursed, it was tantamount to a death sentence. There was absolutely no way he could win a single time.

The Curse Ability was, of course, an incredibly terrifying type of Special Ability, one that could even be used to directly curse someone to death. When Edward killed, he was fond of saying, "I curse you to die a quiet death." And those he cursed would quickly pass away without a sound. Killing in this way was even more terrifying than using Telekinesis, as it was completely unpreventable.

Of course, if Zhang Bin had cultivated to the Golden Core Realm, he might have been able to resist the curse. But having only cultivated to the Liquid Phase Middle Stage, he was unable to withstand it. Edward was an SS-level Psychic, and his Curse Ability was immensely powerful.

The competition continued.

This round was, surprisingly, Mahjong. Each contestant started with one million USD in chips. The players were split between two tables, four players at each, with two in reserve. A player who lost all their chips would be eliminated, and a reserve player would take their place in order. The game would conclude once another player went bankrupt. The final rankings would be determined by the total amount of money won, which would, of course, be added to the winnings from the first round.

As expected, Zhang Bin was clearly affected by the curse. He drew a spot in the first group, whose players were none other than Edward, Buck, and Changdao Sheng. The French dark horse, Hiber, was in reserve.

How could he possibly play in a situation like this? The three of them had already teamed up specifically to target him. In Mahjong, when three top masters team up against a single person, that person is bound to lose miserably, no matter how skilled they are. And what's more, he was cursed.

Moreover, Tutu wasn't much use this time. The mahjong tables here weren't like the ones in the Island Nation casinos; they had no pre-set programs or mechanisms to control the tiles or dice. Tutu had no way to manipulate them, which meant Zhang Bin had no way of drawing a good hand.

The match began shortly after. The stakes were high: 20,000 USD for winning from a discard and 40,000 USD for winning by self-draw.

Because he was cursed, Zhang Bin's luck was completely gone. The tiles he drew were a useless jumble, without a single useful piece among them. To make matters worse, he would immediately draw whatever tile he had just discarded, while any tile he held onto would never show up.

Consequently, for ten rounds straight, he didn't win a single hand. He never even got close to a winning state.

Meanwhile, Buck and the other two took turns winning by self-draw, their momentum unstoppable. Perhaps because Buck and Edward were intentionally throwing the game, Changdao Sheng went on to win three consecutive self-drawn hands.

By this point, Zhang Bin had lost 720,000 USD.

A little while longer and he would be eliminated.

Winning the world championship now was nothing more than a fool's dream. Even Changdao Sheng would soon catch up to and surpass him!

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