Chapter 503

Carrying a briefcase, Roger was led up the steps by a staff member. The men who seemed to be both greeters and security guards only escorted him to the end of the red carpet.

Any further inside was beyond the scope of their duties.

Although these men were there to protect the casino in addition to greeting guests, for the wealthy patrons, seeing people who didn’t belong wandering around with weapons would make them uneasy.

Inside the entire casino, wherever there were gambling tables, there were no security guards—only waiters, dealers, and escort girls.

The moment Roger’s foot crossed into the main hall, a sweet-looking girl who appeared to be only 23 or 24, wearing a long red dress, naturally took his arm and led him toward the counter.

The main job of these escort girls was to accompany the guests for a pleasant evening. The casino would inform guests that they did not offer prostitution services.

But at the same time, they would also tell the guests that if they managed to charm an escort girl, they were free to take her with them.

For these middle-aged men, there was nothing more satisfying than winning money and, at the same time, winning over a young, beautiful girl who admired them immensely.

The escort girls’ income was primarily derived from this.

Tips, and overnight fees.

It was said that on one occasion, a girl received an overnight fee of 20,000 just for sleeping with her client in a hotel.

This led to the increasingly high quality of the escort girls here. They could be university students, elite white-collar managers from corporations, or even middle-class housewives in need of some extra income…

Before he even reached the counter, the two girls inside bowed to Roger.

“Good evening, sir. How may I help you?”

They were standing, and they were always standing.

In a place like this, there was no reason for esteemed clients to stand while humble staff sat. Therefore, there were no chairs behind the counter; everyone had to stand, and for six hours at a time.

Standing for six hours a day brought them an income of about 50 a month. It seemed like a very strenuous job for little pay.

However, that wasn’t the case. Here, the salary was the most insignificant part of their earnings. Their real income came from tips.

From the 10 and 20-dollar bills the guests carried, to potentially a 100-dollar chip as the smallest denomination, on a good month, the tips they received could be ten, or even dozens of times their salary.

If they were willing to put in some extra effort, their income would be even higher.

Without any prompting, they would treat every single guest like a god.

The gentleman who came in was carrying a briefcase. He placed it on the counter and pushed it through the slot. “Change this into chips.”

The counter girl quickly opened the briefcase. It was filled with 20-dollar bills, each stack containing 100 bills, amounting to 2,000.

There were… twenty stacks in total, which was 40,000.

In other places, 40,000 would be a lot of gambling money, but here, it wasn’t much.

Soon, the chips were exchanged as per Roger’s request. Roger noticed they placed the empty briefcase to the side and tagged it with a “member number.” There were quite a few cases there.

“Looks like it’s busy tonight.”

The counter girl spread the counted chips out on a red velvet mat for the guest to confirm before placing them in a chip box. “Yes, it’s the weekend, so it’s very busy tonight!”

“Here are your chips.”

The guest left a 20-dollar tip and, amidst the girl’s thanks, took the chip box and entered the casino.

He went to a window on the second floor and lit a cigarette…

In the distance, Lance saw Roger smoking by the window through his binoculars. He pulled his ski mask down and patted the driver’s seat.

The modified convoy burst through the curtain of shadow in a dark alley and into the moonlight. The streets were still busy with cars at night, as lively as during the day. This somewhat strange convoy attracted the attention of some passersby.

But once they entered the grounds of the Kodak Club, the attention on them noticeably dropped.

Rich people were always like that, doing unexpected things.

Five cars lined up in front of the club’s main entrance. The employee in charge of greeting guests was stunned for a moment but responsibly went to meet them.

Before he could get close, all the car doors flew open. Before he had time to react, his face a mask of bewilderment, Lance raised his hand and fired a shot.

The weapon was fitted with a silencer. The men on the steps were hit one after another amidst the low-thumping pupupu of the gunshots and tumbled down.

As Lance walked up the steps, he glanced at his watch and tapped its face.

From now on, seven minutes.

He was at the front, taking two or three steps at a time. The others followed closely behind, each holding a silenced weapon.

The purpose of using silenced weapons was to delay being discovered and the police being called for as long as possible.

In a situation like this, even an extra ten or twenty seconds could mean getting a street corner ahead of the police and the Kodak Family’s pursuers in the chase to come.

A single street corner could be the key to shaking off pursuit.

Near the grand, towering entrance, several security guards in casino uniforms were walking over. They froze when they saw the masked men rushing up. Before their hands could even touch the hem of their coats, let alone the weapons on their waists, they fell to the ground and rolled away.

When Lance rushed through the main entrance, although some staff members were looking out, they had no sense of crisis, completely unaware of what was happening.

This was the Kodak Family’s casino. No one would be so blind as to cause trouble here.

Until they saw the thugs with guns rushing in.

Alan ran to the counter, stuck the explosive charge onto the glass wall, and activated the switch. The others quickly took cover.

Before the staff inside the counter could realize what was happening, the explosion erupted.

The custom-made bulletproof glass wall shattered into a white mess under the blast wave, and a large hole was blown right where the bomb was placed.

Shards of glass flew everywhere.

At the same time, the alarm bell suddenly blared.

This was not an underground casino; it was a licensed, legal Federation casino, one that paid taxes.

Like a bank, it had a very reliable alarm system.

Alarm systems had been developed around the time the telephone was invented. All it took was the press of a button, and an electrical signal was sent to a dedicated office at the police station.

They would call to ask if it was a false alarm. If it was, the duty officer would cancel the alarm.

If it wasn’t, the police department would dispatch officers to the scene.

If the phone call didn’t go through, they would also dispatch officers to check.

Banks, financial institutions, and places with potentially large cash flows were all connected to such an alarm system.

The moment the alarm sounded, the police station had already received the signal. They would arrive soon.

Lance’s left hand was covered by a thick glove. He tore away a dangling piece of broken glass and led the way into the counter area.

The people inside the counter and behind it in the vault finally reacted. Someone immediately tried to push the vault door shut, but they were a little too late. Lance raised his hand and fired, and they fell one by one.

So many people chose the wrong action at the wrong time. It really wasn’t worth it, for the sake of some company.

In just a few seconds, the vault door was secured.

At the same time, the men outside opened the door to the counter and rushed in with two small carts.

Lance grabbed a travel bag from one of the carts, unzipped it, and threw it at his feet. With one hand holding the bag open, he used the other to sweep the neatly stacked piles of cash from the table into it.

The young men who followed him in were stunned by the sight—a room full of money, and gold bars!

They immediately joined the money-grabbing frenzy.

Upstairs, Stone was reviewing this month’s accounts when he suddenly felt the building beneath him shake.

The room was well soundproofed, so he didn’t hear the explosion, but he immediately frowned.

He walked to the window and looked out. In the casino hall, many people were moving towards the entrance, as if something had happened.

But he couldn’t see from his position. He immediately picked up the phone. “What’s happening down there?”

The voice on the other end was filled with panic, and some gunshots could be heard. “Someone used a bomb to blow open the counter…”

“Fuck!”

“Have someone stop them!”

The person on the phone froze for a moment. How were they supposed to stop them?

With their bodies?

“We’re trying!”

“Fuck!” Stone was losing it. He ran back to his desk, took out a spare handgun and magazine from a drawer, and burst through the door, running for the stairs.

The elevator would take a while; running was faster now.

The main hall had descended into chaos. For these wealthy people, the sound of gunfire was the most terrifying thing in the world.

They had money, power, and social status. They lived in this world to enjoy life.

And bullets were the one thing that could take it all away.

Looking at the panicked and terrified customers, and then at the firefight happening at the entrance, Stone could only grit his teeth and start reassuring the guests.

He knew very well that even if he went to the entrance, he couldn’t change anything.

He wasn’t some superhero who could face down bullets that could kill him.

He wasn’t some super sharpshooter who could take down an enemy with every shot.

He was just an ordinary gang leader with mediocre aim who couldn’t take a bullet or two. His presence on the battlefield wouldn’t bring about any direct change and might even make things worse—

The security guards and gunmen would have to be distracted to protect him. After all, if he died, Gorry and Bandy would go insane.

At this point, the travel bag at Lance’s feet was nearly full. He zipped it up, tossed it back onto the cart, and started on a second bag.

The vault was filled with tables, all covered in neatly stacked bills. The whole space reeked of the corrupting smell of money.

He took a moment to glance at his watch. One and a half minutes of safe time left…

Four police cars sped out of the station, heading towards the club. They had their sirens on, and many cars on the road proactively pulled over.

This had little to do with the character of the Federation’s citizens; they just didn’t want to get into trouble—

If their failure to yield the road led to the failure to stop a crime, it was possible that a prosecutor or a victim could sue them.

They yielded out of fear of becoming defendants and having to spend a lot of money on legal fees, not because of any high moral character.

But to the world outside the Federation, they would say it was the noble sentiment cultivated by the sweet air over here.

A scrawny man chugged a large mouthful of alcohol. He was as thin as a bamboo pole, so emaciated that his features were distorted.

But he had a very large stomach, the skin stretched so tight over it that the blood vessels were clearly visible.

As the alcohol went down, his eyes reddened slightly. He looked at the approaching police lights and floored the gas pedal.

Just as the large truck and the police cars were about to pass each other, he jerked the steering wheel hard.

The front of the truck swerved sharply, ramming its load of heavy cargo into the first police car.

The police car’s driver had no time to react and was hit head-on.

The car’s cabin instantly compressed and crumpled. Sparks flew on the ground, and the police cars behind it all rear-ended each other.

Finally, the truck, still pushing the first police car, crashed to a stop against a telephone booth on the side of the road. Even so, its front wheels continued to spin…

Two young men on the sidewalk glanced at the scene and quietly left, leaving only a few dazed and bloodied police officers climbing out of their wrecked cars, calling for help.

An officer quickly reported the situation to the station. The police dispatcher immediately began to coordinate, sending some officers to support the crash scene and others to the casino.

It was obvious that these events were very likely related.

In the casino, several large bags of money were piled on one cart, and another cart was stacked with gold bars. Lance glanced at his watch. Time was up.

He said the word “Withdraw,” and everyone immediately stopped, threw their things onto the carts, and started heading out.

Lance was the last to leave. He stood at the entrance, picked up a Molotov cocktail that had been placed there, lit it, and threw it into the vault. Then a second, and a third…

The entire vault instantly went up in flames, the roaring fire consuming all the banknotes they hadn’t had time to take, and even some works of art.

Some gambling addicts, in a final act of desperation, would bring in family heirlooms to exchange for chips.

The casino offered an art collateral service, but the prices weren’t very high.

The roaring flames consumed everything inside. Lance took one last look, then turned and left with the others, pushing the carts.

Finally, Lance took out two grenades and threw them into the main hall, cutting off any pursuit.

The violent explosions finally made people realize that the casino was being robbed.

They rushed down the steps, threw the travel bags into the cars, and pushed the cart with the gold bars directly into a vehicle. The five cars turned around and immediately sped away.

The large iron gate had been closed by this point, but it was meaningless against these modified cars. It was rammed open, and the five vehicles burst onto the road and headed out of the city…

Hunter had just finished his evening engagements when he was alerted by a call from the station. He had an officer drive him directly to the Kodak’s casino. The scene was in complete chaos.

About ten minutes after he arrived, Bandy and Gorry also showed up, smelling of alcohol.

When Bandy got out of his car, the fire in the vault had been extinguished.

Three fire trucks were pouring water into the vault, and the fire didn’t last long before it was put out.

Bandy looked down at the water flowing down the steps, and at a thumb-sized fragment of a banknote.

Its edges were completely burnt away, leaving only a “20” still clearly visible. He bent down and picked up the “remnant” of the twenty-dollar bill from the water. “What are our losses?”

For the first time, Stone felt a sense of fear. He didn’t know how to answer the question.

Another car had also pulled up nearby. Fleming had arrived, also reeking of alcohol. He looked at the scene before him in disbelief. “What happened?”

But right now, no one could answer his question.

Stone lowered his head and said, “About five or six million, and some artwork and gold…”

Bandy swayed on his feet, and Gorry immediately supported him to keep him from falling. If he had measured his blood pressure at that moment, he would have found it was through the roof.

In fact, the money Lance and his crew had stolen wasn’t the largest part of the loss. The real loss was from the fire Lance started before he left, which had destroyed nearly all the remaining cash and artwork.

This was no longer a simple matter of losing seven or eight, or eight or nine million. They had lost that money, which meant it was gone.

At the same time, they would also need to pay out at least two or three million in “winnings” for the night. The guests who had exchanged cash for chips would soon be demanding to cash them back in.

They would have to come up with an additional sum of money to redeem these chips. Their losses were huge.

After about ten seconds, Bandy seemed to recover slightly. “Who did it?”

Hunter, who was standing nearby, refocused his attention, his ears perked to listen in.

“I don’t know. They were wearing ski masks, no one spoke, and no one saw who they were.”

“But I suspect…” Stone glanced at Bandy, “…it might have been Lance and his crew.”

Bandy frowned. After learning about the whole incident, he already had a guess. In fact, everyone had the same guess—the Lance Family.

Only they were the most likely to do something like this. The Kodak Family had been established in Golden Port for so many years. Apart from the early days when people dared to challenge them, no one had tried for many years.

If there was anyone who could break the rules of this city, there was only one possibility: Lance, and his men.

Bandy turned to look at Hunter. Hunter looked a bit awkward, as he was standing very close to the group, obviously eavesdropping.

“Did you hear that?”

“We have a suspect. The thing you should be doing right now is arresting him!”

(End of Chapter)