Step aside, it's time for me to show off!

Hearing the discordant voice, clearly hinting at something, Jos's lips curled into an imperceptible smile. The real big fish had bitten the hook!

After all, this was a casino. Never mind Jos’s blatant cheating—here, even if someone at any table wins a little too much, they draw the casino’s attention. The balance between winning and losing is supposed to stay within a fixed ratio; once that ratio is exceeded, the house grows wary.

The person who had spoken up to warn Jos was, without doubt, sent by the casino to stop him. Yet, for the sake of appearances—and because they couldn’t find any evidence of Jos's trickery—they chose a low-voiced warning instead of resorting to force.

Normally, if the target is sensible, he’ll stop there. If not, and he insists on pressing forward, they have other methods.

With a smile, Jos turned and glanced at the source of the voice, spotting a man wearing a black hat and sporting a small mustache. There were no markings on him; he didn’t look like casino staff, but rather an ordinary tourist. Yet Jos paid no mind to that, for he knew the man before him was named Remy Etienne LeBeau—better known by another, much more famous name.

The King of Cards.

As a popular figure in the world of comics, the King of Cards only appeared in a fleeting moment in the X-Men series. Jos had sought him out not only because, according to the system’s locator, he was the nearest superhero, but most importantly because—

Using playing cards as weapons was just incredibly cool!

Jos wanted to learn, coach! Teach me!

As one of the renowned anti-heroes, he was unbound by rules, possessed a less-than-pristine past, yet never truly fell into darkness. Jos had no worry about recruiting him into the Avengers. In the Marvel universe, it wasn’t rare for villains with dark histories to turn good—even lunatics like Carnage had their chance to be redeemed and save the world. So, even if the King of Cards wasn’t exactly righteous in his ways, Jos wasn’t concerned about anyone making trouble over it.

Although his target had already appeared, Jos didn’t approach him for conversation. Instead, he grinned, then slammed another portion of chips down, betting it all on “Small,” his challenge clear as day.

“Hmph. You ignore the road to heaven and walk straight into hell. Since that’s your choice, don’t blame me for being ruthless!” The King of Cards saw Jos’s reaction, snorted coldly, and pressed his palm down on the table.

Suddenly, he slapped the table, startling those around them. The dealer almost pressed the alarm, but upon seeing the King of Cards, he wisely lowered his head, his eyes discreetly sizing up Jos.

Most hadn’t noticed anything amiss, but the dealer, closest to the action, realized that the dice cup had been shaken slightly by that slap. Ordinary people might think that couldn’t possibly matter—such a massive table, with its internal mechanisms, weighed hundreds of pounds; surely a single slap couldn’t affect the dice inside. Even if it did, it would only jostle them a little.

But if that person was the man whose gambling skills reigned supreme in the Marvel universe, then all impossibilities became possible!

After the slap, the King of Cards didn’t look at anyone else. He turned to leave, letting out a cold laugh that drifted into Jos’s ears: “What a pity. Now you’re going to lose everything.”

Though the dealer hadn’t revealed the dice yet, the confidence on the King of Cards' face convinced everyone nearby to believe his words. And for Jos, the feeling was even stronger.

Among those present, in terms of sheer skill, only the King of Cards could match Jos without him using any powers. His exceptional hearing had already caught the faint sound from within the dice cup.

Though Jos didn’t know exactly how the man had done it, he knew from Marvel lore that the King of Cards could infuse objects with explosive energy. A bit of deduction told Jos that he must have used that ability, manipulating the numbers on the dice.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you a dealer? Open it!” The King of Cards was dissatisfied that the dealer hadn’t revealed the dice yet, so he barked an order, shocking the dealer into action, who hurried to press the button and lift the cover.

Whether it was illusion or reality, the crowd felt that this time the lid opened incredibly slowly. A routine dice reveal had become a moment of suspense, thanks to the King of Cards’ earlier words. The onlookers couldn’t help holding their breath.

“Six! It’s six!” someone suddenly shouted, making everyone tense.

Jos had initially bet over four thousand dollars on “Small,” and then added another stack, bringing his wager to at least five thousand. If the first die showed a six, and the other two added up to more than four, Jos’s nearly ten thousand dollars would vanish.

“Remember, the casino isn’t a place for people like you to make quick money. Even if no one notices, your little tricks are just that—little tricks.” The King of Cards had no interest in the remaining dice, casually pressing his hat and turning away from the table.

A true man doesn’t look back at explosions; a true gambling god doesn’t look back at the table.

He simply wanted to give Jos a small lesson.

He wasn’t a hero—more often, he was a thief, a burglar. But as someone who spent years in casinos, who had made playing cards an extension of himself, he couldn’t tolerate people like Jos.

Sleight of hand was an art, not merely a means of making money!

In his mind, the King of Cards could already see Jos’s anguished expression. He smiled softly, murmuring to himself, “Well, it’s just a few thousand dollars lost. For him, that’s lesson enough…”

“Six, one, one. Small.”

The dealer’s voice suddenly reached the King of Cards. His figure, so suave as he walked away, seemed frozen in place.

“This can’t be,” he thought, then shouted, “This can’t be!”