h4Chapter 312: Chapter 312: No One Knows Who Will Win Until the Last Moment/h4

    Nami was dressed in a gray-ck hotel uniform, her skirt was very short, revealing a pair of tender, fair legs wrapped tightly in flesh-colored stockings. A friendly smile graced her face, her eyes as clear as if holding sunshine within. What stood out most was the youthful energy exuding from her—a quality unique to young girls—which made the man’s gaze darken, his Adam’s apple tighten.

    This woman was a stunner, far more pure and beautiful than those two nightclub girls inside.

    A little prey delivered right to his door—how could he possibly refuse?

    Nami noticed the darkness flicker in his eyes and froze in her tracks, an instinctive chill surging within her. She turned and tried to run, but the man suddenly grabbed her wrist and effortlessly dragged her into the room, mming the door shut with a loud bang.

    In that brief moment of struggle, the lunchbox in Nami’s hand fell to the floor, scattering assorted sushi rolls across the ground...

    ...

    In Tokyo, behind its morous urban fa?ade lies an endless abyss of shadows. Gambling dens and underground boxing arenas are scattered across the city’s unlit foundations.

    In one of these vast underground spaces, a crowd packed tightly, their attention riveted to the boxing ring in the center. Right now, an intense boxing match was unfolding.

    The two men in the ring hailed from the West—muscle-bound and draped in thick boxing gloves. Each move was brutal, every strike calcted to knock the opponent down and im the massive prize money.

    Meanwhile, the surrounding stands were filled with spectators—who were also gamblers. They were betting on which of the two Western boxers would ultimately win. Here, fortunes are made overnight, and some leave with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

    At the very top of the stands, a row of VIP suites offered an unobstructed view of the matches below. Only people of status and influence had the privilege to upy these suites.

    Gu Moqian stood at the window of the suite, d in a pristine white shirt, his presence immacte. Even though he hadn’t rested much in the past day, his face betrayed no signs of weariness. His every movement retained an aura of refined elegance and quiet grandeur.

    Beside him sat Yamamoto Yu, the Tokyo Mafia boss, nearing sixty years of age. Dressed in a ck suit, his silver-streaked hair slicked back meticulously, his eyes sharp as a hawk’s and capable of exerting an invisible yet undeniable pressure when fixed on someone.

    However, such pressure had no effect on Gu Moqian.

    "Mr. Gu, the man you bet on has been knocked down three times already—it doesn’t look good for him." Yamamoto Yu gestured toward the boxer in red gloves in the ring. "If you lose, the Gu Family will be part of my Yamamoto Yus’ empire."

    "No one knows the oue until the veryst moment. Isn’t the unpredictability what makes gambling so thrilling?" Gu Moqian replied withposed confidence, his gaze shifting faintly toward Yamamoto Yu.

    "But the odds of victory for a man who’s been knocked down three times are slim to none," Yamamoto Yu countered.

    "Let’s wait and see." Gu Moqian responded lightly.

    Yamamoto Yu turned his eyes to the man standing beside him, sensing the imperious aura around him—intimidating without the need to raise his voice or disy aggression. From the moment he first encountered Gu Moqian, Yamamoto Yu knew this was not someone who could be easily dealt with.

    If not for Old Master Ji staking his life as a guarantee—and furtherplicating matters by saving Yamamoto Yu’s daughter—the Tokyo Mafia boss would have outright ignored Mr. Ji’s requests and handed over Ji Chuyang, that useless imbecile.

    Whenever Yamamoto Yu thought about how Ji Chuyang, after arriving in Japan, had been freeloading in his vi while shamelessly bringing home shady nightclub girls to party, he couldn’t help but feel thoroughly exasperated.