Chapter 124: The Novice Protection Period is So Terrible

Chapter 124 The Novice Protection Period is So Terrible

In mid-July, the Tokyo Racecourse was packed with people.

Fushiguro Shigeu held a few horse racing tickets, leaned back, and waited for the horse racing to begin.

The weather was not cool at this time, but the man in the oversized tights did not break a sweat, and even without exercising his muscles, he maintained beautiful curves. This charming body was exposed, emitting heat even hotter than summer.

Speaking of Fushiguro Shigeki's physique, his body is very tight and strong, but his muscle groups are not the huge but clumsy muscles of a bodybuilder. Even though you can see at a glance that this man is full of strength, if you resist that layer of masculine deterrence, you can easily find that Fushiguro Shigeki is not "strong". On the contrary, he exudes a lightness that is not clumsy and even full of strength. He is the most perfect human body.

Some people sat down nearby, and Fushiguro noticed a gaze. He glanced over and saw a white-haired child staring at him intently.

He raised his eyebrows and ignored it.

Although he is full of violence and his silent ferocity intimidates others, there are also many people who like this sense of crisis. From this point of view, he actually looks quite good, and even has a kind of obedience that does not quite match his body.

Unfortunately, the scar on his lip is so obvious that even his smile looks hideous.

Fushiguro was used to being watched by people, and this horse race was the biggest one of the year. He was like a cat waiting for a gift, too lazy to talk much.

The white-haired kid looked at him for a while, and when the horse race started, he held the betting slip and quietly watched the display screen in the stadium.

After looking for a while, Fushiguro Shigeki raised his eyebrows slightly and cast a glance at the young man.

Heartbeat.

The boy's heartbeat was very steady, without a single ripple. In this somewhat noisy occasion, where a group of people's hearts were beating with excitement or regret, the child's heartbeat was like the liquid dripping from stalactites over the years, or the incessant hum of a metronome in a stage performance, without the slightest fluctuation, and even gave people a slight sense of anthropomorphism.

Fushiguro Shigeu took a quick glance and saw that the number six was written on the young horse's ticket to win, with a bet of 10,000 yen.

Single win is the simplest way to play, but the odds are quite impressive. It’s only ten thousand...are you going to use your pocket money to bet on horses?

The man twitched the corner of his mouth.

Today's children have a bright future.

Soon, he looked at the result of the game and fell silent.

Number six wins, odds are 32 times. He heard the young man look down, stand up, and go buy a new horse ticket.

What are you proud of? It's just the novice protection period.

Damn the novice protection period.

He sighed, tore up the 500,000-yuan lottery ticket, and slowly filled out a new one.

It was still a single win, and he bet on number 13. He had observed and felt that this horse had a high probability of winning, so he invested 500,000 yuan and returned to his seat with the horse roll.

The boy sitting next to him was still the same young man. He didn't look at him again. He just stared at the big screen and yawned lazily.

He bet on number three, and spent 300,000, but still won alone.

Not long after, number three was upset with odds of 68.

Fushiguro Shige's face darkened slightly. He noticed that the boy's heartbeat remained unchanged, and was even a little slower due to sleepiness.

Novice protection period, novice protection period.

He tore up the lottery ticket and went to buy the next one.

This time he waited for a while. After the boy sat down, he walked to his side and took a look at his horse scroll.

Double lottery, number 11 and number 1, bet 1 million.

This is the highest bet that the machines in this venue can currently accept. The boy won more than 20 million in the last game alone, which is reasonable.

The gun went off, the race started, the lecture was passionate and rhythmic, the horses galloped all the way, and then to the finish line, the end.

Number 11 is first and number 1 is second.

Fushiguro Shige listened to the boy next door's still calm heartbeat, looked at his 1 million yen worth of waste paper, and gritted his teeth.

Hey! He just didn't believe it.

This time he spent five million and returned to the scene with a thick stack of lottery tickets in his hand. He sat down next to the young man. The young man looked at him. This time he changed to a single win in his hand, still one million. He was not afraid of him seeing it and showed it to him clearly.

The two sat side by side for a long time, and the boy won again.

Now his accumulated funds have probably reached 130 million, and Fushiguro Shigeki has never seen such an outrageous winning rate.

Ten thousand yen turns into one hundred million yen in an instant? He doesn't even dare to dream about this?

How did he choose?

Fushiguro Shiori followed the boy stealthily, but the boy was not afraid of him. He first looked at the list of the next horse race, and a few minutes later he drew out a horse ticket. This time he ticked a triple color (first, second, and third, the order cannot be changed).

He hesitated for a moment, did not dare to follow, and did not buy another ticket. He followed the boy back to the venue. The boy took out a bottle of water from his backpack and handed it to him.

"Thank you."

The young man nodded. They were sitting very close to each other. Suddenly, he heard the young man say.

"How did you get your scar?"

Fushiguro Shige'er's eyes paused, and he flattened the empty bottle, his tone revealing a bit of nonchalance:

"none of your business."

"Heaven and Curse will not easily leave scars." The boy didn't look at him: "What happened?"

"..." Fushiguro Shigeki said nothing, pretending not to hear anything.

The boy didn't care. He shook the mineral water in his hand and stared at the water surface in the bottle.

"Your son misses you."

This time, Fushiguro turned around and said calmly:

"My son, what's his name?"

The gun went off and the horse race started.

"benefit."

"Oh, him." Fuguro Shier turned his head and stared at the screen intently: "Then let him think about it."

“Tsk.”

The two didn't say anything else. This was the last race of the morning. The horses galloped past and reached the finish line.

Number three, number seven, number one.

I won the triple lottery with the lowest probability and the highest odds.

That horse racing ticket alone could be exchanged for tens of millions of funds. Fushiguro was very impressed. He looked at the Thousand Rooms for a while.

"Your technique?"

"I don't have a spell."

The boy's heartbeat never changed, as if he was sure he would win, but also as if he didn't care at all.

But this time the boy did not turn around and leave, but handed the scroll to him.

"Hmm?" Fushiguro Shige raised his eyebrows: "Aren't you afraid that I will snatch it away?"

“Is it difficult to win?”

The young man asked back. Under his smooth white hair were incredibly beautiful golden eyes, which even reminded Fushiguro Shigeki of the six-eyed God Child he had seen before.

The boy said, "This will cover your entire afternoon."

Tsk, the Six-eyed Son of God.

He gave a malicious smile.

"Why, you're attracted to me? Your body can't handle it."

Although he said so, he honestly took the lottery ticket and flipped the small card in his hand. When he saw the young man smiling at him in the sunshine, he felt a kind of inexplicable confidence.

"I don't like your taste." The boy said, "But I can help you win the horse race this afternoon."

Fushiguro Shigeu paused.

"Do you want to try it? The feeling of winning?" the young man whispered.

"See you this afternoon if you want to win."

**

Fushiguro Shigeu originally planned to take the money and run away.

He is not a gentleman. If people give him money, he will take it. He has the final say on whether to do something or not. If you are not satisfied, he will fight you. Whether he can win or not is another matter.

However, this is the only major horse race in Tokyo this month, so if you leave now, you might really miss it.

Since he had nothing to do anyway, with some inexplicable emotion, Fushiguro Shige waited for Senmaku at the racecourse on time in the afternoon.

The boy was carrying a black backpack and was yawning. He used his fingers to push a piece of chocolate into his mouth. When he saw him coming, his heartbeat remained unchanged and he threw two pieces to him.

Fushiguro Shige took it, without opening it, put it in his mouth and bit it off, then pulled out the plastic bag with teeth marks and put it in his pocket.

He chewed and twitched the corners of his mouth.

"What a terrible smell."

100% pure bitter chocolate, imported style, nutty flavor with a hint of floral scent, but even the most subtle taste is like a cow chewing a peony for Fushiguro, leaving only the unpalatable bitter taste.

The boy opened another piece and glanced at him.

"Tasteless stuff."

Both of them know that the other's identity is not simple, but they get along very harmoniously at the moment. Since Chigenmaku could directly reveal Tian Yujutsu's identity, he must also be from the world of sorcery. Just by looking at the boy's drowsy appearance, Fushiguro Shier dared to infer that he had no interest in horse racing. It must be him who asked Kong Shiyu to find out his location. He just didn't know what the boy wanted from him.

It doesn't matter, he thought.

For such a short guy, he could kill ten times with just one hand.

Two men, one tall and one short, walked arm in arm towards the counter to fill out the horse racing tickets. The young man repeated the previous operation, looking at the information, looking at the horse racing track, looking at the exhibition, then walked back, took out two horse racing tickets and handed one to him.

"Which one do you want to buy?" he asked.

"You're the one who led me to victory?" Fushiguro Shier took it and casually hooked it: "I want to see how you win."

The boy glanced at his paper and spoke in a very professional manner.

"No. 8, last year's runner-up and the year before last, had a good sprint, but the rider had an accident last year and his condition is unstable. The temperature is 32° now, the weather is hot, and the humidity is moderate. It is possible to win, but it is just a possibility."

"oh?"

"The one most likely to win is number three. He's a rookie rider who has only participated in one race in the winter and doesn't have a lot of experience. But his horse is a veteran. Although his performance was not good last year, he was a regular champion before that. A new rider and an old horse, this pair has a higher chance of winning than yours."

“…”

Fushiguro Shiro knew the reason well. He was an old gambler and had been gambling since he left the Zenin family. He was an expert in analyzing horse racing, but after listening to the boy's words, he began to feel a little uncertain.

But the boy filled in the number eight on his own, exactly the same as his.

"Lead me to victory?" Fushiguro Jiner raised his eyebrows and hugged his shoulders.

"Well, I'll make you win today." The young man waved his horse roll, his toes already pointed toward the spectator field. His tone was light and nasal, and one could tell that he was indeed very sleepy: "I guarantee you'll win."

After losing the first game, the two of them filled out the lottery tickets again. Because Fushiguro Shigeu was present, Sengenmaku was finally able to use him to gamble in large amounts that were only available to adults. The second time, both of them bet two million, but still lost.

Fushiguro Shige'er's patience was running out. He pulled out the third card, ticked it casually, turned around and looked at the boy strangely for a while, then smiled.

"You're pretty lucky."

"Scold me?" the man snorted coldly.

"No, I'm praising you." Qian Jianmu bet 50 million, which was half of his profit today: "There are still two games."

Fushiguro Shinobu always chooses the single win option. Although he said that Senmamu's heartbeat did not change, in fact his heartbeat did not change either.

He does not feel ecstasy or intense loss. To him, horse racing is like watching a movie, a persistent pursuit to prove something.

His wins and losses in his life were never equal. He won his physique but lost his skills, he won the Zen temple but lost his past, he won Hui but lost his wife.

Gambling was his way of trying to get a glimpse of the light, he wanted to win once, at least, at least once.

It has nothing to do with money. The remuneration for his mission is very high. He does not love money, but he invests all his belongings time and time again, just to gamble and win.

It seemed that as long as he won that time, his ugly and despicable life would not be in vain, as if he had finally stood up from the mud and could take a breath.

——Although he also knew that his life would be like this.

There were also four matches in the afternoon. Fushiguro Shige had given up hope. He knew his luck in gambling very well. He did know a lot about horse racing, but if the boy always chose the same horse as him, there was no way he would win.

He even had some evil thoughts, that this young man, who had just entered society, thought he could do anything, and that this time he would suffer a big setback.

Sengenmaku was really sleepy. He hardly slept last night. He ran out early in the morning before dawn while the Fushiguro family was still asleep. He hasn't had any rest until now. If combined with the time before the retrospection, he has not slept for two days.

He could indeed endure it, but this was not something worth enduring.

He was staggering and about to fall asleep just after sitting down and before the show even started. It seemed that something happened in Marseille and they would be late for a while. Chigenmaku really couldn't bear it anymore. He turned his head to look at Fushiguro Shinobu and patted Fushiguro Shinobu's strong biceps.

Fushiguro Shiji just let him take pictures and glanced at him.

The next moment, the young man seemed to have figured it out. He leaned on his arm, sighed comfortably, and yawned.

"I'll take a nap. Call me when you get the results."

Fushiguro was so angry that he laughed, thinking that he had never seen anyone with such a low guard that he could even fall asleep in front of him. He still remembered that his client in the previous mission had told Kong Shiyu that even though he was protecting someone, that person hadn't slept for three days, so how come this kid just pounced on him and started sleeping with his head resting on him.

What about the sense of distance?

But Fushiguro Shigeki is also used to the flesh-and-blood trade, and basic consideration is a must in this line of work. Qian Jianmu gave him tens of millions. Not to mention using him as a pillow to sleep for a while, he could even sleep with him, and the time could be calculated by days.

The whistle sounded, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the young man Ma Juan about to fall. Fushiguro Shige raised his leg and kicked it, and with his clever strength the thin piece of paper was really kicked up. He reached out and held it in his hand, and the two pieces of paper came together to become a slightly thicker piece of paper.

He looked at the screen, which showed that number six was the third from the last. He pursed his thin lips and thought sarcastically, as expected.

He knew number six. This horse had never won. He did it on purpose. He knew it.

A bit like a rebel, he was also somewhat desperate about his luck, often buying horses that had no chance of winning and then watching them lose.

They are all guys who have no hope from the beginning. Even if they raise the bet, they will only lose more miserably.

The boy, who had already slept for nearly half an hour, moved his head. The size difference was too big. The child was like a pendant on his shoulder. His arms were thicker than the child's head. He estimated that he could lift the child up without any effort, just like lifting an empty thermos.

When he looked up again, Fushiguro was stunned.

Number 6 is overtaking.

This race was attended by many talented horses, with at least six horses having won first or second place in the past two years. Number six was the weakest among them, yet he rushed forward little by little from the back.

Fifth from last, seventh from last.

Still moving forward, even running in big circles.

Tenth, Sixth.

The sprint speed does not slow down, it is still rushing.

Fourth, second.

As he was about to reach the finish line, Fushiguro Shige held his breath. The next moment, a silent iron curtain fell and hit his head, making him feel dazed.

First.

At the last second, the original No. 1 was exhausted and No. 6 crossed the finish line directly.

It was a big upset, with odds exceeding 100. Fushiguro Shigeo lowered his head and looked at the ticket in his hand.

He didn't hold out much hope, but he did take most of the commission that Qian Jianmu gave him.

Twenty million, a little less than fifty million.

A hundred times.

2 billion.

Even after deducting taxes, it’s still 10 billion.

It was early summer, and for some reason, Fushiguro Shigeki suddenly felt cold all over, as if a dark cloud had fallen on his head. But when he looked up, the sun was shining brightly and it was a sunny day.

After suddenly winning the grand prize, he did not feel happy at all, but instead felt a strong sense of uneasiness.

The gifts that life gives him are often taken back mercilessly. He can easily decide the life and death of his enemies, but when faced with such wealth that comes from heaven, he will only be more vigilant.

"It's okay, this is normal."

The young man leaning on his arm patted his arm, raised his head, his hair stuck to his eyebrows, his sleepy face squinted lazily, and said in a light tone:

"Your luck is terrible, but my luck is many times greater than yours."

He yawned, glanced at the scroll, but did not take it. He stretched out a hand to push aside his hair. His half-closed golden eyes were shaking with golden light, and he looked into his eyes.

He was still very young, looking only about thirteen or fourteen years old, with a slightly rounded cheek, but a soft and non-effeminate beauty in his bone structure, and very white skin, without any flaws when viewed up close. The eye shape does not seem to be round, because it will gradually lengthen with age. But even though there is still a hint of childishness at this moment, when she raises her eyes, a subtle aggressiveness comes to her face.

Looks good.

Fushiguro was distracted by his thoughts.

"For this round of gambling, I want to hire you for two months. Do you want to do it?"

Fifty million, odds of one hundred, five billion before tax, the boy didn't care at all, to him this money was like waste paper.

If he is lucky enough to win with Fushiguro Shigeu, then to him, money is really no different from waste paper.

The 5 billion was given away by him, and the two scrolls were stacked together. Fushiguro Shige saw the young man yawning again, feeling so sleepy that he was about to cry, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Billions of yen, what do you want me to do?"

"I won't let you die."

"I don't have children." Fushiguro Shigeki raised the corner of his lips.

"I don't like your style... Hui will be scared..." The boy opened his arms and lowered his eyelashes: "Carry me out and sleep at your house tonight."

“…Tsk?”

"My legs are numb. I don't want to walk. I'm sleepy." The young man whispered, and his eyes were about to close again: "I won too much. It will be troublesome if I don't walk now..."

Fushiguro Shigeji looked the white-haired boy up and down, clapped his hands with the scroll in his hand, took out the one worth 20 million, stuffed it back into Sengenmaku's hand, stood up and carried the man on his back.

"One month."

"You still have a conscience?"

"What is that?" Fushiguro Shige sneered.

With the man's physical fitness, lying on it was just like lying on a bed, without any bumps at all. Qian Jianmu narrowed his eyes, stretched out his palm and slowly covered the man's back. The man felt it, but didn't think there was anything wrong with it and didn't do anything about it.

There are many people who come to watch the horse racing, which is considered a parent-child activity. Although horse racing is also gambling, the censorship is not strict in that era. Fushiguro Shigeki carries people on his back as if he is carrying his child, which is not eye-catching. Moreover, with his thick skin, he would not react even if he carried a naked woman on his back. He is shameless and has thrown away all shame and dignity. Pure calmness.

He cashed the prize, collected the check, and walked around the crowded crowd with light steps. Wu's physical fitness made him walk quietly and steadily. Qian Jianmu even fell asleep, and when he woke up, the man was opening the door.

It was already very late. Qian Jianmu looked at the sky blankly, then looked at the man's trouser legs. There were a few spots of blood on the soles of his feet, which looked very fresh.

"...You carried me on your back and killed someone along the way?" It was so smooth that he didn't even feel it?

No, is this scientific?

He couldn't believe it.

"It's just a handy thing." Fushiguro Shige sneered and handed over a cell phone: "Gojo Satoru's phone is for you."

"……knew?"

Chijianmu took it and transferred his morning gambling money into the card, which he then transferred to Gojo Satoru. After all, the money used to buy the intelligence from Kong Shiyu yesterday was used with Gojo Satoru's account and password.

Neither of them is short of this money, but they still have to pay it back.

However, looking at the text message, it was estimated that Gojo Satoru didn't care that one million was missing from the card. It was only when he transferred ten million into the card that he felt strange and called to ask.

"Chiganmaku, the high school student who disappeared last year, you really don't look 16 years old. By the way, Kong Shiyu is doing a double-sided business, so be careful."

The man stretched out his hand, lifted him up with one hand and put him on the bed. Qian Jianmu glanced at his arm subtly, confirmed again and again that he was not exerting any strength, and cursed him inwardly as a gorilla.

"Now that you're awake, don't beat around the bush."

Fushiguro Shige brought over two cans of beer, handed one to Senjianmaku, then he opened the pull ring, half-knelt down and looked directly at Senjianmaku.

There was a faint mocking expression on his face, with the corners of his lips curled up, and the scar moved slightly with the opening and closing of his lips, looking indescribably playful.

"What do you want to talk to me about? Do you have to come to my house to talk?"

He paused and laughed viciously:

"Do you know that the money you paid is enough for me to kill three Gojo Satoru?"

The bounty on Gojo Satoru is only 1 billion yen.

"That's up to you."

The young man, on the other hand, had a calm expression. He turned his head to look around the room, then finally looked back at Fushiguro Shigeru's abdomen.

"Got a knife?" he asked.

Fushiguro Shiori raised his eyebrows, pulled out a folding knife from his waist, played a few tricks with it in his hand, and wanted to hand it to Sengenmaku, but the boy had no intention of taking it.

"What do you want a knife for?" He was a little confused.

"So……"

Sengenmaku asked him to stand up, and he leaned forward and stroked Fushiguro Shigeru's abdomen with his fingers.

"Give yourself a knife, stab here. With your recovery ability, it won't be delayed, right?"

The folding knife paused, and Fushiguro Shigeo lowered his eyes to look at the boy. The boy looked at him frankly, with a thin and indifferent gaze, which was what he was most accustomed to. They used to be together day and night, but it was definitely a calmness and indifference that could not be said to be annoying.

It seemed that in his eyes, Fushiguro Shiori was just a toy, and a toy that needed to be dealt with seriously.

"By the way, let me tell you what I'm going to do next." The boy turned his eyes sideways, took out a pack of alcohol wipes from his backpack, wiped his right hand, and then showed it to him:

"I'm going to put my hands in all your wounds. All of them."

He blinked and raised the corners of his mouth slightly, but there was no smile in his expression, as if he was certain that he would agree even if they were sitting at the negotiation table.

"It will be very painful, can you bear it?"

"Or? You want me to stick my hands in your mouth or your eyes?"

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