In the noisy casino, people gathered around the gaming table and shouted something.
They consciously avoided the fresh pool of blood extending outward in front of the door. But after a casino thug came over with a bucket and mop to wipe away the blood, people started passing there again.
A strange face walked into the casino. There were many new faces recently. The thug at the door only paused briefly on his face to confirm that it was not one of those guys from the patrol team and then ignored him.
Like other gamblers, this gloomy figure exchanged his chips, but he only had a few shillings. He turned around and walked to a gambling table, threw the 1 shilling chip onto the table and bet big.
Neither his figure nor his chips can attract anyone's attention, just like most people around the gambling table.
Soon, the dice box was opened, and the values of the three dice were small.
The figure lost 1 shilling.
At this moment, in the shadows in the corner of the casino, the voice of a bald man sounded beside the flickering pipe, and was dispersed by the surrounding noise.
"There have been more and more stupid young people like this recently...it will make residents in the area doubt the credibility of the casino..."
The bald man was talking to the owner of the pipe, but the owner's voice was not strong enough to break through the noisy cage.
But at a certain moment, there was a brief moment of silence in the casino, and the pipe owner's words became clear.
"The poor people still come back. What they fear is not death, but poverty."
As the words fell, a familiar exclamation erupted from the gambling table in the distance.
"Go and see how-"
The hustle and bustle returned, and the sound of conversation was once again drowned out.
The bald burly man stepped out of the shadows, and without getting closer, his subordinates already told him what happened.
Another outsider guessed the kill.
The man said, looking at the thug squatting next to the door with gloating - he was about to mop the floor again.
But maybe this unlucky lucky guy is not as stupid as before...probably.
At the center of the hustle and bustle - the guy who made thousands of shillings from the gambling table was surprisingly calm. If he hadn't been wearing ordinary linen clothes and his skin wasn't sickly pale, people would have thought he was some nobleman.
Or a rich man comes to play.
After the exclamation, people voluntarily moved out of the way, staring blankly at the man as he went to redeem his chips.
Everyone present knew what was about to happen.
But most people won't say anything.
Because what he took was the district’s money, everyone’s money.
As agreed, when the man walked towards the door, he was blocked by a bald man and his men.
"A customer said they saw you stealing chips. We need to confirm." The bald man replied lazily.
Everything is like a replica of ten minutes ago.
"Which guest?" the man asked puzzledly.
The bald man looked playful: "I don't think we will give you a chance to remember that person. Anyway, let us search your clothes and everything will be clear."
"Of course." The man nodded.
"Uncle Klein, your lunch!"
At this time, in the crowd in the back row near the door, a middle-aged man with a stubble and a sigh was startled by the sudden cry of a child, and he took the lunch box wrapped in cloth angrily.
The little boy shyly raised his head and stared at the middle-aged man until he had to wave away: "There is no tip for you today. Two damn foreigners almost stole all our money!"
"Okay, I wish you a lucky day." The little boy pursed his lips and suddenly heard a fierce voice coming from the wall of people: "Maybe he swallowed it."
what happened?
The little boy subconsciously stood on tiptoe to look around, but he was too short and could only see rows of pants with a big hole in them!
The little boy finally thought of a way: he squatted down and through his legs, he could vaguely see what was happening inside.
"You want to go to the latrine with me to check?"
He saw a man and said, for some reason, that man made him feel very uncomfortable.
And he seemed to have seen himself, but how could this be possible? He didn't look, he was crouching behind the crowd again.
"I have a better idea." The fierce bald guy on the other side said, "Rip your belly open."
The little boy blinked, and suddenly, his ear was lifted up by a rough hand: "You don't go to school and come here!"
The little boy who was trying to struggle with bared teeth heard a familiar voice and quickly begged for mercy: "Aunt Susan! I'm just here to deliver food to Uncle Claire!"
"Hmph... I don't care what your reason is, leave with me quickly." The little boy was carried by the ears by the strong and fierce Aunt Susan and walked down the steps of the casino. The man inside was saying: "I also have a better idea.
…”
What happened next, the little boy could neither see nor hear.
After being dragged by his ears for several dozen meters in a very embarrassing manner, the little boy suddenly broke away while Aunt Susan was not prepared, and ran towards the school not far from here with his backpack in his arms.
Approaching the school, the little boy slowed down, lowered his head to straighten his wrinkled clothes, and smoothed his hair that was messed up by the wind. He tried his best to look clean and tidy, and then walked into this room that had no signs and was no different from the surrounding houses.
Log cabin of no difference.
The little boy came a little late, and his classmates were already sitting behind the tattered desks, sitting upright with respect for the class.
Returning to his seat, he noticed a line of writing on the blackboard.
【Last Lesson】
"What does this mean?" the little boy asked little John next to him in a low voice.
"Mr. Fadwin said that today is the last class of the school... and it will not be held again in the future."
"Why!"
The little boy shouted subconsciously, breaking the silence in the classroom.
Before Little John could say anything, the teacher of this school, Mr. Fadwin, walked in. He was still wearing the stained white shirt and linen pants.
"Then everyone already knows."
Mr. Fadwin looked at the students who were much quieter than usual and sighed.
"All facilities not related to production and operations will be closed tomorrow, and today is our last class."
Whispers and small sobs sounded among the dozen or so students.
Mr. Fadwin wanted to say something, but several figures suddenly appeared outside the door and called him over.
Faintly, Mr. Fadwin's voice came into the classroom.
"You can't let me go first...is the situation that bad? No, I can't go, there are still my students here...but I haven't had time to say goodbye...Okay, thank you."
A few minutes later, Mr. Fadwin came back, his face looking much older.
"Teacher, will you stay?" the little boy couldn't help but stand up and asked.
Those somewhat cloudy dark blue eyes did not dare to look at the little boy. Mr. Fadwin said: "I'm sorry, this class is over, the school will be closed soon, go back and tell your parents."
Suddenly, the distant ringing of church bells was heard outside the window. Mr. Fadwin's face suddenly turned pale. He turned around to face the blackboard and waved to the children without looking back.