I am in Mihua, and the ladies all like me

Ignoring Conan's continued surprised look, Serabelle turned to the others and shrugged.

"Okay, time waits for no one, let's go."

"Oh!"

At times like this, one has to sigh again how convenient it is to have a local leading the way. Soon, under Serabelle's precise navigation, the group of six arrived at the center of London a hundred years ago in no time.

Compared with Whitechapel and Baker Street, the city center is much more popular at night. Gentlemen dressed like Serabelle and walking with canes can be seen everywhere on the street. Some of them are accompanied by young girls in gorgeous dresses. Carriages come and go on the cobblestone road.

Under the dim street lights on both sides of the street, a two-story building with lights on in the windows stands at the intersection. There is a hanging billboard in front of the door, with the words "TRUMP CLUB" written in capital English on it, which means playing card club.

"It looks like this is it."

Serabelle glanced at the others behind her.

"Then I, Hattori, and Conan will go in together. Be quiet when you go in and be careful not to make any noise."

"What about us?"

Hideki Moroboshi was obviously a little dissatisfied and felt that the three of them were being excluded.

"You guys are responsible for keeping watch outside," Serabelle said. "Come in and tell us if there's any disturbance. Or if you hear us making a big noise inside, come in and support us immediately."

Of course, the mention of support in the second half of the sentence is just to make the words sound better.

But it is enough to deceive three stupid sons of rich families.

"Oh, it's settled then!"

"Very well, let's go."

With a slight nod, Serabelle decisively pushed the door open with Conan and Hattori Heiji.

……

The perspective switches to the lobby on the first floor of the club, where the air is filled with the smell of red wine and cigarettes.

Although this is a poker club, it also provides all the services that a pub should have, including gambling equipment.

So although this is a chess and card entertainment center on the surface, it is actually a gathering place for London gangs to hang out.

"Draw a card."

A man with a cunning face and a mustache threw a gold coin on the table.

Upon hearing this, the dealer next to him immediately took out the top card in his hand and threw it to him against the table.

The cunning man took the new cards into his hand, put them together with the other cards in his hand, glanced at them and smiled with satisfaction as if he had won.

The monkey who had been squatting on the railing behind him and eating an unknown small fruit seemed to have seen the cards in the man's hand, and grabbed a few fruits from the plate in front of him and stuffed them into his mouth.

"and."

The next person to speak was a silver-haired middle-aged man sitting opposite the cunning man. He looked to be in his forties or fifties, with a strong and straight build. Although there were some wrinkles at the corners of his eyes due to age, it did not affect the fierce light that sometimes flashed in his eyes.

Colonel Shebas Chamonlang.

He glanced obliquely at the monkey eating fruit behind the cunning man, and threw a gold coin into the bet.

"That guy Meng Lang is cheating."

In the shadow near the back door of the hall, Conan stood on tiptoe and looked over the fence on the low wall towards the gambling table and said.

"How did you get it?"

Serabelle squatted beside him and lowered her voice. Together with Hattori Heiji, the three of them hid under the low wall leading to the back door in the hall.

"It's the monkey," Conan said. "Whatever card the man gets, the monkey will eat a few fruits, and Colonel Monlang will decide whether to follow based on the information given by the monkey."

"Oh?"

Sure enough, the next second the cunning man opened the cards, and a row of 23456 was arranged on the table, among which 2 and 5 were hearts, 3 and 6 were spades, and 4 was black grass.

"Shunzi!"

As if he thought he had already won this round, a hint of mockery appeared on the cunning man's face.

But the next second his smile froze on his face.

"Sorry, Flush."

Colonel Meng Lang sneered, raised his face arrogantly and threw the cards in his hand on the table. They were all red diamonds A578J.

"Nani!?"

The cunning man was simply stunned. He clenched his fists on the table and leaned forward slightly, as if he was trying hard to find some trick in the cards.

However, Colonel Montran just laughed and gathered all the gold coins on the table in front of him.

"Hahaha, it seems that my luck is pretty good tonight..."

boom!

Before he could finish his words, a revolver shot like a cannonball exploded in the hall.

All the laughter and conversations at the table were completely silent at this moment. Only the phonograph in the bar was still working diligently, playing the melodious saxophone music, telling everyone that the world was still running normally without pausing.

Colonel Menglang's smile froze on his face before it could fully bloom, and his blue-gray eyes reflected the slightly trembling tongue of the cunning man opposite him.

As for why it is the root of the tongue instead of the face, it is because he no longer has a face.

The part from the lower jaw upwards was completely shattered by the power of the bullet, leaving only half of the mouth still fixed on the neck, and bursts of hot mist were clearly visible rising from the throat.

The boy holding the revolver walked down the steps of the back door gracefully with a cane, and came in front of everyone, his voice calm and understated.

"Sorry, I'm a little rushed, so please come along."

Chapter 339 You Are the Villain

“…So boring~”

Outside the poker club, Jiang Shouhuang, a chubby boy who was assigned a lookout mission and could not go in to join the adventure, could only squat outside on the side of the road. He held up his chubby cheeks and stared at the street lights across the street and sighed helplessly.

All I can say is that it is inevitable to feel bored.

Obviously, everyone chose the London dungeon together, but from the beginning of the game until now, almost all the things were done by Serabelle and Conan, and even Hattori Heiji didn't contribute much.

As for the three of them, they were even more of a burden. It could be said that they did nothing but simply watched and saw.

To put it bluntly, they are just like the NPCs that come and go on the street without any lines.

Anyone who likes to play games knows that, except for those extremely utilitarian score slaves, for normal players, there is nothing more boring than being carried by others the entire time.

To put it bluntly, there is no sense of participation.

"They've been in there for so long, why don't we go in and take a look too?" Creamy Little Fatty started to become interested.

"Um--"

Hideki Moroboshi touched his chin, pondered and did not speak immediately.

He was actually somewhat tempted. After all, who wouldn't want to immerse themselves in a game instead of being assigned to do menial work like this?

Kikukawa Seiichiro, who was playing the gentleman version of Mitsuhiko, was a little hesitant.

"Isn't this a bad idea? The London guy just asked us to keep watch outside. If we go in, we won't know what's going on outside. If we lose the game because of this, then we'll all be..."

"Um--"

Hideki Moroboshi continued to ponder, but his brows were slightly furrowed.

Of course he wanted to join in the adventure, but he didn't want to be the cause of the game's loss because of himself. He had to know that this was a matter of fifty lives.

Damn, so confusing...

boom!

Just as the three people on the side of the road were hesitating, a deafening gunshot was heard from inside the poker club. The huge noise made all the pedestrians on the streets in the city center pause, and the bustling streets instantly fell into an eerie silence.

“It was…it was a shooting!!!”

Suddenly, someone shouted this, and then a pedestrian who reacted first turned around and ran away without looking back as if he was running for his life.

The shouting and running were like lighting the fuse of explosives, and in an instant the entire city center was in riot.

"Run away!!!"

"Killed!!!"

"It's Jack the Ripper!!!"

The orderly order was ruthlessly broken. Everyone on the street started to flee frantically in the direction away from the gunshots, shouting strange words, as if the end of the world had come.

Jiang Mingxiang and Kikukawa Seiichiro were also a little panicked, only Moroboshi Hideki still maintained basic calm.

He patted his two friends on the shoulders.

"Remember, that London guy said that if there's any big commotion inside we should go in and provide support immediately. Let's go!"

“Oh, oh!”

The distance from the door to the hall is not long.

But by the time the three twelve-year-old boys entered the club, the fight in the hall had already ended.

The scene was quite...tragic.

Tables, chairs, cups and plates were all over the floor. The red-brown wine slowly flowed along the cracks in the wooden floor, mixing with the dust wherever it passed. It was so turbid that it was impossible to tell whether it contained blood, feces or urine.

The polite bartender in a waiter's vest was so frightened that he hunched over and hid under the bar, not daring to come out. On the counter in front of him were three gangster drinkers with their heads pressed into the table.

Judging from the angle of the bent cervical vertebrae, he should be about to die.

And this can only be regarded as the mildest death in the entire hall battlefield.

Because as long as you shift your sight a little, you can see a lot of things like -

The entire leg of the stool was stuffed into her anus.

The chopsticks pierced his eyes and penetrated the back of his head and nailed him to the wall.

And those who had their heads pressed against a table and had their ears pierced with an ice pick or ice chisel.

However, the most exaggerated thing was the black meat mountain piled up by a long table near the back door, which required at least twenty or thirty people to build.

The reason why it is black is because every person who makes up a part of the meat mountain is wearing a standard gangster suit.

What is this, a Khorne transit?

Jiang Shouxiang and Kikukawa Seiichiro, two children who grew up in a honey pot, had never seen the real situation. They bent down, covered their mouths and turned their faces away after just one look.

Even the calmest Hideki Moroboshi turned pale.

Fortunately, at the critical moment, a bottle of orange-brown rum appeared in front of them, held in the hand of a fair-skinned boy.

"Would you like a drink to calm your nerves?"

Eh?

The three of them were stunned for a moment, forgetting about feeling nauseous and vomiting, and they all raised their heads and looked upwards at the same time.

The person who appeared in front of them was naturally Serabelle, but he seemed to have just come back from washing his hands, and there were still crystal water beads hanging on his hand holding the wine bottle.

Serabelle seemed to have thought of something, and she let out an "oh" and slightly withdrew her hand.

"I almost forgot. Minors in Japan are not allowed to drink alcohol, but maybe it's okay in the game?"

"No, no need..."

"I don't drink..."

"Me too……"

The three children shook their heads quickly.

They are just relatively naive, which doesn't mean they are fools. The situation in the hall here is obviously what Serabelle and the other two who came in earlier pointed out. As for why the latter looked like they had just washed their hands, it can be basically guessed even without asking.

"Really? Never mind."

Serabelle shrugged, unscrewed the cap of the wine bottle, took a sip, and then walked slowly to the black meat mountain.

Hattori Heiji was sitting cross-legged on the banquet table next to him. In his hand, he also held a wooden stick that he had picked up from somewhere. The tip of the stick was pointing at the nose of Colonel Monlang, who was sitting on the ground with a look of gritted teeth.

The latter, the second most dangerous man in London, could only stare with his eyes wide open when the situation was stronger than he was, like a loser who had hit a wall.