Super Righteous Player
Chapter 1037 - 95: Death Leads to the Depth of the Sea

Chapter 1037: Chapter 95: Death Leads to the Depth of the Sea

"But to prevent the blood vengeance that may come later, the pirates came up with a new rule. That is to give them a chance... as long as they send their own children to the casino as chips, there’s a possibility of gambling their lives back."

Isaac slowly exhaled, recalling and muttering:

"If they really win the bet, then indeed they can let them go—this happens in very few cases because everyone knows the croupiers in the gambling dens will definitely cheat. Yet these vicious pirates occasionally deliberately release one or two lives, to provide them a chance of survival.

"Anyway, whether to execute them or not, it can’t bring any profits to the pirates. It’s better used as the cost of maintaining another kind of ’tradition.’

"These children, watching as their own father or mother tie them up and send them to the ferocious and Twisted casino. Watching them, in an unfamiliar and crazed manner, without any prompting, gradually wager parts of themselves such as ’an arm,’ ’liver,’ ’their entire person,’ and bit by bit lose everything...

"Under the fear of being dismembered and death, these children gradually lose their ’love’ for their parents.

"Of course, they aren’t actually dismembered. It’s merely to scare them... because a ’living person’ is worth at least twenty times more than the pieces. But the children wouldn’t understand that, in their minds, they’ve been ’cut into pieces and sold off’ by their parents.

"And the impact of this ’momentary hatred’ formed will gradually fade over time. So, as the final part of this ritual, when their parents lose the last chance, just before they are to be executed... The method of execution for these now crazed parents is chosen by the children they personally tied up and brought over.

"They themselves participate in the process and will remember the shock of that moment, rather than ’carelessly throwing themselves out.’ In this way, the possibility of ’revenge from the remaining offspring’ can be effectively avoided. While it can’t be completely avoided, it can reduce most such cases.

"Anointing with sea serpent blood, a silver spike that can paralyze someone in a moment, penetrating the heart is the gentlest method, where the entire process is painless; there are also options like being strangled with a rope or hanged, and then they must take down the corpse themselves. The cruelest method is to hang them alive with a hook until they die. Of course, the executioner will definitely be from the gambling den’s owner.

"The choice between forgiveness and revenge... Of course, I don’t think there’s anything to forgive.

"Those bastards who would sell their children to the gambling dens just for their own survival—aren’t any different from that man."

Isaac looked at the man’s motionless figure hanging there, fell silent for a moment, and his voice softened a little: "Of course, this choice... has no meaning for him anymore."

Because that man was already dead.

So there was no point in bringing out the silver spike.

But as a matter of ceremony... Even after his death, there still had to be a choice regarding how to handle the corpse.

The boy’s gaze shifted back and forth between two items.

He took a step forward.

His hand hesitated toward the rope— but just for a moment.

His action paused slightly, then he firmly pressed down on the iron hook.

The hook bore dark red rust, possibly remnants of dried blood. The cold temperature, just by touch, was enough to let the smell of rust penetrate the veins over and over again—the boy couldn’t help but shiver.

The girl with reddened eyes stood bravely, lifting her head to watch all this.

She was clearly sad. But she also didn’t raise any objections to the other child’s choice.

She seemed to be a bit older than the boy—around eleven or twelve years old. By that age, she had begun to understand somewhat, knowing what sort of life lay ahead of her.

The familial affection of the past had already shattered on the ground the moment he brought them here.

"Good boy. Brave boy."

The mercenary let out a low voice filled with a depth like the abyss: "How brave will you be?"

"... I can, watch all of this."

The boy spoke for the first time.

He stared at the man and said, one word at a time, in a somewhat hoarse voice: "I hope to see him hung up by the iron hook."

"Heh heh heh heh heh..."

The Croupier let out a pleased sound.

He exclaimed: "Bless the tragedy... After so many years, I’ve seen it all again."

"He made the same choice as me, boss."

The fat man holding the iron hook showed a devilish grin.

That smile, which might have been simple and joyful, looked hideously grim on his face scarred with knife cuts and bullet holes.

"I remember, you said the same thing twenty years ago, Gary."

The man wearing the white mask of euphoria said, with an elated voice: "I’ve said before, his qualifications would be very good."

"Where will you sell me?"

The boy asked softly.

"That will depend on how strong you can be."

The boss gave his shoulder a pat, letting out a devilish, enticing voice, "If you’re strong and brave enough... you might just become one of us."

"I think, I can."

The boy’s voice was hoarse, "I’ve got nothing left to lose anyway."

"Then watch closely, kid."

The fat man Gary chuckled as he slung a rope over his shoulder.

He skillfully twirled a hook around and cut the rope, letting the middle-aged man’s corpse down to the ground.

Then, he swung the iron hook with the speed of a golf club—driving it precisely through the man’s jaw, sticking out from one side of his cheek.

Boos came from the surrounding crowd.

"Can’t even aim right with that wide-open mouth!"

"Fat Gary’s hand must’ve trembled, he’s been with too many women!"

"Fatty Gary, can’t even aim right when he pisses!"

"—Shut up!"

Gary roared in fury and humiliation.

He yanked the hook out, then swung it again with all his might.

This time, the tip of the hook successfully pierced through the mouth. His tongue got pushed out, signaling that the man died for "breaking a promise"—a cheek pierced through for "losing face," and eyes penetrated for "being blind."

The girl’s body shivered slightly, but she didn’t cry again.

The boy, however, had a look of relief mixed with confusion in his eyes.

"That’s enough, Gary. Drag the meat to the sea,"

The boss spoke casually, patting the boy’s shoulder, "’Dead men sink in the sea, don’t waste your anger on them’—calm down. It’s over now."

And so, the boss let go of the girl by his side.

He took off his mask and handed it to the girl, revealing a face as honest as a tavern keeper’s. By his looks alone, one might mistake him for a middle-aged mercenary, rather than recognizing him as a croupier for the gambling stalls.

He lifted the boy up and put him on his shoulder.

A female croupier behind him passed a bottle of liquor to him. She handed the same cheap wine to everyone present, including Annan and Isaac, each holding a bottle.

"What’s your name, kid?"

"Harold. Harold Ed... No, I don’t have a surname."

"Then you’ll be known as Harold from now on! ’Bold’ Harold!"

The boss announced loudly.

He bit the bottle cap off directly, took two gulps, and then poured two more into the mouth of the boy on his shoulder before raising the bottle high.

People around cheered, drinking from their bottles. Some sipped, others downed the entire bottle.

Annan took a symbolic sip as well. The taste was bitter, with a hint of rust and fish—an issue not of brewing but of contamination during storage.

"Welcome ’Bold’ Harold to our big family!"

The boss bellowed, smashing the bottle on the ground.

Everyone around cheered, smashing their own bottles as well.

And just like that, the crowd dispersed suddenly, each returning to their own business.

Only Annan and Isaac remained.

Having just witnessed this dark, brutal, and somewhat bizarre hero-style ritual, Annan looked at Isaac.

Without waiting for a question, Isaac nodded, "My time was pretty similar."

"...So, what did you choose?"

"Of course... the hook."

Isaac spoke softly, "I watched his soul return to the sea.

"There’s an old saying here, ’Dead men sink in the sea, don’t waste your anger on them’. That’s what they say... but I still haven’t completely forgotten that hatred to this day."