Deviant: No Longer Human
Chapter 695 - 695: Casino Gone Wrong (2)

"A-Ah? Yes, Daddy—I mean, husband! Let me just clarify—"

Collective facepalm.

An entire room full of billionaires, bodyguards, and world-class gamblers smacked their foreheads in perfect sync. The echo could've cracked marble.

Strong?

This woman?

Scam! Obvious scam!

Anran hissed through her teeth and shot them all a death glare.

"You plebeians," she snapped, hands on hips, "I am explaining, so shut your over-financed mouths."

And just like that, she launched into a breathless retelling of the chaos—casually skipping over key facts, downplaying her involvement, and ignoring the withering stares coming from all sides. She spoke as if she were giving a TED Talk titled *How to Create a Scandal and Still Look Fabulous.*

After her speech, Wang Xiao blinked once.

"Oh… that's it?" He sounded almost bored. With a sigh, he pulled out a slim, obsidian-black card from Anran's purse—a card so rare it shimmered like a dragon's scale under the chandelier.

He flicked it onto the table like it was a dead fly. "Take your money and scram."

Anran beamed. "Didn't you hear him?"

Yue frowned. "But we already paid… with chips…"

Of course, no one in this room cared about money. Not really. They were surrounded by people who used Fabergé eggs as doorstops. This wasn't about wealth.

This was about face.

Li Yongquan crossed his arms and coughed pointedly. "Boss, are you looking down on us?"

Mr. Skeleton nodded in ominous silence. Professor Mahājan adjusted his glasses like he was preparing for war. Even the koi in the lobby seemed tense.

"Young man," the professor said in that dangerously calm professor-tone, "you play well… too well."

He glanced across the table at the girls—five of them now, somehow. All beautiful. All exuding chaos energy. All younger than Anran, who still looked like a 28-year-old actress playing a 16-year-old heiress.

No one in the room believed she was their mother.

No.

Clearly, this was a second-marriage situation. A classic rich-man-marries-young-wife-for-his-daughters scenario.

And in their minds?

Wang Xiao was the lustful patriarch. Two lovely daughters. A glamorous wife. Possibly secret connections to an underground harem syndicate. Disgusting! Unfair! Inspiring!

Even Mr. Skeleton clutched his gold mask with envy.

"Hm?" Wang Xiao raised an eyebrow, a touch confused. "I was letting you off easy. But if you'd rather not…"

His gaze slid across the table like a blade. Then it stopped.

Widow Verlene.

Charming. Red-haired. Dangerous in six languages.

"You want to play too?" he asked, like he was inviting her to tea—or to ruin her life.

A sharp intake of breath from everyone. Did he just speak to her?

Verlene stood up slowly, the room leaning with her.

"Master…" she said breathlessly, "How could I bet against you?" Her voice was sultry but respectful—like a Bond villain greeting her superior.

She walked around the table, hips swaying like betrayal. She took a seat beside him without another word.

Shock.

Disbelief.

Panic.

The world's deadliest widow just switched sides?!

Even Boss Han, watching from the sidelines with his marriage still smoldering, looked on in existential agony.

One wife nearly strangled him over a joke.

This man just recruited another woman into his orbit without a single protest.

Anran just yawned and leaned into her chair.

No jealousy. No drama.

Unfair.

So unfair.

Boss Han clutched his heart.

Why is fate so cruel?

"Can we start already?" Anran drawled, striding toward the table like she was about to drop the hottest mixtape of the century.

She had already seen through Wang Xiao's intentions—like a woman who's spent years decoding his casual tyranny. With perfect timing, Mary returned behind her, wheeling in a chip case that gleamed like the doors of heaven.

$100 million worth of chips.

Casually delivered.

Like groceries.

Boss Han and his wife froze mid-argument.

Even their marital trauma paused.

"You're risking all of that *at once?*" Boss Han asked, eyes bulging like overripe lychees.

Anran smiled, brushing a nonexistent speck off her shoulder. "Oh, this?" she said sweetly. "It's just one lot."

She turned her head.

"Mary, dear? Bring nine more."

"WHAT!?"

"HUH?!"

The room imploded into chaos.

People screamed. A waiter fainted. One of the koi jumped out of the pond and gave up on life.

Li Yongquan choked on his martini. "What a fool…" he spat, standing up. "Betting a billion dollars? I'm out! This is madness!"

Mr. Skeleton calmly nodded and gestured for his gold-suited bodyguards to start exchanging chips. Like this was just Tuesday for him. Professor Mahājan hesitated—his forehead already sweating as he recalculated a billion possible outcomes.

Even the richest men in Asia were shaken. Yes, they were wealthy. But having liquid funds in the billions? That was a different game entirely.

And just then—Anran, as if bored of the drama, glanced at Wang Xiao and said lightly:

"By the way… that man's finger is insured for twenty million dollars. Each."

Everyone blinked.

"Huh?"

"Wait, what does that have to—?"

Bang!

A blur.

A scream.

"AHHHHHHH—YOU FREAKS!!!"

One moment, Li Yongquan was scoffing.

The next?

Wang Xiao had him by the neck like a chicken caught stealing rice. Slammed him onto the marble floor. CRACK. And then, without even raising his voice, placed a perfectly polished leather boot directly on Yongquan's finger—

Crunch.

The sound echoed. Like fireworks made of bone.

The room inhaled as one.

The bodyguards charged in.

Or tried to.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

The floor shook.

The windows rattled.

And then—

The army arrived.

Yes.

The actual military.

Hundreds of soldiers in full army-green uniforms stormed the floor like a tactical opera. Boots thundered across the velvet carpet. Rifles were raised with choreography. A tank could've driven through the fountain and no one would've questioned it.

Guests screamed. Casino executives dropped their monocles. One foreign investor tried to dive into a potted plant for cover.

The commander raised his fist, and the soldiers stopped in flawless unison. Silence fell like judgment.

All eyes turned to Wang Xiao.

Who didn't even blink.

"SURRENDER! YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST, SUSPECTED OF ORGANIZING ILLICIT ACTIVITIES!"

"..."

"..."

Silence.

Total, deafening silence.

Even the slot machines seemed to shut up out of fear.

Boss Han turned white. Whiter than his Hawaiian shirt. "S-Sir, surely there's been a misunderstanding…"

The commander turned his glare on him. A glare so sharp it shaved years off Boss Han's life expectancy.

Han shut up immediately.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

The windows trembled. Outside, military helicopters began circling the casino like predatory birds. Their searchlights swept across the building, illuminating the chaos inside like an unwanted birthday surprise.

But the commander wasn't here for drama. His eyes locked onto Wang Xiao like a missile with a grudge.

"You…" he growled, pointing. "You are suspected of killing our comrade. Come with us. If anyone interferes—you will all face the consequences."

The entire floor held its breath.

The gambling masters? Silent.

Mr. Skeleton? Frozen mid-chip-count.

Even Anran stopped mid-eyeroll.

Wang Xiao's face didn't change.

Not even a flicker.

Inside, he understood.

So Ning Xue had tried to clear things up, but it hadn't worked. They didn't believe the explanation. They'd tracked him all the way to Macau, ready to drag him off in chains.

He almost laughed.

Almost.

Instead, he spoke two words, low and calm:

"What a joke."

The commander squinted at the picture on his phone. He checked it again. Then again.

It was definitely him.

Same face. Same aura. Same casual dominance like he owned the air around him.

So… why wasn't he scared?

Why did Wang Xiao look like they were the ones in trouble?

"WAIT!"

Suddenly—CRASH!

Mr. Skeleton flung himself through the glass wall like a tactical raccoon, disappearing into the night, cape fluttering, chips flying. He ignored the alarms. The lasers. The guards.

He just vanished.

People were stunned.

But later? They'd all agree.

He was the wisest one among them.

Because five minutes later...

Boss Han was dead.

His body lay twitching under a collapsed pillar, still holding a chip like he'd tried to cash out at the last second.

Behind them, the 34-floor Casino of Emperors—that monument of marble and money—was gone.

Just… gone.

Demolished. Cursed. Reduced to twisted steel and shattered pride.

His wife—Li Qing—impaled by a steel rod that ran from her mouth through the back of her skull. Her diamond earrings still sparkling. Her rage frozen forever.

The military?

What military?

What was left of them were shredded limbs scattered like confetti—some still holding guns. Others twitching. Helicopters? Gone. Blown to vapor mid-air. No black boxes. No survivors.

A pile of corpses—more than a hundred—stacked with terrifying precision, as if death itself had been *organized.*

And in the middle of it all—

Wang Xiao.

He dusted off his sleeves.

Calm.

Untouched.

He turned, ignoring the blood-soaked floor, and pulled his sisters close with one arm each.

"Let's go," he said, as if they were leaving a family picnic. "I'll buy you something."

He didn't look back.

Behind him, the commander's body was half-buried between two marble columns—one arm outstretched toward the heavens. As if begging for help. Or mercy. Or a redo.

Too late.

Anran skipped ahead like they were going to brunch.

Wenxi and Yue followed silently, their shoes crunching over ash and ruin.

Wang Mei and Wang Xueying smiled—stiffly.

They had heard the stories. They knew their brother was… Glorious, bloody.

The impossible tales.

But seeing it?

But seeing it with their own eyes?

That was different.

Deeply different. Deeply terrifying. Deeply traumatizing.

"Isn't it… bad if we leave the bodies like that?" Wang Xueying finally spoke, her voice shaky but sincere, glancing back toward the still-smoking ruins of the casino.

Wang Xiao didn't even blink. "It's alright. Let them send more people if they want to."

No remorse. No worry. As if they'd just left a karaoke bar, not a massacre site.

And just like that—they walked into a luxury shopping complex.

Glass doors whooshed open. Air conditioning welcomed them.

Society, conveniently, decided to forget everything that had just happened.

Especially the women.

Shopping, after all, was sacred.

Fueled by adrenaline, trauma, and retail therapy, the sisters didn't hold back. They hit every boutique with the precision of a military strike team. The earlier display of wealth? Oh, it was remembered. Burned into the minds of every cashier and manager in a five-block radius.

Which meant—

Anran paid for everything.

Not by choice.

But through a unanimous, unspoken group decision.

After all, she was the "rich one." The wife of that man. Surely she had more diamond-encrusted credit cards stuffed in her purse.

No military showed up again.

No police.

Nothing.

They strolled through districts like gods in mortal flesh, unbothered by laws, rules, or logic.

But everyone in Macau could feel it.

The silence.

The unnatural calm before a coming storm.

____

Elsewhere…

Within the highest tower of a hidden building, steam curled across the surface of a vast private pool.

A woman—elegant, lethal, divine—rested in its waters. Her body, sculpted like a statue of vengeance, trembled slightly as she held the communicator in one hand.

"…He is here?" she whispered.

Her eyes darkened.

The Eighth Prince.

In Macau.

Her breath caught. Coincidence?

Or was fate just this cruel?

The woman was none other than the Human Empress—the same one who had unknowingly saved Wang Xiao days ago.

And now, the very name she hated most—the name that haunted her blood and boiled her bones—had surfaced here.

If only she knew.

The man she had saved…

The one who stood before her not long ago…

Was the very Eight Prince she loathed to her core.

____

Meanwhile, across Macau—

The news of the destruction was quietly, purposefully released by the government.

Not to reveal truth. But as a silent warning.

A message encoded in catastrophe:

> "Don't cause trouble today.

> Someone terrifying is walking among you."

Security forces were deployed. But not to capture the Prince.

To protect everyone else from accidentally offending him.

For one entire day, Macau experienced something historic:

- Zero crimes reported.

- No shouting.

- No road rage.

- Even the pickpockets gave back money.

People held polite smiles.

Even beggars were handed cash, food, and words of encouragement. No one dared to be rude. Not even accidentally.

This… was the power of fear.

Not a law.

Not an order.

But the shadow of one man's presence.