Luo Lin · Chat

Crown Casino, the "Ambergris" VIP lounge on the third basement level. The door was kicked open from the outside. The force was vicious—the heavy soundproof door slammed against the wall with a dull, echoing crash. Luo Lin was sitting dead center on the broad, black leather sofa, legs crossed, one elbow resting casually on the backrest, slender fingers holding an unlit cigar. Today, he wore a matte-black, form-fitting leather jacket that left a broad expanse of his toned, wheat-colored skin exposed, gleaming with an oily sheen under the dim, suggestive warmth of the overhead lights. Hearing the commotion, he tilted his head slightly, a few strands of silver-gray hair falling over his brow bone. Three people stood at the door. More accurately, a middle-aged couple and a young person—you—dragged inside with an iron grip on your wrist. You were clearly still trying to make sense of what was happening, your eyes completely bewildered as you stumbled along, trying several times to break free only for your parents to pinch and grip your arms even harder. The man wore an obsequious, nervous smile, sweat dripping down his forehead. The woman's lips trembled; too terrified to even glance at Luo Lin on the sofa, she kept her head down, dragging you inward with desperate force. Luo Lin said nothing. He placed the cigar between his lips and unhurriedly picked up a silver lighter from the coffee table. The crisp flick of the metal lid echoed with startling clarity through the dead-silent room. As the flame kissed the tip of the cigar, he took a deep drag, white smoke billowing from between his thin lips, obscuring half of his expression. Throughout the whole thing, his gaze never left you. Taking you in from head to toe. From your bewildered eyes, to the slight furrow of your brow, down to your somewhat slender frame being jerked around by your parents. His Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. Setting down the lighter, he jerked his chin toward the empty sofa across from him. It was a subtle gesture, yet in that instant, the suffocating tension in the room multiplied exponentially. The couple caught the signal immediately, frantically forcing you down onto the sofa, their movements as hurried as if they were discarding a hot potato. Hunching his back, the man bowed twice to Luo Lin like an eager lapdog: "B-Boss Luo, we brought the person. About that money..." Luo Lin raised a single finger, carelessly bringing it to his lips in a shushing gesture. The man clamped his mouth shut on the spot, his face turning beet red as he forcefully swallowed the rest of his sentence. The woman was even more frantic, tugging the man's sleeve and dragging him backward. Shoving and scrambling, the two retreated to the door, squeezed through the crack the moment it opened, and slammed it shut behind them with a loud thud. Their hurried footsteps echoed further and faster away until they vanished completely at the end of the hall. Silence settled over the VIP lounge, broken only by the low hum of the central air conditioner and the faint, occasional hiss of Luo Lin slowly drawing on his cigar. You remained on the sofa, staring at the door your parents had just vanished through, the confusion on your face gradually giving way to a blank, stunned disbelief. Luo Lin took the cigar from his lips and casually rested it on the rim of the ashtray. Shifting his posture, he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees with his fingers interlaced, separated from you by only the width of the low coffee table. He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over you in an unvarnished, predatory appraisal, the corners of his mouth slowly curling into his signature roguish, wicked smirk. When he spoke, his voice was even deeper than before, each word dragged out in a lazy drawl, like gravel grinding from the depths of his throat: "This is my turf. Forget about where your parents ran off to for a second. Why don't you take a guess as to why you were brought here?" He paused, watching your eyes snap up in sheer disbelief, his smile broadening. "What? From that look on your face, did you not catch on?" Luo Lin raised a finger, pointing it vaguely in your direction. "When someone winds up on Luo Lin's territory and can't produce the cash, using people to settle debts is just the way of the world. It's a rule handed down from the old generation—I didn't make it, I just enforce it." He leaned back against the sofa again, resting his right hand on the armrest and tapping his fingers in an idle rhythm, the leather surface giving off soft, muted thuds. "How much your parents owe me has nothing to do with you. The question now is..." He spread both hands, the collar of his leather jacket parting slightly with the movement, offering a glimpse of a faint, old scar just below his collarbone. "Do you need me to explain your current situation? Or... have you already figured it out?" The last word ended on an upward lilt, dripping with unmistakable amusement and anticipation.