"How's Atlantic City? Is it beautiful?"Lying in the passenger seat of Jiang Hai's War Shield, sunglasses perched on her nose, Pra-Walton turned to ask.
Hearing her question, Jiang Hai couldn't help but nod slightly."It's very beautiful," he replied honestly, "but there are too few people."
The city's buildings were stunning, the roads wide, and with a bay nearby, the whole place seemed like a treasure trove. It was the second-largest gambling city in the U.S., and one of the top four in the world. Still, to Jiang Hai, the place felt strangely... too peaceful.
"Not many people, huh? Have you seen Boardwalk Empire?" Pra-Walton asked, turning to glance at him.
Jiang Hai nodded. Boardwalk Empire was a famous American TV show, and though he hadn't finished it, he'd watched enough to get the gist — a gritty portrayal of gang conflicts during Atlantic City's early days. It wasn't exactly his style, so he had lost interest halfway through.
"Originally, Atlantic City was just like Las Vegas — a regular city, no ties to gambling," Pra-Walton explained. "But in 1931, Vegas legalized gambling to save its economy. After seeing how well Vegas did, Atlantic City followed suit in the 1970s.
"But unlike Vegas, where the government ran things," she continued, "Atlantic City was controlled by the gray gangs. And what rules do gangs have?"
They robbed people, harassed customers, refused to pay out winnings, and loaned money at sky-high interest rates — classic gangster tactics.
Because of this, Atlantic City was popular at first. But by the 1980s, as air travel became more accessible, most wealthy players preferred flying to Vegas. As tax revenue plummeted, the government finally cracked down hard, wiping out the gray gangs. Not just local ones — even the South Vietnamese, Mexican, and Latin American gangs were driven out.
Still, the city's reputation wasn't so easily repaired.
It was like America's early days of industrialization, when land and water were heavily polluted. Even though the environment had long since been cleaned up — some rivers were now clean enough to drink from — many Americans still refused to eat fish from local rivers. That's why Asian carp became so rampant: people just didn't trust the water anymore.
Atlantic City was the same. Once bitten, twice shy.
Now, the city's flow of people was tepid at best. There were plenty of casinos, but more were closed than open. The civilian population had shrunk to just about 50,000 — almost unimaginable for a city.
Yet strangely, many wealthy individuals chose to live here. The environment was excellent, crime was low, and the remnants of the gray gangs were practically nonexistent.
As they cruised along the coastline, the salty sea breeze tousling their hair, Jiang Hai listened to Pra-Walton's vivid narration, feeling a bit amused. The United States might have over 300 million people, but compared to China, it really did feel empty. And if you wanted to talk about sparse populations, Canada beat them all.
Before long, Jiang Hai and Pra-Walton arrived at their destination: Caesars Palace Hotel.
The hotel's reputation was grander than the reality. Before the MGM Grand was built, Caesars Palace had been the largest casino in the world. Its flagship was in Las Vegas, with Atlantic City serving as a branch. Even now, it remained a world-class casino — just not as dominant.
These days, larger casinos like Sands, Genting, Venetian, and Monte Carlo had eclipsed Caesars in scale, luxury, and clientele. But Caesars retained a unique advantage: it was the venue for major indoor boxing matches — and now, also for UFC fights.
After parking in the underground lot, Jiang Hai and Pra-Walton entered the casino.
At the entrance, two security guards hesitated when they saw Jiang Hai. He certainly didn't look the part of a casino guest. Dressed in his favorite outdoor sportswear, he was far from the typical Western standard of "casual formal" — collared shirt, jacket, leather shoes.
Still, they didn't stop him. After all, Jiang Hai's car alone was worth a fortune, and the watch on his wrist wasn't far behind. In America, money talked louder than dress codes.
Inside, Jiang Hai's eyes immediately lit up.
The casino was divided into three main sections:
A smaller area for exchanging chips.
A medium section full of slot machines — not just one type, but a whole variety, like an arcade back in China. (Sadly, no fishing games.) Jiang Hai had zero interest in slot machines anyway.
The largest section, filled with gaming tables.
The tables mostly hosted blackjack and stud poker, along with baccarat and others. Tables were color-coded based on minimum bets, each manned by glamorous female dealers, with waiters and security guards roaming constantly.
Although it was only around two in the afternoon — Jiang Hai and Pra-Walton had come after lunch at her place — the casino was already lively.
There was also a special arena for the UFC event later that night, currently closed. From the paintings on the walls, it could seat about 18,000 people — roughly the size of an NBA stadium. (The Vegas arena, he heard, was even bigger.)
Additionally, there were numerous private rooms reserved for wealthy patrons seeking privacy.
After taking in the scene, Jiang Hai remembered his real purpose. He pulled out his phone and dialed Du Famen. The call rang a few times before Du Famen's hearty — and suspiciously fake — enthusiasm came through.
"Hey, Jiang! You finally called! Are you here yet?"
Pra-Walton blinked in surprise. Jiang Hai had said he wasn't that familiar with Du Famen, but judging by the way he sounded on the phone, they didn't seem that distant.
"I'm inside the casino. Where are you?" Jiang Hai shrugged at Pra-Walton, helplessly. Du Famen was always a bit unreliable.
"Me? I'm fighting! Haha! Wanna come?"
"Fighting?" Jiang Hai glanced at Pra-Walton. Forget it — better not get involved, especially with her around.
"That's a pity," Du Famen laughed. "I'll have someone send you a ticket. Play around for a bit. The boxing match starts at 7 p.m. Your seat's right next to mine. We'll talk then!"
Apparently, by "fighting," Du Famen actually meant gambling. Even so, Jiang Hai wasn't interested. Better to stay out of it. He wasn't a real tycoon.
"Alright," Jiang Hai agreed, ending the call.
He turned to Pra-Walton, and the two of them headed to the chip exchange, each cashing in $100,000 for chips.
For them, $100,000 was just pocket change.
Pra-Walton, being a local and a Walton family member, was extremely familiar with the games.
They each took their chips and started playing separately. Jiang Hai tried his hand too, but it quickly became clear: he wasn't destined to be one of those "lucky protagonists" who dominate casinos in novels.
In short: he really didn't know how to gamble.
(To be continued.)