Official Savior Chapter 1: Targeting Me
This is a new series. The author’s way of writing can be a bit unorthodox, but we tried.
I hope you enjoy. If you like it, we’ll continue to translate.
The east side of the gambling table, sat a man with an evil expression and a fox scarf draped over his shoulders. This man was the Underground Emperor of this casino. On the south side of the gambling table, sat a man with a swept-back hairstyle who was fiddling with the emerald ring on his pinky finger. This was the universally acclaimed Modern Day, God of Gambling.
An underground emperor; a Modern God of Gamblers. What’s equally arrogant was that they were a many young man’s dream. At this very moment, these two celebrity millionaires were surrounded by countless lights and of course, those that were fortunate to witness this very moment. A common stack of cash was in front of the two, an amount I knew was exactly 8.61 million! Not a dollar less or a dollar more. The two of them also had a suitcase by their side, which I also knew held 334 promissory notes and various valuation certificates each.
Behind the two men, a mistress, secretary, maid, and a royal sister, along with other female relatives were sitting in a row all mixed together. Below their seemly placid faces was a deep perplexity as given from this wager, they could not tell what their future would be like. After all, only one was destined to have it all.
The Underground Emperor, whose face had the look of evil, decided to take the lead and raise after lighting his cigar.
“Five-card stud!”The underground emperor’s voice was full of magnetic charm, it was neither too fast nor too slow, but it could still cause people to die!
“A Five-card stud!” The God of Gamblers said, having long made the same decision.
The money was like a city wall attempting to prevent this decisive battle. The two men had both raised, using cash to push the other into a corner. The surrounding people all sucked in a deep breath; I, who was standing in the distance, took in an especially deep breath, deep enough that my eyeballs were almost bulging out. It was because the following performance would determine my fate tonight.
“Steady, I must be steady…” I muttered to myself, nervous as I stared at their hands. And as those two pairs of hands slowly stretched down to the suitcase by the table, my muttering because faster: “Steady steady steady…”
This time, the God of Gambling took the lead. He opened the suitcase and flung it on the table, the promissory notes within the suitcase flew out, scattering everywhere. It was like a document of death.
The Underground Emperor hardly distressed, with a ‘pa’ sound, he also opened a suitcase and threw it out. Then he pulled an attractive girl to push out to the front, and she fell onto the gambling table with a groan. As the girl hit the table, the collision caused the cash and bonds to fly upwards. Just like a celestial being scattering flower petals, beautiful yet surreal.
The most critical moment has finally arrived! Both Underground Emperor and the God of Gambler slammed down on the table and stood up at the same time.
God of Gambling’s card fell with an answering sound, he glanced up with a look full of provocation. While Underground Emperor missed and his card flew out. Panicked, he stretched out both hands to catch the card. Just like a dance of an old cat scratching the wall, fumbled for a long while but still didn’t manage to grab the card.
The director shouted and the lights on the scene was turned off one by one by half. The surrounding crowd of actors sighed in relief. As they dispersed, they expressed their pity. The first part of the scene was done very well and yet, this low level mistake was repeated again, right before the end.
Brandishing the script, the director summoned the Underground Emperor over as if he were calling some dog, and began scolding, “Your hands are not functioning, huh? This is already way past a few times now! Are you deliberately making mistakes so that you can keep smoking the set’s cigar? Next time it happens, I’ll give you a good kick! If you don’t do it properly, I, your father, will blast you to death! Screenwriter, change the script a little. If he fails again, we’ll change it to a human bomb plot!”
Like a child who did something wrong, the Underground Emperor stood there with his head lowered and hands clasped together.
I, on the other hand, was squatting, agitatedly scratching my head.
How many times was this now? Can’t we be done with it?
Maybe all of you are fine, but for me, who is responsible for all the props of this drama, I am dying.
So many banknotes, stocks, bonds, and women…do you think it’s easy for me to reposition everything?
You’re even thinking of plots for a human bomb scene?
Wouldn’t that mean I have to arrange a floor full of barbeque?
In the middle of irritation, I felt my eyelid twitch. Looking askance, sure enough the Assistant Director was striding over with a click clack click clack sound.
“Zhang Shan…, Little Shan~~~~ this…we need to do it again. Quickly put the props back in order; make it neat and proper, and have it look good.”
The assistant director was a originally a full-time actor as a eunuch; the simple call of his voice could hook out a person’s soul. Piling up smiles on my face, I said with my hands shaking as if I had Parkinson’s, “Assistant Director, no need to repeat the scene, right? From flinging the card to catching it, scattering several hundred thousands of dollars is not like playing mahjong where you can play a few ten rounds in one day. My hands have cramped up until I can’t even bend it, see. Look at it, do you think it looks like Bruce Lee’s?”
“Loquacious!” The assistant director gracefully raised his hand and poked at my forehead, “How can we, as the slave/servant, intervene with the director’s wishes? Just do your assignment properly, alright?”
Out of options, I could only hold my shoulders and touch my nose to express my acceptance. A group laughed and said, “Your imitation of Bruce Lee is not even close, ah, your stomach’s way too big.”
I was not willing to hear someone calling me fat, so I impatiently said, “I am imitating Sammo Hung getting a cold, can you widen your eyes and see I look thin?”
I rearranged the tables, neatly stacked 860,000 of fake prop banknotes, placed 334 sheets of paper back into a box and arranged a row of ladies by bust size again; by the time I was done, half an hour had gone by already.
Lights on, props ready, actors ready, special effects camera ready; all set to start again!
In a bleak casino, surrounded by piles of cash and a box full of bonds was the Underground Emperor of the Casino, with a straight.
Call the bets!
Throw the box!
Push the women!
Petals dancing around the woman!
Pa! Woosh ~
“I’ll shoot you, you useless prick!” I screamed.
They must be doing this to torture me on purpose.
At midnight, I took two boxes of lunches and left, physically and emotionally exhausted. The two boxes meant I didn’t have to come back tomorrow. Hmph! It’s even better if I don’t need to come! Why would I be willing to do this? This mentally handicapped director doesn’t know how to set the stage; yesterday, after a round of filming, I almost wanted to spit my teeth out while drinking water. Nevermind the old directing; how can anyone stand it when there is an old man behind going, “Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!”. Cut your sister! Is this father letting you cut as you want? Yet you still fire me? Have you never heard of the story of the North Taiwan Black Gang’s second generation? You guys think I have no background? Have you considered the consequences?
In the end, while the crew were eating dinner, I snuck in and moved all the filming equipment to an office, called the police, and reported about an extensive criminal gang in an underground casino, selling counterfeit money and also filming porn. I also said that the casino contained a lot of explosives. In order to strengthen my persuasion, I took pictures of the sets, and posted them on the online reporting service. The police told me I had done a good job, and that the armed police and special forces were on the way already.
I wanted to be a good person, I truly did; why did they have to force me?
As the North Taiwan Black Gang’s second generation, one day, ten years ago, I finally lost faith in that lifeless community that did not seek to improve themselves, and decidedly left that social circle that was gradually being eroded by the non-mainstream culture. I wanted to pursue a quiet and comfortable life with some humor in it. It should have been a happy time for me, but I gradually got lost in online gaming, submerging into internet dating, becoming addicted to online gambling, and finally perished with online shopping…. I mean, it did say it was only 998 and you could take back a Thailand bride home. I threw in all of my familial property into the shady matchmaking for a battle of vengeance, but in the end, I still fell to the feet of internet scammers….
In the ensuing days, I started a debt company and became a private detective, toppled multi-leveling marketing organizations, instigated telephone blackmail. I used lies to punish liars; lies to execute the liars. I alone stood against the dark hussies, fighting for revenge.
Recently, in order to hide from the combination kill of telephone swindling and shady lotteries, I hid in this cast and crew as a stage manager, wanting to simply stay low, but they just had to force my hand. Meh, that’s fine. When was vulgar films not a type of deception?
Returning back to my house and looking at the room that was half filled with deflated Thailand transvestite inflatable dolls, my tears were about to flow again. Up until now, I still didn’t know how these broken thing looked like. I never managed to scrounge up the courage to blow one up. The blowing port was very damned unscientific, even with the help of alcohol, I couldn’t put my mouth on it…
As the proverb says, when life isn’t going too well, one just simply had to settle for second best. I also have to learn to face it.
Turned on the gas, but nothing came out as I owed them money.
Flipped the switch, but the lights didn’t come. The power as I owed them money.
Picked up a knife, but the knife was blunted from use.
“I just want a hot meal,” I faced the heavens and screamed, my face filled with sadness, “I’m not committing suicide, do you need to target me so much?!!!”
Using my trembling hands to eat a boxed lunch, I also calmed down a little and used my tranquil state of mind to think a little. What does this setback count as? After all, I am still young. If I really can’t bear it anymore, then I can just go home and admit I was wrong. I heard that my father was muddling along pretty well; I can continue to run a muck as the black sheep of the second generation, and find a chance to pass on the inflatable doll and maybe even make a comeback. The future is still quite beautiful actually.
That’s right! I need to learn to confront it! As long as I’m alive, there is hope! Raising my head to look outside, it drizzled lightly as if it were some veiled dream, the breeze was slow as if it were a gentle whisper. One couldn’t help but open their door and walk out, letting the fine rain and wind blow on their face. Icy and cold, it was like a lover’s touch, but it was also like being licked by a dog. It felt nice. I lost myself for a period in wonder as then an indescribably impulse then surged up in my heart. I faced the sky and loudly shouted, “I want to confront my life again, I want to grasp my fate. I will not yield! I will not be defeated! I want to…”
I shouted vigorously in place. Just as I was about to try and bring some rhyme and rhythm in it, a clap of thunder suddenly sounded and I felt my whole body go numb. Did it hit me? I haven’t even gotten the chance to talk bit yet.
Without giving me much time utter a ridicule, my eyes went dark and fell on my back- on my deathbed. I could only feel my mind gradually slacking, vaguely aware that I will never stand up again. So this is the feeling of death. This feeling is so amazing, my mind being so dim yet so clear; so every single person who faces death feels this kind of feeling? This kind of tranquility, this kind of carefree without worries where one could imagine himself walking back to his city and then loudly arguing while using a northeastern accent, “What should I do? Just drinking some spirits, and break a leg?”
[JFB: Spirits is a drink, like wine, but not wine. Liquor. The last sentence was a bit… Not sure if it’s entirely correct. This author omits a lot of things in his writing style]