Curse Shirou

After the young man was so hard-core run, his expression just now seemed like a suspicious husky.

The man in Tang suit couldn't help but pursed his lips. Both he and the lady could understand Japanese, and it could be seen that the two men on the opposite side had a very close relationship.

As an ordinary gambler, if he heard others curse him for losing for seven days in a row, and he was still at the gambling table, he might turn his face on the spot.

Stared at by Zenyuan Shier, Kotomine Shirou didn't realize what was wrong with him, what he said was realistic?

At worst, you can lose for seven days in a row, as long as the opponent can play happily enough.

"What were they talking about? Flying dragons?"

Mihaier's Japanese level is relatively average, so he couldn't help but poke Liu Feilong next to him with his elbow.

"...can you not sit next to me?"

The man in Tang suit stared at the blond fool with disgust.

"What? Didn't you agree to sit down and talk, or did you want to fight again?"

"Is that just because I don't think such a trivial matter is worth bleeding, or do you think I'm really afraid of you?"

Liu Feilong sneered, under his gorgeous face was a more unruly soul than anyone else, and a pair of pupils were like cold stars, looking at each other coldly.

Mikhail looked at him for a while, then suddenly shrugged and smiled tactfully:

"I didn't say that. Your point of view is right, Feilong. It's not worth doing for such a trivial matter. We still have a lot of opportunities to 'cooperate'... But as the host, shouldn't you buy me a drink?"

He is a very patient hunter. Facing prey with high self-esteem, he doesn't mind letting the other party relax his vigilance first, so that he can experience the supreme sense of accomplishment when the hunt is successful.

"Tsk... wait for this game to end."

"Хорошо~"