How to Tame My Beastly Husband — Chapter 125. Fortune Teller (1)
Translator: Atlas / Editor: Regan
It was amazing how easily a magical humiliation could break a person. A small sneer twisted Railin’s lips as Ben suddenly shouted, enraged.
“Are you saying I’m lying? Of course a beast wouldn’t bite their own master. But it bit me, look at this! How will you compensate me for this?”
Railin was silent for a moment. The expression on his face was so indescribable, Ben felt a thrill of alarm. Had he chosen the wrong target? He was dressed in expensive clothing and moving through a dangerous casino without any visible caution. He might be someone important.
Ben wondered if he ought to cut his own excellent performance short. But unexpectedly, Railin offered an alternative.
“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “I didn’t open my business today, so I haven’t any cash on me. But as an apology…my wife is a fortune teller of some repute. How would you like her to tell your fortune for free? Some of her customers have become rich from her advice.”
Ben’s mouth moved automatically to reject him, but that last part stopped him. Gamblers more than anyone else believed in superstition, though not so much in fortune telling. Gambling was their chosen method to make their fortune.
Normally, he would have told Railin to fuck off, but there was something curious about him. The expensive clothes, the golden pig in his arms. Had he accumulated all that wealth from his wife? If so, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let her look into his own future.
The stranger threw out one final bit of bait to Ben as he wavered.
“You’ve heard the story, haven’t you? There was one of her customers who struck it rich when he put all his money into the right game. He put one of the most profitable casinos out of business with a single bet.”
This was a lie, of course. Railin was only repeating one of the many legends that circled places like this. Every gambler here had heard a story like that, about the legendary wager that took down the house. Posted only on NovelUtopia
Ben happened to have heard such a rumor, and he wanted to trust this wealthy-looking man. He was almost there, but he had been duped by more than one type of dealer before. He was suspicious.
Another question popped into his mind.
“Why is such an extraordinary fortune teller in a place like this?” He challenged, crossing his arms. “She could work in any casino, if she’s so good. Aren’t you just trying to swindle me?”
Railin’s eyes twitched. It seemed that there was still a semblance of wit left in the other man’s addled mind. But there was one more method to overcome his doubts. A little bit of magic.
“That is why she is here,” he said patiently. “She can see her own future. Today she is destined to meet an important client. One that has not yet proven his skill, but will soon become one of the most dominating gamblers in the world. Perhaps it is you she is meant to meet.”
Railin eyes him from head to toe, as if judging whether he might be that destined man. Ben swallowed dryly, suddenly nervous as Railin stepped closer, gesturing with the golden pig in his arms.
“It did seem odd to me from the start. I still can’t believe that this guy bit someone’s leg. Normally he’s very shy. Maybe he was trying to bring someone important to me.”
Oink!
The golden pig squealed agreement, and for a moment, its eyes seemed to gleam like golden coins. It was like an omen of the enormous fortune that would come from following the pig.
Ben rubbed his eyes, doubting the vision. But when he blinked again, it was still there, the treasure beckoning from just beyond. Everything about this inexplicable situation confused him.
“What does this mean…?”
“Well? What do you want to do? Don’t you want to know your future?” Railin encouraged, and Ben could not refuse the offer. Without taking his eyes from the pig, he nodded as if possessed. Somehow, all of this suddenly felt as if it had been meant to be.
He was sick of being someone else’s tool, working hard, then living in hiding and just scraping by. The time had come to take control of his own life. Like a moth to a flame, Ben trailed after Railin.
“Come in here. Let me warn you, don’t lie to the fortune teller, and don’t do anything inappropriate. To offend a mystic invites the wrath of heaven.”
Railin smiled even as he offered the warning, lifting the front flap of the tent. Though he was a man, that smile was as beguiling as a flower, and Ben groped his way into the tent as if he had been struck blind. An exotic scent filled his nostrils, so that he couldn’t smell anything else.
The interior was black as night, except for the single light on the table, illuminating the fortune teller on the other side.
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