Arthur Gold Casino.
Mr. Carey rarely comes to inspect the casino, and when he does, it usually means something's gone wrong.
Rosy hurriedly arrived in her red high heels, her expression troubled, sweat beading on her forehead, her hair slightly disheveled.
"Boss, Mr. Anderson accused us of cheating, which caused him to lose money, and now most of the tables here are damaged to some extent."
"Hm, invite him for tea." Mr. Carey, hands casually in his pockets, appeared calm and collected, showing no displeasure, with a hint of sarcasm in his deep eyes.
Mr. Carey's office is on the fifth basement level, adorned with crystal bricks, and to the east stands a fish tank housing a gold arowana worth hundreds of thousands.
The furnishings are simple—a desk, a tea table, and two sofas.
Outside, Adam Anderson's agitated voice can be heard.
"Let go of me, I can walk myself. This shoddy place cheats and swindles my money. I'm bloody going to call the police and have you arrested."
