Richest Rag-picker

Chapter 340: Chapter 323: Isn’t This a Joke?

After all this, Qi Xiaotian carefully handed a bank card to Fang Chenyi, but Fang Chenyi just waved it away.

"You keep it. The PIN is the last six digits. Like I said, it’s an advance on your salaries."

He was about to refuse, but Fang Chenyi gave another wave that left no room for argument. He then gestured for the two to pick up the two large cases and led the way out.

Everyone in the casino hall saw what was happening. Seeing Fang Chenyi’s group not only return safely but also cash out so much money, they couldn’t help but feel quite satisfied with the cruise ship’s casino for a moment.

The three of them went straight back to their presidential suite. Looking at the two extra-large briefcases, Fang Chenyi casually pointed to his bedroom and said:

"Just put them on the coffee table in there."

Qi Xiaotian and Liu Yishou didn’t hesitate. They immediately picked up the cases and placed them on the coffee table in Fang Chenyi’s bedroom.

The immense weight made the solid wood coffee table let out a CREAK, a testament to just how heavy the cases were.

After setting down the cases, Qi Xiaotian and Liu Yishou went straight out to the living room. Seeing their still-wary expressions, Fang Chenyi chuckled and spoke to them.

"Heh, all right, you two. No need to be so tense. It’s getting late, go get some rest."

Hearing this, Qi Xiaotian shook his head.

"It’s fine, Brother Fang. You go rest. I have a bad feeling about this. The two of us will stay out here."

Fang Chenyi actually had a bad feeling too, but he wasn’t overly concerned. Hearing Qi Xiaotian say that, he didn’t argue and simply turned back to his bedroom.

He casually closed the door behind him before walking over to the coffee table. Staring at the two large cases, Fang Chenyi knew he couldn’t just leave them sitting there. It was far too unsafe.

With that thought, he reached for the clutch bag under his arm, unzipped it, and pulled out the woven bag from inside. After shaking it open, he reached for one of the cases.

’Holy shit, this is seriously heavy.’

Fang Chenyi roughly estimated that a single case weighed at least fifty kilograms. No wonder it made the coffee table creak.

Just as Fang Chenyi had guessed, a stack of 100 new hundred-US Dollar bills weighed about 105 grams, meaning a single bill was 1.05g. A million dollars was 10,000 bills.

That amounted to 11.05 kilograms. Since one case held four and a half million, that came to 49.725 kilograms. Factoring in the briefcase, the total weight was easily over fifty kilograms.

Fortunately, Fang Chenyi’s physical stamina was now exceptionally good, and he had more than enough strength. He lifted the fifty-kilogram case with one hand as easily as a normal person would lift something around twenty pounds.

As he tossed the case into the woven bag, a thought crossed his mind, and the case vanished directly into the bag’s pocket dimension.

He repeated the process, and soon the second case was tossed in as well.

After finishing, Fang Chenyi couldn’t help but marvel, ’This woven bag is truly out of this world.’

He dusted off his hands and looked toward the mouth of the woven bag, then reached inside and grabbed something.

When he pulled his arm back out, he was holding an object. It was a handgun, gleaming gold from end to end. But this wasn’t the Beretta Fang Chenyi had taken out before; it was a golden Desert Eagle!

’Holy shit, I didn’t look closely before. How is there one of these things in here too!’

When he saw this gun in Demo Did’s car earlier, Fang Chenyi had thought the man was just a nouveau riche show-off. He never expected to have one himself. ’Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.’

He shook his head helplessly and reached back into the woven bag. He had just noticed on his previous inspection that there was a small display case on the gun rack inside, holding five or six different handguns.

Of course, without exception, they were all either gold or silver. Not a single one was a normal color.

When he pulled his hand out again, he was holding the silver-white Beretta from before, followed by a silver-white Glock.

Looking at the three real firearms laid out side-by-side on the coffee table, Fang Chenyi couldn’t help but feel a little thrilled.

He reached in again, this time pulling out a large pile of assorted bullets and several empty magazines. However, the ammo boxes were all labeled with different model numbers, which gave him a headache. ’Damn it, I have no idea which bullets go with which gun.’

He glanced back into the woven bag and saw some tube-shaped objects next to the display case, so he pulled those out too. Once they were out, Fang Chenyi recognized them at a glance. These had to be the legendary silencers.

He picked up a relatively large black silencer and casually stuck it onto the gleaming golden Desert Eagle. To his surprise, it actually fit.

But once he’d attached it, the already long Desert Eagle became the size of a submachine gun.

Seeing this, Fang Chenyi was speechless. ’Aren’t handguns supposed to be convenient? At this size, I might as well just grab a submachine gun.’

Shaking his head and looking at the empty magazines, Fang Chenyi had no choice but to put the woven bag away, stand up, open the door, and call out:

"Xiaotian, Yishou, you two come here for a second."

Hearing Fang Chenyi’s call, the two men hurried in. But as soon as they entered and saw the three handguns on the coffee table, their eyes went wide!

"My god, Brother Fang, where did you get these?!"

Fang Chenyi didn’t answer Qi Xiaotian’s question. Instead, he walked back to the sofa in front of the coffee table, sat down, and picked up the Desert Eagle with some embarrassment. He then said to Qi Xiaotian:

"Heh heh, so, uh... I don’t know what kind of bullets these three guns use."

By now, Qi Xiaotian and Liu Yishou had hurried over to the sofa. Looking at the two remaining shimmering silver handguns on the table, they both deadpanned. ’Jeez, one is gold, the others are practically platinum. How is anyone supposed to use these?’

But when Qi Xiaotian’s eyes fell on the Desert Eagle in Fang Chenyi’s hand, he couldn’t help but let out a PFFT of laughter.

He wasn’t the only one. Spurred by his laughter, Liu Yishou also looked at what Fang Chenyi was holding, and the next moment, he couldn’t hold back his laughter either.

Seeing their reactions, a dark look crossed Fang Chenyi’s face. ’What’s with these two? What’s so funny about me not knowing how to load a gun?’

Annoyed, he reached out and knuckled Qi Xiaotian on the head.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

Seeing the dark expression on Fang Chenyi’s face, Qi Xiaotian suppressed his laughter and asked:

"Brother Fang, that’s a... unique silencer you’ve got there, heh heh."

At Qi Xiaotian’s comment, Fang Chenyi looked quizzically at the nearly half-meter-long Desert Eagle in his hand and couldn’t help but complain:

"I feel like this thing is poorly designed. It’s so big, you might as well just use a submachine gun. Especially after attaching the silencer, I feel like it’s at least half a meter long."

Hearing Fang Chenyi say that, Qi Xiaotian couldn’t help but laugh again.

Seeing this, Fang Chenyi gave each of them a knuckle to the head and glared at them irritably.

"Seriously, what are you two laughing about?"

Ahem.

After a couple of coughs to stifle his laughter, Qi Xiaotian finally said:

"Heh heh, Brother Fang, I’m really curious, how did you even get that silencer on?"

Fang Chenyi looked down at it, then said, confused:

"I just stuck it on. Look, you just push it on like this."

Watching Fang Chenyi pull it right off with a slight tug, Qi Xiaotian was at a loss for words.

"Haha! Brother Fang, if you could just stick it on like that, it would fly right off when you fired! Heh heh. Your Desert Eagle isn’t threaded for a suppressor, so you can’t attach one. That muzzle device you’re holding is a suppressor for an assault rifle, one of the most common types. It’s much bigger than a pistol suppressor and can’t be mounted on a handgun."