Superman

"It's dull..."

Staying in the Flamingo Hotel under the name of the Mafia, Howard, who had been indulging in fun for a week, collapsed on the sofa, his eyes seemed to be out of focus, he looked bored.

Baccarat, Texas Hold'em and other games are tired.

Alpine ski resorts are under construction, and you can play golf when you are idle.

The natural hot springs are soaked almost every night, lying in a hot spring pool large enough to hold hundreds of people, looking down at Las Vegas below, it is an imperial enjoyment.

And there are beautiful women rubbing their backs and watering them.

It sounds like a heavenly comfortable day, but for Howard, who loves the new and dislikes the old very fast, he has no interest after a few experiences.

Even if the mafia leader Alessandro had hinted intentionally or unintentionally, the welcome lady in the hotel, sexy croupiers and waitresses could all come to serve.

Howard, who can enter the time of the sage, did not follow the flow of the boat and wantonly prostitute, but righteously rejected such illegal acts.

Well, the reason for this.

In fact, when he arrived in Las Vegas on the first day, he was doing multiplayer sports and overdrawing his body.

Nevada is the only place in the United States that allows erotic transactions and is deemed legal.

Playboys like Howard are exhausted after only a few days, and are unable to do what he wants.

"No wonder it is a paradise for the rich, where you can do whatever you want!"

Howard collapsed on the sofa and took a sip of juice.

He showed such a boring state because Luke didn't fool around with him.

For men, going out to hijack must have fun in a team.

If you are alone, your interest is automatically halved.

"Obviously, they had to avoid the White House, and the Pentagon gang helped Captain Rogers prepare for the bachelor party, but they still had to talk about work."

Howard complained.

Two days before Luke arrived in Las Vegas, he did experience local customs.

Not only in the hotel casino, it set a record of winning forty-three "blackjacks" in a row, and then played other types of games.

Poker, dice, points, odd and even, roulette...

These gameplays developed by humans are not difficult for Luke.

Therefore, just immerse for a moment.

He got out and returned to work.

Nevada has not only Las Vegas, but also a national security zone.

The U.S. Department of Energy has set up the Nevada Test Field in the desert southeast of Nai County, where the military has conducted more than 900 nuclear explosions.

This also attracted a large number of "nuclear bomb tourists", and the atomic bomb became popular in Nevada, instantly becoming fashionable.

Las Vegas has many "Miss Atomic Bombs"—beautiful girls wearing mushroom cloud bikinis, which is a major feature.

Anyway, it's here, Luke will naturally be a war hero, visiting various military bases for condolences.

So, he left Howard in the hotel.

"This is a rare vacation. How can I just waste time in a hotel room like this."

Howard squinted his eyes and slept for a while, touched his mustache and decided to go out and have some fun.

Even play golf or go to the hot springs for a while.

Staying in the room, this does not fit his style.

"Is there anything worth visiting nearby?"

Putting on a brand new high-end suit, spraying a little cologne, and dressing himself up more like a pomp, Howard caught a glimpse of the waiter in charge of running the elevator up and down.

"Sir, there is a newly opened'Hell Hotel' outside the two streets of the hotel. I heard it is very interesting."

The waiter took the tip into his pocket and then pointed out the direction.

"Hell Hotel..."

Howard murmured.

The name seems interesting.

"A fallen soul like me should go to hell."

Howard picked up a glass of champagne and said to himself.

He followed the directions given by the waiter and soon saw the newly opened "Hell Hotel."

"Wow, the atmosphere is hot, there is a long line."

Howard raised his eyebrows, and waiting in line peacefully was not what he should do.

"Hi, man, if you are willing to give me your position, then all of this will be yours."

Opening a road with money is always one of the best ways to solve the problem.

Howard came to the front unsurprisingly, and the two security guards at the door glanced at him, and stamped the seal of the horned devil on his arm.

"go in."

The security guard said gruffly.

Howard put a hand in his pocket, and walked into the door smartly.

He sniffed, frowning slightly.

"It feels like there is a smell of sulfur."

Howard thought to himself.

Only his attention was quickly attracted by the decoration inside the Hell Hotel.

The dark red color fills every corner of the line of sight.

The soft carpet emits slight heat.

There is also a faint light flowing, like magma.

The walls are carved with various patterns with horror and weird temperament, and there are even waiters dressed like demons and demons traveling back and forth.

"It's really strange to use hell as the theme hotel."

Howard became interested and walked to the front desk where the chips were exchanged.

"Sir, we don't accept checks and cash here."

The crooked horns on the top of the head, the waiter with a hooked nose said.

He rejected the check signed by Howard and the banknote he took out of his wallet.

"Then what do you charge here?"

Howard raised his mouth and asked curiously.

"Soul. The Hell Hotel trades souls for chips. There is a place to weigh your soul."

The waiter answered stubbornly.

"Pretending to be like that."

Howard looked in the direction the waiter was pointing, and there was indeed a huge scale not far away.

Many guests who entered the hotel stood on it, waiting for the final result.

"Soul exchange for chips? What if my soul cannot be exchanged for enough chips, or if I lose all my chips, I want to continue the game?"

Howard put his arms around his chest, like a deliberate guest.

"You can sign a contract to mortgage your soul in the Hell Hotel forever."

The waiter was expressionless and took out a thick stack of papers.

"We have ten, thirty, fifty and one hundred years of short-term pledge contracts, and two to one thousand years of long-term pledge contracts."

Howard just glanced, the dense English words were enough to make people headache.

He curled his lips, randomly drew out a pledge contract with an unknown period, and then signed his name.

In the waiter's dark eyes, a ray of fire flashed.

He stacked several stacks of chips of different denominations, neatly packed them in the tray, and handed them to Howard.

"Welcome to the Hell Hotel, I wish you a good time."