Greg Dalmatian, however, was dead silent. He simply watched Tyler with frigid eyes. The young man had barged into their elite group brazenly, with no regard for his life; he was neither drunk nor crazy. Then what was his objective? Why would he risk his life to offend the Big Three?
“Prepare to die, kid!” Jerry spat in derision as his goons cracked their knuckles, preparing to assault the stranger. “Any last words?”
Tyler shrugged nonchalantly, dismissing the man’s threatening words. “What is wrong with you old folks? I have money, and I want to play Poker. What is there to be offended about that? Unless you guys are afraid to lose…”
Serpico cast him a look of scorn. “Judging by your clothes, you are middle-class and unlikely to possess over a couple hundred grand. Have you come here to throw away your family’s life savings along with your life?”