Though the game was over, there was something that Raymond couldn't put his finger on. Something that unsettled him, even as he left.
A feeling of unease. Foreboding and nervous dread. Such a strong sense of suspense, that he needed to find Vincent immediately. Because the way the man in grey looked at him...
He had killing intent!
Outside, night had fallen. The wind ruffled through his hair, carrying with it warm, balmy air. The sky was clear and full of stars.
Raymond broke into a run, his sneakers pounding on the pavement.
At the back of the casino, hidden by shadows, two figures stood. They spoke to each other, their voices carrying in the wind.
"Mr. Chen asked about you."
"Tell him I'm working on it."
"You're not going fast enough. He needs more, sooner."
"Well, I'm sorry but that's not the payment schedule we agreed on."
The man in grey raised his hand, pointing a gun at Vincent.
"You're wrong. You have money right here. Now give your winnings to me!"
Just as Raymond arrived on the scene, Vincent put up his hands.
"A day or two won't make a difference," he said. "Since you want it now, it sounds you're going to pocket a chunk for yourself."
"I wouldn't do that!"
"Yes, but I don't know that. Neither does Timmy. Does he know that you're acting on your own?"
The man in grey hadn't noticed Raymond. He scoffed. "Timmy is too tolerant. It's because of me behind the scenes that he can succeed."
"He wouldn't be happy to hear you say that."
Slowly, Vincent lowered one arm and reached inside his jacket. The man in grey tensed, but he didn't need to. All Vincent took out was a stack of bills, which crumpled in his grip.
"You're such a little shit," he said.
But he wasn't talking to the man in grey. Instead, his eyes had gone to Raymond, who moved faster than he could think.
In an instant, he ran forwards and and tackled the man in grey!