"CALL!"
On the river, Ronaldo stared intently at his sole remaining opponent at the table and tossed out fifty thousand in chips.
His opponent, an elegant gentleman, raised an eyebrow slightly and offered a mild taunt. "Although you play football brilliantly, your choices at the poker table are terrible."
Ronaldo didn’t care. He triumphantly flipped over his hole cards. "Full house!"
He was clearly confident. The community cards showed a pair of eights and a jack, while he held a pair of jacks in his hand. It made a perfect full house. As the fourth-highest ranking hand in poker, it was incredibly strong.
"You lose." Ronaldo jumped up, cheering in excitement, then grabbed Chen Yu’s head on his right and planted a hard kiss on his forehead.
Chen Yu quickly broke free, shivering in disgust.
"Wait a moment." The opponent stopped the celebrating Ronaldo with a smile. "Mr. Ronaldo, as I said, you are amazing at football, but at poker, you suck."
Ronaldo brushed off the mockery completely. "Give me a break," he said arrogantly. "I have a full house. What could you possibly beat me with? The board makes a straight flush impossible."
The opponent shrugged elegantly. "Not necessarily." He revealed his hole cards.
A pair of eights!
Ronaldo froze in shock.
The dealer maintained a polite smile. "Four of a kind wins." He then pushed nearly seven hundred thousand in chips toward the gentleman.
Only then did Ronaldo snap back to reality. He sat back down indignantly, his face dark as he signaled for the next hand to be dealt. It was just a few hundred thousand US dollars; he didn’t care.
Chen Yu asked for a cocktail and continued watching.
Today was their third day in Las Vegas. Under Chen Yu’s deliberate arrangement, Ronaldo had been winning constantly for the first two days. The one million in chips he initially exchanged had snowballed to over 3.4 million. Aside from winning money, he had also poured a massive amount of energy into women. Las Vegas had no shortage of beauties. According to Paine, Ronaldo played hard and wild. He had probably been holding back for too long.
But starting today, under Paine’s arrangement, Ronaldo began to lose.
Just as the gentleman had pointed out, his football skills were top-tier, but his poker skills were atrocious. The opponents Paine arranged for him were undoubtedly masters. Using psychology, Chen Yu could tell that every single one of them was mentally stable and highly capable of pulling off effective bluffs. Most importantly, backed by the casino, they had unlimited funds and could afford to lose. Ronaldo was bound to spit out all the money he had won.
In another hand, seeing Chen Yu fold on the flop, Ronaldo muttered, "Chen, you’re too timid. Learn from me." He directly tossed out the maximum limit of fifty thousand chips.
Chen Yu smiled without a word. He had no interest in participating in a game with a predetermined outcome.
Ronaldo successfully scared off his opponent and won the hand. But immediately after, an even bigger trap was laid for him. As time passed, they increased the stakes at someone’s subtle suggestion.
Finally, at two in the morning of the new day, the biggest hand occurred.
On tilt and desperate, Ronaldo impulsively went all in, shoving his remaining three hundred thousand chips into the pot. His opponent matched the bet. It was a pot worth nearly two million.
Unsurprisingly, Ronaldo lost again, his flush beaten by a full house. His entire chip stack was completely wiped out.
"Still want to play?" Chen Yu turned and asked.
Everyone at the table also looked at Ronaldo. He looked up, staring blankly at the chandelier above the table. After a long moment, he shook his head.
"Chen, let’s go." He stood up and left the VIP room.
Stepping out of the casino, the lights outside were still dazzling, the night seductive. Chen Yu couldn’t help but yawn, while Ronaldo stretched his arms, suddenly looking much more energized.
"Chen, are we heading back this morning?"
"Yeah!" Chen Yu nodded, turning toward the hotel.
Ronaldo caught up and suddenly said, "Chen, thank you."
"No need."
Ronaldo hesitated for a moment before asking, "Chen, do you think I can win this year?"
Chen Yu turned to look at him. Ronaldo’s face was written with pure confusion.
"What do you think?" Chen Yu asked in return.
Ronaldo stopped in his tracks. He looked up at the massive glowing sign of the MGM Hotel and finally spoke. "I can’t say for sure. It took me a long time to convince myself after the failure in 2002.
"These past few years, I’ve trained like my life depended on it. I’ve carefully maintained my physical condition, and I kept telling myself that I couldn’t lose again this year.
"But the closer we get to the World Cup, the more panicked I become. I thought I was ready, but now I realize I’m not ready at all."
Chen Yu patted his shoulder and turned to walk away.
Startled, Ronaldo chased after him and asked why Chen Yu wasn’t trying to console him. "You suddenly brought me to Las Vegas, so you must know I have a problem. So, what should I do?"
Out of nowhere, Chen Yu had brought him to Las Vegas, letting him gamble and fool around with women. Ronaldo wasn’t stupid; he understood what Chen Yu was doing. So he had fully immersed himself in the experience. Over the past two days, he emptied his mind, thought about nothing, and truly felt a lot lighter. That was why he didn’t care about losing a million US dollars in chips, nor did he think about spending more money to win it back.
"I’m not a genie. I don’t know what you should do."
If his body was sick, Chen Yu had solutions. But if his mind was sick, there was only so much Chen Yu could do. If Ronaldo was under immense psychological pressure, bringing him here to relax helped. But the deepest knots in his heart had to be untangled and resolved by Ronaldo himself.
Pausing for a moment, Chen Yu added, "Maybe when you step onto the pitch, you’ll know exactly what to do."
If he started worrying about how to solve the problem now, he might as well wait until he actually faced it to figure out what to do.
Ronaldo furrowed his brows in thought, then sighed helplessly. "Chen, I don’t get it."
Chen Yu laughed heartily. "Perfect. I don’t know what I’m talking about either. Let’s go, time to sleep." He patted Ronaldo’s back. It was incredibly late, and he was dead tired.
Early the next morning, the two embarked on their journey back to Phoenix. Along the way, Ronaldo remained somewhat quiet, seemingly still pondering his own issues.
They drove straight back to the clinic. The moment the car arrived at the entrance, a massive swarm of reporters suddenly surrounded them. The flashing of cameras, going CLICK CLICK CLICK, nearly drowned the two men.
Ronaldo was stunned and instinctively rolled up his window. But the very next second, Chen Yu rolled the window on his side back down. Ronaldo turned his head, shooting him a questioning look.
The reporters had already swarmed in, shoving all kinds of voice recorders and microphones in front of Ronaldo’s face.
"Ronnie, at such a crucial moment in the National Team’s preparations, do you think it’s appropriate to run off to Las Vegas by yourself?"
"According to reliable sources, you threw away massive amounts of money at the poker table and lost over a million US dollars. Is this true?"
"The Brazilian Football Association stated they were unaware of this situation, but Pereira said that if it’s true, he will definitely handle it severely."
"Did you guys just get back from Las Vegas?"
The barrage of overlapping questions scared Ronaldo silly. How did the reporters know about his escapade in Las Vegas? He had stayed in VIP rooms; reasonably speaking, no one should have known. And it was bad enough that his gambling was exposed, but if the rest of it—namely, the women—got out, he would be completely doomed.
Ronaldo pushed the various voice recorders away, then covered his face, gesturing with his eyes for Chen Yu to drive away quickly. Security personnel stepped forward and blocked the reporters, allowing Chen Yu to drive into the clinic’s premises.
Ronaldo cursed in frustration. Even Pereira and the Brazilian Football Association knew! The reporters even said Pereira was going to handle him severely. How severely? Surely he wouldn’t kick him off the National Team, would he? The old man didn’t exactly have the best temper.
"Chen, how did the reporters find out?" Even after getting out of the car, Ronaldo still couldn’t figure it out.
Chen Yu shrugged. "How would I know? Probably caught on camera by some gossip reporters."
"Are you sure?" Ronaldo looked at Chen Yu in distress, his eyes filled with suspicion.
"Alright, enough." Chen Yu tossed the backseat luggage to Ronaldo. "For the next while, you’d better rein it in and behave yourself."
Bringing him to Las Vegas to relax was step one. Step two was exposing it, giving him some public pressure to force him to get his head back in the game. Instead of letting his imagination run wild, it was better for him to keep a low profile and obediently prepare for the tournament.

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