"What is this? Magic?"
The older man stared intently at Yang Tian.
Yang Tian gave a lazy smile and looked at Fujate, "Am I qualified now to gamble with you?"
"These cigarettes are fake!"
Fujate reached out, picked up a pack of cigarettes, and tore it open on the spot, silver-white cigarettes spilled onto the ground.
A man standing nearby picked up a cigarette, took out a lighter to light it, took a puff, and said seriously, "Boss, this is real!"
"How is that possible? Did he conjure up so many cigarettes in an instant? Is he really a magician?"
Fujate asked skeptically.
"Fujate, in our Huaxia, there are indeed such magicians!" the elder spoke seriously, "In your Western countries, they're called magicians, but in Huaxia, they're like gods, capable of conjuring many things!"
"Nonsense!"
Fujate was unwilling to believe Yang Tian performed magic, scanning him up and down, unable to figure out another method Yang Tian might have used to conjure so many cigarettes.
