HLM – Chapter 1090 Must Be Deadly

Sunset Town’s main street wasn’t long, but plenty of people had come out to welcome Tuhao Jin. Many tourists joined the excitement as well. Wang Bo even spotted many visitors from China, holding up video cameras to record the scene.

Chen Luoxian was also leading a tour group this time. She said, “New Zealanders are really this crazy about horse racing?”

Tuhao Jin and Malong proceeded down the street to waves of cheers, and yes, the people around them were quite wild.

Wang Bo shrugged. “I’m not very familiar with the sport, but I don’t think they’re crazy for the sport itself. They’re crazy because they made money.”

“That’s true.” Chen Luoxian laughed. “I heard several people say they bet on Tuhao Jin and won big.”

Some Chinese tourists nearby eagerly asked, “If we place bets now, is it already too late?”

Wang Bo said, “Betting on Tuhao Jin is definitely too late. But there are other big races in Christchurch right now—you can still bet on plenty of horses.”

A middle‑aged man with a shiny bald head chuckled, “Forget it, Old Du. If there’s no guaranteed win, don’t touch that stuff. Did you already forget what happened in Auckland two days ago?”

In one of the tour routes arranged by Chen Luoxian, there was a stop in Auckland to experience the casino atmosphere. To keep tourists from gambling too much, the travel agency usually provided the chips—just one or two hundred dollars each—purely for fun.

Under such controlled conditions, there shouldn’t have been any “lesson.” Curious, Wang Bo asked, “What happened to you all there?”

The man awkwardly replied, “Nothing, nothing…”

The half‑bald man cut him off. “Nothing? Old Du took all six of our chips… and then lost everything within two rounds.”

Wang Bo nodded. “That’s not too bad. Still, it’s better not to touch gambling at all. I have a friend who nearly lost everything because of it.”

Naturally, he meant Anderson. That was why he’d been so furious after learning Anderson went back to gambling on horses.

The victory parade lasted more than an hour. Malong eventually grew impatient, but Tuhao Jin remained excited. Just like on the racetrack, the moment he had an audience, he was in high spirits.

Wang Bo accompanied Parker to the stables. When they reached the paddock area, Sir Turin’s condition clearly changed.

A good horse is highly intelligent. A horse like Sir Turin, trained for six or seven years, was even more so. Like Parker had said, it knew it had lost its chance at the championship. It had been gloomy ever since leaving the racetrack.

But once it arrived at the paddock, Sir Turin lifted its head. Its eyes regained a bit of brilliance as it stared toward the distant herd of horses.

Seeing this, Parker’s eyes lit up as well. He said with delight, “Hey, buddy, you see that? My girl looks different than before!”

Wang Bo cooperated. “Yeah, seems like she wants to run again.”

The Heart of the Paddock had already upgraded to Level Two, giving it a stronger attraction to animals. They could all sense this grassland was different from other places.

But Parker thought it was the running herd that attracted Sir Turin. He said, “Looks like she’s been too lonely. I should’ve thought of that sooner—she’s been alone for too long!”

Wang Bo continued agreeing, “Exactly. Thoroughbreds are herd animals by nature. Like humans, they need companions.”

Parker asked, “Those horses—are they Tuhao Jin’s kind? He came from that herd?”

Wang Bo nodded. “Yes, that’s my wild horse herd. But they’re very well‑trained now. You can go take a look later. Their quality is excellent.”

Parker was a passionate racing enthusiast—half an expert, really.

Even from a distance, he could tell this herd was extraordinary.

A herd of horses running is always a shocking sight. But this herd was especially fast. As they galloped across the grass, the ground vibrated lightly under their hooves, and the sound stirred the heart.

This stirred thoughts in Parker’s mind. He asked, “What are you planning to do with these horses? Are they all going to race? Interested in selling any?”

Wang Bo hadn’t considered that before—mainly because he’d never displayed them on the market.

Since Parker asked, he needed to give an answer. “It depends. If they meet the right owner, I’d be happy to match them.”

Sir Turin couldn’t be put with the herd. It was a purebred—if the herd rejected it or injured it, things would get messy. Even if the herd accepted it, there was another risk: one of the stallions might breed with it. That would be a heavy loss for Parker.

Still, Sir Turin began to run, with Parker personally riding it across the grass.

In terms of appearance, Sir Turin was far more elegant than the wild horses. Yes, horses have temperament: Sir Turin’s was graceful and airy—something wild mustangs didn’t have.

But that didn’t mean the mustangs were inferior. They were just as striking, but their beauty was fierce and untamed—a completely different charm.

As Parker galloped across the grasslands, Wang Bo went off to prepare the evening’s championship party.

The central square was still under heavy construction and wouldn’t be ready until spring.

Thus, the celebration party would once again be held on the lakeside beach.

Where there were Maori people, there would be a hangi. Two large pits near the beach—used year‑round for hangi—were already set up. Atulu had people heating stones for the feast.

The seven restaurants of the White Pagoda were also running at full speed. Since the party was buffet‑style, they were busy preparing all the necessary dishes.

By dusk, giant bonfires blazed upward, deep red flames shooting into the winter sky, lighting up the faces of those warming themselves by the fire.

A stage had been erected in the center. Since The Sunset Band had gone to Auckland, Wang Bo had hired new resident singers. One of them would perform at the party tonight.

A passionate voice boomed from the speakers, spreading outward across the area. The quiet black‑necked cranes flew away, leaving behind a few disdainful side‑glances.

A group of blue ducks paddled over curiously. They were a protected species—nobody dared touch them. But the birds were very cautious; if anyone got too close, they’d wiggle their tails and dive back into the lake.

Wang Bo arrived at the lakeshore in the freshly repaired jeep. He saw Ben McGee weaving through the crowd like a colorful butterfly, occasionally raising a beer bottle and laughing loudly—his public relations clearly going well.

Wang Bo gave Atulu a look. Atulu understood immediately, waved over a large Maori man, and said:

“Kakabulita, go take a few of the boys and have a few more drinks with our deputy mayor. Looks like he really likes alcohol.”

The Maori man grinned knowingly. “Should I use lethal force or beer?”

Atulu smacked him. “My friend, you still don’t understand? Lethal force is terrifying. Drink it and you’ll go crazy. So of course—use lethal force!”