Chapter 22: William Hill

The public transportation system in Los Angeles has always been underdeveloped, and with the continuous influx of people, City Hall was finally compelled to decide on building subway lines to ease the congestion in the urban area and attempt to unite the city as a whole.

Never overestimate the speed of American infrastructure; since the fifties, there have been rumors of subway construction, but even now, only a tiny portion has been built. If white Americans enjoyed doing hard labor, then a century ago there would have been no need for Black and Chinese laborers to come to the United States, and Sumu would not have been born here. His ancestors crossed the ocean because of railway construction, eventually settling in Los Angeles. There are many old immigrants like his family, who came for similar reasons.

The subway ambled along, stopping and starting, and after it reached the final station, they hailed a taxi for a journey of over ten kilometers to their destination. The Black cab driver was a chatterbox, complaining throughout about business not being as good as expected, since the Olympics hadn’t brought in as many tourists as anticipated. He also grumbled about the mayor wasting money on unnecessary venues.

Sumu and Du Zhong paid little heed; taxi drivers are always talkative. Their job is tedious and dull, and if they don’t find someone to talk to, it can drive them mad. Really, they’re simply venting their thoughts to anyone, without expecting their passengers to agree.

The area of Los Angeles is equivalent to a square thirty kilometers on each side; not large compared to other megacities, but highly diverse. The pace of economic development is swift, with commerce, trade, port activities, manufacturing, tourism, and more all showing robust prospects. The familiar film industry accounts for only about one and a half percent of the total economy. The population keeps growing as waves of immigrants move in, with the proportion of white residents steadily decreasing, leading some to call it a “third world city.”

This metropolis on the West Coast lacks a conventional downtown, nor does it have typical suburbs; here, the suburbs are city, and the city is suburban. Definitions are all relative to other centers, and geographers struggle to find the right words to describe it. Eventually, some naming experts in Southern California referred to the small cities as “galaxies,” and the greater Los Angeles area as the “Milky Way.”

Rarely venturing into the bustling city center, Sumu didn’t see the towering skyscrapers of Manhattan. Los Angeles sits atop a seismic zone, making the construction of high-rises unfeasible. Compared to what he’d seen before, the city had become noticeably cleaner with the Olympics approaching. Police officers were everywhere, maintaining order; anyone attempting to run a red light was immediately stopped by an officer. There were no traffic cameras yet, so traffic order was enforced manually.

Due to constant migration, property prices in the prosperous areas of Los Angeles, especially near Hollywood, have been rising. Beverly Hills is the most famous wealthy district, while Long Beach, Malibu, Santa Monica and other areas remain somewhat chaotic; in the sixties and seventies, many middle-class families relocated out of those neighborhoods.

Sumu was now dreaming of owning a villa in the city, ideally in Beverly Hills. For him, it was nothing short of a fantasy—so distant that even he doubted it would ever come true.

After paying and stepping out of the taxi, he and Du Zhong found the “William Hill” betting shop. This company is Europe’s most renowned sports betting group, mainly focusing on soccer. Today, the global betting industry’s annual output exceeds $200 billion, and companies like this rake in riches. The lavish décor of its entrance was obvious even from across the street.

They didn’t limit themselves to soccer; this company bets on almost everything. A few years back, they wagered on whether Prince Charles would marry Diana, then on whether their first child would be a boy or a girl, and after Prince William was born, they bet on his name. In short, their business is vast, and missing the chance to bet on the Olympics would be inconceivable.

“Luckily the driver knew the address, or else finding this place would’ve been impossible.

Right now I kind of regret coming out with you; this weather’s unbearably hot. I want to go swimming, or eat ice cream—ideally, someone would just put me in a refrigerator.”

The taxi had no air conditioning, and by nine o’clock the sun was already up, leaving Du Zhong drenched in sweat. Drops trickled from his chin as he spoke listlessly, hiding in the shade and unwilling to move.

Sumu was hot as well. Unfamiliar with the area, he only found the place thanks to the address on William Hill’s advertisement. The streets were jammed, car horns blaring, adding to his irritation. He said helplessly, “Come on, I’ll take you to buy some later. After we’re done, let’s find a mall to cool off in, and I’ll treat you to Haagen-Dazs, alright?

Their ice cream is pretty good—you can eat your fill. Maybe there’s air conditioning inside this betting shop. Are you sure you want to stay out here?”

“You said it—I’m going to eat you broke today!” Du Zhong didn’t want to walk, but was even less willing to stay by the roadside. He quickly weighed the pros and cons and stood up, crossing the street with Sumu.

When they entered William Hill, a blast of cool air greeted them, making them feel instantly comfortable. The interior was exceptionally luxurious, resembling a high-end hotel lobby. People are more inclined to trust a betting company that displays its strength, so the initial investment in décor was clearly worthwhile.

Despite having just opened, queues had already formed at every betting window. With the Olympics imminent, many hoped to try their luck. The range of betting options was dazzling, with posters advertising odds in prominent places—for example, the odds for UFOs appearing at the Los Angeles opening ceremony were set at one to ten thousand. Truly, a “ten-thousand-fold return.”

The weather on the day of the Olympic opening ceremony had also become a betting category. Even though forecasts predicted brief showers, the betting company offered odds of four to one for rain during the ceremony, so whether the skies cooperated would directly impact many wallets.

Besides that, the company offered amusing bets, such as odds of ten to one for a stage equipment malfunction during the performance, and fifty to one for the Olympic flame going out before the final torchbearer receives it.

After reading the posters, Sumu laughed and asked Du Zhong, “Du Niang, do you want to bet some money?”

“Betting against the house is asking for trouble—I’m so broke I’d rob a bank, let alone place a bet.” As he finished, the security guard at the door glanced at him, prompting Du Zhong to quickly explain, “I’m joking, just kidding with my friend.”

The guard sized him up, then continued his patrol. These betting shops have as much cash as banks and take security seriously.

Sumu hesitated; he wanted to try his luck but was reluctant to part with his hard-earned money. After a moment’s indecision, he said, “I’ll put down twenty dollars later. I’m going to queue up—find a seat and wait for me…”