Zheng Qingyun asked, "So you want to use this opportunity to verify whether this machine can detect sweat-marked cards or not?"
Wei Changfeng shook his head slightly. "I think there's a high chance it can't detect them. Because as long as a player touches the cards, they'll inevitably leave traces—maybe sweat stains from being nervous, or dents from unconsciously pinching the cards.
"It's probably very hard to distinguish those from professional sweat-marking.
"So there's no need to verify this. As long as we tear one card apart before the end of each round and let the machine replace the deck with a new one, that's enough.
"The game rules don't forbid it, so it's allowed.
"That way it's fairer for everyone, isn't it?"
Zheng Qingyun looked at the machine in front of him again. Through the frosted glass, he could vaguely see the tabletop below it open up, the original deck being sent into a special slot for destruction, and at the same time a new deck being taken out.
