Chapter 86 — WHEN THE WORLD STARTS GAMBLING
Beyond the academy’s outer perimeter, where official authority softened into tolerated chaos, an entire marketplace had risen overnight. . A temporary city, erected with frightening efficiency. Spirit-forged pillars anchored massive canopies, sigils burned softly in the air, and layered defensive formations hummed beneath the ground like a sleeping beast.
At the center of it all floated a massive emblem, projected high above the crowd in shimmering gold:
MERCHANT GUILD — OFFICIAL PUBLIC POLL
They called it a poll.
Nobody was fooled.
This was gambling on survival.
By midday, the place was overflowing.
Common citizens packed shoulder to shoulder with cultivators. Retired veterans leaned on canes, arguing loudly. Merchants shouted odds until their voices cracked. Children sat on their parents’ shoulders, pointing excitedly at glowing nameboards they barely understood.
Coins clinked. Spirit stones glowed. Fortunes changed hands every second.
"SEVEN-TO-TWO ON AZURE DRAGON’S CAPTAIN!"
"NO WAY HE LASTS IN A FREE-FOR-ALL!"
"PUT IT ALL ON THE SHADOW ONE—I TELL YOU, HE’S NOT NORMAL!"
Massive panels hovered above the crowd, updating constantly. Names rearranged themselves. Odds fluctuated wildly as rumors, partial intelligence, and outright lies flooded the system.
At first, it was business as usual.
Then the competitors arrived.
Chen Wulian stopped dead at the edge of the pavilion, hands on his hips, staring at the sheer scale of it.
"...Why does it look like a festival." ,he asked slowly.
Zhao Ming squinted. "Why does it look like we are the attraction."
Qin Shuo adjusted his glasses, eyes scanning the structural flow of the place rather than the crowd. "...The Merchant Guild optimized traffic density and emotional stimulus. This setup encourages impulsive decisions."
The Merchant Guild was a very established guild which had an esteemed presence throughout the continent, it was also the organisation Qin Shuo and Wang Xie wanted to join.
Ouyang Xue’er crossed her arms. "So. A trap."
Jin Ruolan’s eyes sparkled. "A beautiful
Long Hao stood quietly, gaze drifting across the betting boards. Names. Odds. Probability curves. He could feel the subtle pressure of attention the moment they stepped in. Eyes turned. Whispers followed.
Ling Yifan exhaled through his nose. "They’re turning Stage Three into entertainment."
Chen snorted. "Welcome to society."
A Merchant Guild representative noticed them almost immediately. The man stiffened, then hurried over, smoothing his robe with practiced professionalism.
"Honored competitors," he said with a polite bow. "You are, of course, welcome to observe."
Chen tilted his head. "Observe what. People betting on which one of us gets flattened first?"
The man smiled thinly. "Public confidence."
Qin Shuo stepped closer to the nearest board.
His name was already there.
All of theirs were.
Numbers next to them.
Cold. Precise. Merciless.
"...I dislike being converted into an equation," Zhao Ming muttered.
Jin Ruolan, on the other hand, looked thrilled.
Before anyone could stop her, she strode straight to a counter.
"I’d like to place a bet," she said brightly.
The attendant blinked. "On...?"
"Myself."
For half a second, the world stopped.
Then laughter exploded.
"HAHA—IS SHE SERIOUS?"
"THAT’S NOT ALLOWED—IS IT?"
The attendant hesitated, fingers hovering over the interface, then glanced down at the glowing regulations.
"...There is no rule forbidding participants from betting."
Jin dropped a heavy pouch onto the counter.
"All of it."
The system chimed.
Odds shifted violently.
Chen stared. "YOU CAN DO THAT?!"
Zhao Ming’s eyes lit up like a child discovering arson. "WAIT. IF SHE CAN—"
Chaos followed.
Rong Yueran entered the chaos.
"Well, this is pretty stupid." she said.
The whole crowd looked at her.
"Why place a bet when the result is certain?"
She took a pause then continued.
"OF course, since I’m the one who’s gonna win, anyway."
"Hey, no fair. You are not the only one here who is scary, we got a couple of them ourselves." Chen Wulian interrupted.
Well, she did had the highest odds of winning and actually encouraged more people to bet rather than them leaving.
Competitors began stepping forward.
A Vermillion fighter bet on himself with smug confidence.
A Frostcloud survivor placed a grim wager against his own name, expression hollow.
Someone bet on first elimination.
The Merchant Guild staff scrambled as their predictive models spiraled into instability.
And then—
The ground seemed to thrum.
A massive shadow fell across the counters.
The Dragon Turtle Academy dean stepped forward, arms crossed, grinning like a man about to ruin several spreadsheets.
"HMMM," he rumbled. "ODDS ARE BAD."
The attendant swallowed hard. "S-Sir...?"
"I’LL FIX THEM."
He placed a sealed container on the counter.
The air shifted.
Formation arrays flared instinctively. Defensive layers reinforced themselves.
Several cultivators nearby went pale.
"...That’s king-tier," someone whispered.
The attendant’s voice shook. "M-Multiple king-tier resources...?"
The Dragon Turtle dean grinned wider. "YEP."
The pavilion exploded.
"ARE YOU INSANE?!"
"THIS IS JUST AN ACADEMY TOURNAMENT—"
"IT IS NO LONGER ONE!"
The representative nearly fainted. "O-On whom would you like to place this wager?"
The dean tapped the board lazily.
"EVERYONE FROM MY TEAM"
Odds detonated.
Numbers recalculated at impossible speed.
Somewhere deep in the Merchant Guild’s systems, emergency recalibration protocols activated.
Moments later, the Azure Dragon Academy dean arrived, took one look at the scene, and closed his eyes.
"...Why does this keep happening."
The Vermillion Phoenix Academy dean appeared beside him, amused. "You must admit, it’s efficient."
The Dragon Turtle dean laughed. "YOU’RE WELCOME."
The Azure Dragon dean stepped forward, calm and deliberate. He studied the board for a long moment.
Then placed his bet.
Smaller.
Sharper.
Terrifyingly specific.
Murmurs spread.
The Vermillion dean followed.
Her wager was elegant. Symbolic. Enough to make several guild elders watching from afar sit up straight.
The Merchant Guild staff stared at the counters in open disbelief.
"This isn’t a poll anymore," one whispered.
Another whose face couldn’t be seen smiled viciously, replied "Easy Bait."
Long Hao watched the shifting odds, expression unreadable.
Ling Yifan stood beside him, arms folded.
"...The entire world’s watching now," Ling Yifan said quietly.
Long Hao nodded once.
"Good," he replied. "They should see what they’re betting on."
Behind them, the pavilion roared louder than ever, fortunes rising and collapsing on futures not yet written.
And far beyond the lights and noise, the final stage of Stage Three grew heavier.
Not just with blood.
But with expectation.
[Chapter ENDS]