Mai stood still, her gaze brushing over Magnus as she dug through her memories, or rather, the original Mai's memories.
Nothing came up about meeting this giant in person, only a few news articles. He was known as one of the four young representatives of the Four Clans, famous enough to earn a fan nickname—the F4.
Then it clicked. The leader of the F4 was Caelan Ashbourne—younger brother to Thalion Ashbourne, the man House Goldvale was now trying to force her to marry.
Magnus's eyes were complicated. She couldn't quite read what emotion lay behind them. But after hearing him say he'd take care of her, she decided it was clearly negative.
She wondered what exactly he wanted from her, but Magnus turned away right after his threat, leaving her more confused than before.
Still, her mind spun quickly. Whatever his reasons, the bottom line was simple, this guy had it in for her.
And he was Magnus. Magnus Drakenwald—the young master of a great clan.
Which also meant… he probably had plenty of pocket money.
"Every enemy is a goat; every rich enemy is a fat goat." General once said.
Shadow couldn't agree more. Enemy = Lootable was the only math formula she ever liked during her time in charge of the expedition funds.
"Hey, big guy!" she called out. "Wanna bet?"
Magnus froze, whipping around with a scowl. "Bet on what?"
Mai smirked, her eyes glinting with challenge. "One hundred thousand dollars and one condition. Whoever ranks higher in this exam wins. The condition can't break the law, can't cross moral lines, and can't trample basic rights. How about it?"
For someone like Magnus, a hundred grand probably wasn't much. The money was what she wanted—but the "one condition" was the real hook, a gamble she hoped would be tempting enough to bite.
She still had no idea what grudge he held against her, but from the way he seemed so eager to teach her a lesson, maybe this kind of bait would be hard for him to ignore.
Magnus was stunned.
One hundred thousand wasn't pocket change, even for him. Well, alright, maybe it was for some of his friends—but not for Magnus. The Drakenwalds were strict. If he wanted pocket money, he had to earn it himself.
Still, with the advantages his clan gave him, earning money wasn't hard. He could afford it.
The real question was: what game was this girl playing? He was confident he wouldn't lose, but her motives were impossible to read.
Instinctively, he glanced at Lucian—the brains of their group—but Lucian only shrugged, looking just as clueless.
This was an exam for Raisers. Guns were banned to keep things fair—firearms could injure or even bring down an F-rank superhuman, and the test was about raw potential.
As far as he knew, Mai's entire fighting style revolved around guns. Here, that made her almost useless.
Mai lifted her head, staring straight into Magnus's eyes. She barely reached his waist, yet the slight droop of her lashes created the unsettling illusion that she was the one looking down on him—with quiet, biting disdain.
"What's wrong? Scared?" she said, voice soft but sharp. "Didn't you just say you'd 'take good care' of me?"
A vein throbbed at Magnus's temple. That contemptuous look killed any urge to think twice. Whatever trap she was laying, before his overwhelming strength, tricks wouldn't matter.
"Fine," he bit out. "But do you even have the money?"
He eyed her doubtfully. Even for them, that kind of cash took a while to save.
Mai had only just returned to House Goldvale. Even if they wanted to compensate her, they shouldn't have handed over such a lump sum all at once.
Mai didn't bother arguing. She pulled out her beat-up phone, opened her banking app, and held it up.
Balance: just over one hundred thousand.
Magnus frowned, reaching out with his huge hand to tap the tiny screen. The app lagged, but it was real—not some screenshot scam.
Mai shrugged. "We'll use the city's official app for the bet. The money goes in escrow first. What's there to worry about?"
He nodded, lips curling into a thin smile. "Fine. Let's bet."
She pulled the phone back and opened the city's official platform—a betting system authorized for the tournament.
With quick taps, she drafted the wager: one hundred thousand dollars and one lawful condition—no breaking ethics, no trampling basic rights. Then she keyed in her Raiser code, transferring her stake to escrow.
Sliding the phone across, she said, "Your turn."
Magnus scanned the contract line by line. Hot-headed he might be, but careless he was not. Finding everything in order, he scanned the code with his own phone, confirmed his side, and transferred the money.
A notification popped up, confirming the bet had been logged into the tournament system—effective immediately.
The crowd erupted into whispers, a wave of murmurs rolling through, eyes glittering with curiosity and excitement.
A young man with dyed-red hair leaned over and muttered doubtfully, "Wait, is this even legal? Gambling's banned, right?"
Beside him, a girl with a high ponytail and round glasses scrolled her glowing tablet, answering confidently, "Normally, yes. But not here. The organizers allow it—for both contestants and spectators. It's all managed by the official system."
"Then why legalize it at all?" grumbled a scruffy, middle-aged man with a patchy beard and wrinkled shirt, arms crossed.
The girl sighed, pushing up her glasses like she was lecturing. "Because if it's banned, people will just gamble in secret. Underground bets mean fights, scams, chaos. This way, the organizers can regulate it, tax it, and keep things fair. Simply put—if you can't ban it, manage it."
That explanation drew nods, though some still grumbled under their breath.
Magnus didn't care for the noise. His focus was locked entirely on Mai.
When he confirmed the transfer, Mai's face seemed to light up, like a flower blooming to greet the morning sun.
Her eyes sparkled; the coldness in them suddenly softened into something warm and honey-sweet, gentle and tender—as though she were gazing at him like a beloved.
A soft smile curved her lips, pure and alluring, and Magnus's heart skipped a beat, pounding wildly against his chest.
His ears flushed red, burning hot, his mind in disarray. He cleared his throat, ready to say something to break the awkward moment—when a flash of red and blue suddenly darted between them, cutting the scene short.
A guy in a loud Hawaiian shirt slipped through the crowd and planted himself right in front of Mai.
He clapped his hands together with a sharp smack, voice booming: "Step right up, ladies and gents! Place your bets! The Sniper Queen Mai versus F4's Great Bear, Magnus Drakenwald! Who's gonna win, who's gonna lose? Bet now!"
Standing in the middle of the hall, he declared himself the bookie, raising his phone high with the QR code of the official betting app flashing on the screen.
The crowd stirred, a few bursts of laughter breaking out.
"This guy's insane!" someone shouted. "There's no way Mai beats Magnus! Everyone just pile in on Magnus, free money right there!"
Another whispered, suspicious: "What if it's a scam? Who even opens a line like this?"
Someone else countered: "If it's on the official system, it's no scam. But to play bookie like this, you gotta have the cash to cover it. Once he runs out, the bets close. Probably won't last past a couple wagers."
A voice cut in right away: "That's Shou Maru, young master of House Maru! Money's not something he's short on."
Another muttered under their breath: "Even so, there are better ways to burn cash…"
But even as they talked, phones were coming out everywhere, scanning the QR code Shou Maru held high.
The app blinked nonstop as bets flooded in. Magnus had the odds—ten to one. One coin on Mai could win you ten, but of course, nearly everyone shoved their money on Magnus instead.
"Free food on the table, who wouldn't dig in!" a guy laughed, hammering in his bet.
Behind them, Mai tilted her head curiously, watching. She'd skimmed through the section about acting as a bookie, but the moment she saw the "pay upfront" requirement, she dropped it—she didn't have that kind of money anyway. She'd only bothered to read the one-on-one betting rules.
She leaned sideways toward Magnus, who was still frozen in disbelief. "So uh… can I bet on myself?"
Magnus caught a faint fragrance from her, and his heart beat a little faster. He hadn't yet figured out why she was suddenly acting friendly with him, when his own attitude had been anything but. But before he could say anything, Shou Maru turned to them with a dazzling smile, flashing perfect white teeth.
"Hello, hello! Shou Maru, at your service!" he said cheerfully, sticking out a hand. "I'm a huge fan—your fight with Silvermane was absolutely amazing."
Mai politely extended her hand as well. Shou shook it enthusiastically, grinning wide. "As for betting, of course you can! You're allowed to wager on yourself—just not on your opponent!"
Magnus's eyes narrowed when he saw Shou still clutching Mai's hand, with no intention of letting go. He brusquely swatted Shou's arm aside, letting Mai quietly pull her hand back, while Shou gave him an odd up-and-down look.
Mai nodded "So, when does the line close?"
Shou shrugged, still smiling. "When the bets exceed what I can cover. But I doubt that'll ever happen, so basically up until the exam starts. And hey, if you're short on cash, I can loan you some. No conditions, no interest!" He winked. "Special treatment for my idol."
Mai shook her head politely. "Thanks, but no need." Her lips curved into a brighter smile, her eyes shining even more. The odds were sitting at ten to one—if she bet on herself, a hundred grand could instantly turn into a million. To her, everyone here looked like fat crops waiting for harvest.
The real problem was finding the money to place that bet—before the exam began.
Magnus snorted at the scene, then pulled out his phone, scanned Shou's code, and dropped another hundred grand on himself. The crowd erupted instantly, buzzing even louder.
Mai's gaze on Magnus grew even gentler, almost affectionate.
Magnus's eyes met hers—warm, burning—and he faltered, quickly looking away in confusion. His glare landed on Shou instead, sharp with scorn.
Shou, however, didn't care about the bet in the slightest. He only wondered why this big bear kept snorting at him like some irritable animal.
At that moment, three more figures stepped forward. Wherever they walked, the shrieks of nearby girls rose like a chorus.
The young man in the white suit was first, wearing a friendly smile, his warm eyes edged with sharpness.
Earlier, when Magnus hadn't grasped the meaning of her move, he'd instinctively looked to this man, like it was second nature. That was enough for Mai to guess he was the group's brain.
He too scanned the betting code, tapped quickly on his phone, and placed three hundred grand. "A little extra support from your fellows," he said to Magnus.
Then he turned to Mai, placing a hand to his chest and bowing with practiced grace. "Lucian Valehart. A pleasure to meet you," he said, voice soft yet deliberate.
Then he gestured toward the man in all black combat gear. "This is Damian Ravencrest."
Damian gave only a slight nod, his cold eyes flicking over Mai without a word.
Before Lucian could introduce the last, a sharp, cutting voice spoke up. "Caelan Ashbourne," said the man in the deep crimson suit. His narrowed eyes gleamed as he added, voice dripping with irony, "Pleasure to meet you… Sister. In. Law."
The icy tone made the crowd shiver—with a few suspicious little squeals.
Mai, however, didn't flinch. Her gaze slid over Caelan, Lucian, then Damian—those who had just tossed another 300k into the bet, with a warm look.
Who knew what schemes these nobles were plotting—but compared to the ridiculous venom from House Goldvale, this was little more than plain, everyday dislike.
She could afford to be generous with her own fat crops.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise of the crowd.
"Ten thousand on Mai!"
Mai's eyes darkened, eager to see who dared try to snatch a bite of her feast. Betting on her now—what if it dragged the odds down?
