(2/3)
Anchor Hall
Chapter 538: Gambler
Figaro led Wen Jianyan straight into the casino.
The layout inside was almost identical to when Wen Jianyan last visited. On the gigantic screens, the numbers rolled even faster, to the point where the human eye could barely catch a blur. But even so, Wen Jianyan noticed that the numbers were far larger than they had been two days ago.
The atmosphere in the casino had grown increasingly manic. Under the lofty dome, crowds huddled around gambling tables, each face bearing a copy-pasted expression of intensity. The cacophony of noise merged into a wave, dragging everyone into an inescapable, demonic vortex.
No one could maintain their sanity in such a place.
Figaro strolled forward with practiced ease, his leisurely pace contrasting sharply with the frantic crowd around him. Wen Jianyan followed closely behind, doing his best not to be swept away by the current of people.
After an unknown amount of time, the blood-colored elevator leading underground appeared in Wen Jianyan’s line of sight.
“…”
Wen Jianyan paused, sensing something, and looked back. Without realizing it, they had moved away from the dense crowd into an empty, desolate area. The frenzied gamblers seemed oblivious to this isolated space just steps away, still huddled around tables, screaming in excitement or sighing in despair.
Though only separated by a few steps, it felt as if an invisible barrier divided two incompatible worlds.
Figaro didn’t even glance at the elevator, continuing straight ahead.
Wen Jianyan recalled his first meeting with Figaro, facilitated by Chang Feiyu. After they parted ways, Figaro’s figure had quickly vanished into the darkness, his footsteps fading away—suggesting he had gone to the second floor back then as well.
This further confirmed Wen Jianyan’s suspicion: Figaro had deep ties with the casino’s higher-ups.
The light grew dimmer. Even though Figaro was only a few steps ahead, the darkness blurred his silhouette, forcing Wen Jianyan to focus entirely on following him to avoid getting lost.
Finally, Figaro stopped without warning.
“Alright, we’re here.”
Wen Jianyan stopped, instinctively looking forward. Before him lay a staircase leading straight up. At the top, a yellow light glowed—not bright, but shining like a lighthouse in the darkness.
“Want some information? I can provide it.” Figaro glanced back, narrowing his fox-like eyes and rubbing his fingers together in true profiteer fashion. “Of course, for a small fee.”
Wen Jianyan: “…Fine.”
“Good,” Figaro’s smile instantly became warmer. “What do you want to know?”
Wen Jianyan: “Who exactly is up there? I want every bit of information you have.”
“Just as you guessed,” Figaro said, starting to ascend the stairs. “The second floor houses the management of the Lucky Cruise Ship.”
“There are three managers in total. Eaton Ethan manages the ship’s accommodations, Mesvis manages the casino operations, and Carl Bell manages the underground auction.”
…Carl Bell.
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes. He had met that man on the negative seventh floor. Back then, he had introduced himself merely as the auctioneer. To think he was actually one of the managers.
Wen Jianyan quickly searched his memory—none of these three names had ever appeared on the points leaderboard.
“They aren’t anchors?”
“No,” Figaro answered.
“Are they human?”
“I don’t know.” Figaro turned back with an enigmatic smile. “After all, what is the definition of human?”
“…”
Wen Jianyan didn’t answer. He knew Figaro was right. In the Nightmare, the line between human and non-human was blurred. The anchors left behind in instances were no longer human, but were those who survived any better? Every anchor underwent some degree of alienation, and the top ten on the Nightmare leaderboard were the most alienated of all. Strictly speaking, most of them had already deviated from the definition of human.
“Above these three managers, there is a captain. I’ve heard of his existence but never seen him.” Figaro blinked at Wen Jianyan. “But I believe you’ve heard of him.”
Wen Jianyan: “…Oh?”
“Of course,” Figaro grinned slyly. “After all, he’s the number one on the leaderboard.”
“!”
This answer exceeded Wen Jianyan’s expectations. His pupils contracted, and he involuntarily stopped climbing. “…What?”
“Hahaha, didn’t see that coming, did you!” Figaro laughed like a successful prankster. “That’s right. As you heard, the captain of the Lucky Cruise Ship is the famous but never-seen Oracle Guild Master. Though, as far as I know, he hasn’t shown his face in years.”
Wen Jianyan realized, “So, you haven’t seen him either?”
“Nope,” Figaro shrugged. “Before I entered the Nightmare, the Oracle Guild Master had already stopped streaming instances. You’re lucky; besides me, few know he’s the Captain.”
He flashed his profiteer smile again. “So, I’m doubling the fee for this info.”
Wen Jianyan: “…Fine.”
Figaro beamed. “Generous boss.”
Wen Jianyan pressed on: “Has anyone seen him? The second or third on the leaderboard?”
“Dan Zhu probably hasn’t; she entered around the same time as me,” Figaro thought for a moment. “Yelin might have, but I’m not sure, so I won’t charge you for that.”
Chatting as they walked, they reached the top of the stairs.
The second floor.
Unlike the dim stairway, this floor was brilliantly lit, resembling a luxurious private salon. Compared to the madness below, the silence here was absolute; one could almost hear their own heartbeat.
Wen Jianyan’s gaze landed on a corner of the salon where a massive gambling table stood. Unlike the usual deep green felt, the surface of this table was a rich, blood-like red.
“One last question.” Wen Jianyan turned to Figaro. “Why was the table red when you finished your game downstairs earlier?”
“For the sake of your frequent patronage, I’ll give you this answer for free,” Figaro said. “Have you been to the underground casino?”
Wen Jianyan: “Yes.”
Figaro: “Then you’ve seen the chips down there?”
Wen Jianyan: “Seen them, yes, but I don’t know the exchange rate.”
“The chips in the underground casino have different values from those above,” Figaro explained. “Green chips represent one thousand, five thousand, and ten thousand points. Gold chips are one hundred thousand points. Red chips are one million points.”
Wen Jianyan was startled. He had guessed the underground chips were worth more, but not this much. Recalling the chips Dan Zhu had given him to play with… after a quick calculation, Wen Jianyan shuddered.
Had he lost over a million damn points in the underground casino?!
Ugh, I feel sick.
“Red chips are the highest value and the rarest,” Figaro continued. “Once a red chip appears on a table, it means the game has entered the ‘next level.’ The rules change, the dealer switches to one of Mesvis’s core dealers, and the definition of the game expands.”
Wen Jianyan: “Definition expands?”
“It means you can bet on anything,” Figaro said. “Even whether the next person to walk in is male or female, or if they step in with their left or right foot.”
“Of course…” Figaro’s tone shifted, “If you’re caught cheating in such a game, the price is terrifying. As far as I know, no one has dared to bear it yet.”
“Thanks, I understand.” Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and nodded.
Suddenly, a surprised voice came from behind: “Ah, it’s you.”
Wen Jianyan turned around. A man in a black tailcoat approached, his face extremely pale. Though polite, a lingering aura of death surrounded him. It was Carl Bell, the auctioneer from the negative seventh floor and, as Figaro said, the manager of the underground auction.
“Good evening, Carl,” Figaro tipped his hat.
“Good evening,” Carl Bell nodded. “The auction begins formally at 8 PM the day after tomorrow. The usual for you?”
“Of course,” Figaro smiled slightly. “I trust you’ll be satisfied with what I brought this time.”
After a brief exchange, Carl Bell turned to Wen Jianyan, maintaining his consistent, gentle, and humble demeanor. “And you, honored guest, how may I assist you?”
It was hard to imagine he was one of the ship’s three managers.
Wen Jianyan: “I want to see the casino manager, Mesvis.”
“Is that so,” Carl Bell looked surprised but quickly regained his composure, smiling. “Very well, please follow me.”
He nodded goodbye to Figaro, then turned and led Wen Jianyan deeper into the second floor.
Having brought Wen Jianyan to the second floor, Figaro considered his commission complete. He gave a dramatic bow and smiled a farewell: “I’ll send you the bill. Looking forward to our next collaboration.”
*
After bidding farewell to Figaro, Wen Jianyan followed Carl Bell deeper into the second floor. As he walked, he subtly observed his surroundings.
To the left was a massive floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the vast casino below. Rows of tables were neatly arranged, surrounded by desire-drunk gamblers, all under the ivory spiral dome. The bright lights passed through the glass unhindered, revealing everything.
From this vantage point, the people on the second floor were high above, while the gamblers caught in the vortex were like ants in the dust. Everything happening below was under their control.
If he remembered correctly… further ahead should be the location of that screen.
Wen Jianyan looked toward the spot in his memory. Sure enough, the window was interrupted by a wall, on which hung a screen identical in size to the one outside, but facing inward.
The massive screen was divided into smaller ones, each displaying a gambling table and an ongoing game. Wen Jianyan was secretly alarmed. He hadn’t seen any surveillance cameras downstairs, yet those invisible eyes were everywhere.
In front of the screen sat a huge, luxurious platinum-gold sofa arranged in a large circle. In the center sat a figure with their back to them.
Wen Jianyan paused.
As if confirming his guess, Carl Bell spoke: “Mesvis.”
The figure moved and turned around. It was a pale face identical to Carl Bell’s, but with eerie eyes that were different from a normal person’s—almost entirely black pupil, with very little white.
“What? Is there something?”
Though Mesvis spoke to Carl Bell, his eyes locked precisely onto Wen Jianyan behind him. The moment their gazes met, Wen Jianyan felt a chill, the hair on his back standing up as an intense feeling of being scrutinized rose instinctively.
“A VIP from downstairs wants to chat with you,” Carl Bell said, turning to Wen Jianyan with his polite demeanor. “This is Mr. Mesvis, the casino manager.”
“Good evening,” Wen Jianyan stepped forward with a smile. “It’s an honor to finally communicate with you face-to-face.”
Mesvis stared at him with those nearly black eyes, saying nothing.
“Impressive,” Mesvis finally spoke slowly.
Wen Jianyan let the other scrutinize him, hiding all emotional fluctuations.
“The higher-ups asked me to stop your sniffing around downstairs. I thought it was absurd at the time—what could an ordinary person sniff out?” Mesvis said. “But seeing you standing here… it seems I was wrong.”
So, the one who asked him to leave the Blackjack table was indeed Mesvis, the casino manager, not the Nightmare. This aligned with Wen Jianyan’s suspicion.
“Since you’ve found your way here, I might as well hear your request,” Mesvis raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Several waiters appeared from the shadows like ghosts, startling Wen Jianyan—he hadn’t noticed them at all. One waiter poured an amber liquid into a glass and handed it to him.
Wen Jianyan paused, then took the glass.
“I know the Lucky Cruise Ship is currently on a course of no return, and the points contributed by gamblers fuel the ship,” Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, staring unblinkingly at Mesvis. “So, my request is simple.”
“—Gamble with me.”
“…Oh?” Mesvis clearly hadn’t expected this answer, slowly raising an eyebrow. “Ah, I see. You want to single-handedly even the score?”
Realizing something, Mesvis laughed.
Wen Jianyan: “You guessed right.”
“You can’t do it,” Mesvis leaned back lazily on the sofa, shaking his head. “Do you know what the deficit is?”
Wen Jianyan: “You tell me.”
“One billion.”
Even though he had guessed the difference between the house and the players was terrifying, hearing the actual number made Wen Jianyan’s heart sink.
Mesvis smiled greedily. “And how many chips do you have?”
He scrutinized Wen Jianyan with those all-pupil eyes. In that instant, the feeling of being seen through returned. Mesvis chuckled with unconcealed contempt: “Heh, only one hundred and fifty million.”
True, Wen Jianyan currently has one hundred and fifty million points in his account. For an anchor who had only cleared eight instances, this was an unimaginable fortune, accumulated from eight platinum instances (including multiple S and one SS rank), Nightmare buffs, and massive audience tips.
His actual ranking points were even higher, but while he earned a lot, he spent a lot too. Unlocking skins in the system shop for higher-level instances costs a fortune—just the [Yuying Comprehensive University] skin costs nearly ten million. If Nightmare hadn’t removed the “Contract Termination Ticket” from his shop, he could have bought his freedom long ago.
Unfortunately… compared to the casino’s massive trade surplus, an individual’s savings were frail and powerless.
“But proposing such a thing shows commendable courage,” Mesvis said. “As a reward, I’ll grant you the privilege of accessing the second floor.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, you can g—”
“You were able to guess from upstairs that I intended to use Blackjack for something and had the judgment to stop it.” Wen Jianyan suddenly stepped forward, interrupting him. Under the overly bright lights, his eyes appeared extremely pale, with a texture like hard candy.
“I assume you must be a seasoned gambler yourself?”
Mesvis paused and looked at him again.
“In that case, you should know what ‘backing’ means.” Wen Jianyan curled his lips into a smile.
Backing. A term unique to casinos. A gambler can choose to “back” their bet, adding leverage under the table to increase the stakes. Even a capped game can turn into a terrifying gamble through backing.
Mesvis narrowed his eyes at Wen Jianyan and spoke slowly: “…Do you know what you’re saying?”
Wen Jianyan: “Of course.”
He took another step forward, speaking lightly. “Win, win ten times. Lose, lose ten times.”
“I only have one hundred and fifty million in chips right now,” Wen Jianyan stepped forward unhurriedly, arriving in front of the sofa without realizing it. “But with leverage, those chips become one point five billion.”
He pressed his hands onto the platinum-gold sofa, the leather sinking under his palms to form spiderweb-like creases. Looking down from above at the true controller of the casino, Wen Jianyan smiled:
“A one point five billion gamble—are you willing to play with me?”
The casino lights pierced through the massive window, fully exposing the young man’s face to the glare, revealing every nuance in his eyes.
It was a look only a desperate gambler would have.
Greedy, arrogant, and fiercely exposed.
ele é meu protagonista e eu o amo, mas tenho muito medo dele