The Steward Demonic Emperor

Chapter 1202: Gambling Stage

Proofreader: Papatonks

“Qingcheng? Did you find her?”

Luo Yunchang heard Zhuo Fan shouting and flinched, “Did I hear right? Is she from Ruby Cloud Sect?”

Zhuo Fan nodded and eased a long breath, “Yes, it’s truly unfortunate that she is so close to Ruby Cloud Sect. It’s sure to make things worse at one point.”

“T-then congratulations…”

Li Jingtian muttered, looking strained. Zhuo Fan cared not, saying, “Elder Li, there’s something strange about the secrecy around Qingcheng in Ruby Cloud Sect. Look into it, as well as what events happened a hundred years ago. I have a feeling that hag is setting her up for something.” 

“Sure, Steward Zhuo, I’ll go check it out later.”

“Thanks.”

Zhuo Fan frowned, his mind elsewhere.

The city lord once again announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, as well as seniors, the first item found an owner but you needn’t fret, for our second item is far more precious. Bring it in…”

“Thirty million!”

The city lord flinched, looking again at the Luo clan booth with a twitchy eye, “S-sir, I’ve yet to call out the starting price…”

“Who cares, I just gotta have it!”

Boom!

The stands were taken by storm once more. The first item’s only clue to its value was the city lord’s base price, but now that was shot out the window, placing a sky-high bid off the bat regardless if it was junk or diamonds. Though it would be such a shame for those thirty million sacred stones if it ended up being a bust.

Thinking about it from a different angle.

[What shame would there be if they’re filthy rich? The real question is, just how loaded are they to burn so much money?]

The focus of the gathering has changed from betting, to figuring out the mystery behind the Luo clan.

[Where did they come from?]

The city lord sighed, but stuck to his role, calling it thrice, “Anyone else? Anyone at all? Someone?”

Everyone was silent. Knowing nothing about that thing on the stage, and already having a thirty million bid on it, no one would be insane to take such unwarranted risk.

“The item goes to the Luo clan!”

The city lord slammed his gavel, “What is it, you might ask? Let us see…” 

“Give it to young miss Qingcheng from Ruby Cloud Sect, thanks!”

Zhuo Fan cut him off, making the city lord stumble. He gave a powerless and strained sigh as he said, “Sir, you don’t even wish to know what you bought?”

“No, since everything will be delivered to young miss Qingcheng!” Zhuo Fan’s tone was irreproachable.

The city lord gave a casual wave, sending the attendant with the item. Everyone watched as the unknown item moved away.

This never happened once in the history of Mist City.

Ruby Cloud Sect’s group was dumbfounded. 

[Who’s Luo clan? Why are they just giving us stuff? They want to work their way into our good graces?]

[Yeah, that’s gotta be it. But why then are they sending it to just one person, the youngest disciple?]

That was what had these girls stumped.

So began an endless trail of unknown items sent to Chu Qingcheng with every outrageous bid from Zhuo Fan before the city lord ever got to rile up the crowd.

Chu Qingcheng had to do nothing and found herself swimming in treasures with a blank look.

As for the people coming here for the thrill of betting, they were left powerless against such moneybags, turning into props to make him look good.

Since he won all the items with an impossible price, the others had nothing on him. It was a sad day for any gambler. A dreamer, or a plain addict, it mattered not the heavy loss or the crushing defeat, but being unable to bet!

The city lord felt the worst of it by far.

With every dreaded call from Zhuo Fan, an item was bought without even being able to get a word in. The only dignity as host remaining was to call the next item.

It was a sad sad day for him.

Now that all the items were gone, it was city lord’s time to shine once more, “With the commodities over, we would first like to thank our honored Luo clan for being our greatest investor. The next item shall be the greatest the city has ever seen. The Eight Emperors of the Sacred Domain shall now compete over our last item, Nether Sea map. Others are welcome to join, so long as you can stomach it and have the strength to back it, ha-ha-ha.” 

[Eight Emperors?]

The tired or bored gamblers thought the last item might be their time to shine. They were happy chasing the thrill even if it meant losing the shirt off their backs.

Hearing Eight Emperors being mentioned, however, woke them up on the spot.

[You kidding me? Bet with the Eight Emperors? I’m too young to die!]

Not a sound was made in the entire hall, with the audience feeling a chill down their backs. The city lord gave them a cold smile, then smirked at the Luo clan’s booth.

[You can have the world’s wealth in your pocket, but not even you have the gall to challenge these powerhouses.]

“Eight Emperors representatives, this is a request from the Gambling Emperor. Please present your bids on the table so that the winner can be declared without any hard feelings. Bring chairs and a table!”

Someone brought a large table and seven seats. The city lord smiled, being the first to face it and take out a gray map to display it on the table.

The people in the booths huffed and made their way out, including Mei Sangu’s group, each looking impressive.

The audience had their first glimpse of real power.

“What does the Gambling Emperor intend with this? Give his town a show?”

“Yeah, as each of us are people of repute, why should we bother giving these people any consideration by showing our competition? Does the Gambling Emperor want to inflate his image? Are you planning on leading all of the other Emperor representatives by the nose?” 

Curses and sneers sounded at the table as each representative took their seats, with their people standing behind.

The city lord smiled, “People, since you came to Gambling Town, you must gather around the betting table. The Nether Sea map can’t just be given, since the Gambling Emperor has been wanting the Nether Sovereign’s seat of enlightenment as well.”

“Why invite us here for…”

“Betting!”

The city lord’s eyes shone, showing a sinister smile, “We can’t sell it to you, but we can lose it as long as you have the means to win it.”

Mei Sangu squinted and huffed, “Fine, and how do we play?”

“I’m sure the common games of chance are beneath such fine people, so we’ll be using riddles. Guessing right makes you the winner. In case of a draw, the house wins.”

The city lord smirked.

[Riddle?]

The seven people nodded, “Fine!”

“Then let the games begin!”

“Wait!”

To the shock of everyone in there, a shout came from the Luo clan booth.

“Add another seat. The Luo clan is joining!”

[What?!]

The crowd stirred.

[The Luo clan is competing with the Eight Emperors? Is it suicidal? Or do they have backing?]

The representatives themselves were taken aback, each trying to guess their history. With such nerves of steel, they had to be something else to join such a bet.

Did they represent Sacred Mountain?

The city lord smiled, “Bring another seat. There’s plenty of room around the betting table!” 

One empty chair appeared on the side of the large table, with everyone fixed on it with strange gazes.

The Luo clan walked out of their booth and made their way down.

Chu Qingcheng and Ruby Cloud Sect’s girls gasped, “You? What are you doing here?”

“As part of the Luo clan, it’s only natural that I follow young miss. Something wrong?” Zhuo Fan beamed, walking in front. His mysterious manner gave others no means of reading him…