Chapter 24 Bethcord

　　A man quickly got out of the passenger seat of the sedan, opened the door behind him, and put up another umbrella. It was then that an old man drilled out of the car. His short silver hair stood up at the roots, and his square face was solemn. A circle of beard on his chin was carefully groomed, adding a bit of majesty to him. Eyes stern, lips pursed, giving people the feeling of not being shy about words and smiles.

　　Despite being over sixty years old, his back was still straight, and this, together with his still quite strong physique, made him look at least ten years younger.

　　"Master, this way." The umbrella-wielding butler said softly.

　　The silver-haired old man nodded and walked quietly into the building with the butler. Inside the building's lobby, an obese man greeted him and rubbed his hands together, "Welcome, Mr. Horn. I didn't expect you to come to this betting event, what a surprise."

　　"Alstair, if you don't lose some weight, your little cardiovascular is going to burst." The old man, Horn, said indifferently.

　　Fatty Alstair took out a handkerchief and wiped his sweat, "I'm just a small person, I labor and run around every day, how can I have time to take care of my body. Mr. Horn, this way please, the event is about to start."

　　Alstair, who had the appearance of a sales manager, led Horn and his butler towards a private elevator. Despite his unimpressive appearance, this man was the chairman of the organizing committee of the Ring of Death, and the host of every Ring of Death for the past ten years, as well as holding the position of the Federation's Secretary of Finance in his body. For such a man, there weren't many guests who needed to be greeted by him personally.

　　Not much really.

　　The private elevator went straight to the top floor, and when the elevator doors opened, it was not a training hall with several functions, but a six hundred square meter banquet hall. In terms of the specifications of a banquet hall, the area here was not the largest, but the decorations were first-class. From the statue of David at the entrance, to the colorful Persian carpet; from the dome decorated with stained glass with the picture of flaming angels, to the four Corinthian stone pillars that served as both load-bearing and partition. All these decorative techniques make the banquet hall have a kind of introverted luxury, which is fully in line with the popular aesthetics of the aristocrats nowadays.

　　The butler handed the umbrella over to the attendant, and Lord Horn of Alstair made his way to a relatively quiet corner. The so-called betting event had not yet begun, and in the light of the hall, people gathered in twos and threes to talk in hushed tones or in loud voices. No one noticed that there was an extra Horn in the hall, until a lady unintentionally glanced at it, and then she lost her voice and whispered, "Isn't that Mr. Horn of Bethcord?"

　　Then quickly piled on a smile and walked over with the most elegant posture. But before he could even get close to Horn, he had the butler stop him, "I'm sorry, ma'am. My lord wishes to be left in peace and solitude."

　　An unnatural smile appeared on the woman's face, and she retreated with some reluctance and a couple moments of anger. The next several men wanted to come forward to talk, but they were all stopped by the butler. The people who could stand in this banquet hall today were also dignitaries in Babylon. On a normal day, other people were too eager to flatter them, and they would rarely be rejected.

　　But when they were rejected by Horn, they could only dare to be angry, and more than anything else, they were bitterly smiling and helpless.

　　In Babylon's high society, although they are all referred to as the aristocracy. But the nobility is only a generalized division, in this circle, there is a much harsher division. Ordinary people seldom know, in the so-called nobility above, there is also the classification of the mansion, the family and the warlord. These three, none of them are operating for hundreds of years, the foundation of the strong family, they are considered to be the real aristocrats.

　　Beskold family is precisely one of the famous warlords, the famous warlords, although not as noble as the mansion family, but and the ordinary nobles between there has been an insurmountable gap. What's more, the Bethcote is not an ordinary warlord. After all, ten years ago, this family was still ranked among the families, only because of a series of changes, coupled with the emergence of another family, slipped from the ranking of the families into the name of the valve.

　　That family, named Alexander!

　　At that moment, the lights of the ballroom suddenly dimmed, and then the beam of the spotlight focused on the small stage at the front of the hall. Alstair stood on the stage like a TV host and coughed, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Let's just keep this short and sweet, or this damn light is going to burn a layer of oil off of me, and maybe it's true what an old friend said, Alstair should lose some weight."

　　A good-natured light laugh resounded from under the stage, and after slightly adjusting the atmosphere in the hall with a witty opening speech, Alstair then said, "As you all can see, the Ring of Death began in both, and the participating teenagers have gone through two weeks of assessment. For all of you, their current ranking scores should have some reference value, so as usual, the guessing and betting event will be held today, so please enjoy this once every two years grand revelry."

　　Alstair snapped his fingers, and the curtain of the stage behind him pulled back to reveal a large screen on. The first thing shown on the screen was the teenager at the bottom of the rankings, and Alstair smiled and stepped down from the stage, leaving the other hosts in charge of briefly introducing the teenagers competing this time to the nobles in the hall to make it easier for them to better understand their favorite betting targets.

　　The betting and wagering event is one of the entertainment programs attached to the Ring of Death and is open to the entire population of the floating island of Babylon, which is, to put it bluntly, a national betting event. The bookmaker behind the scenes is of course the federal government, which will stimulate people's enthusiasm even further and serve as a kind of interaction. And, of course, the participating teenagers can profit from it.

　　For each teenager that is backed, they will be able to take a 1% cut of the total amount wagered. Their cut will be given out in the form of supplies in order to help them gain a more favorable position in the competition. It is safe to say that quizzing is one of the main reasons that contributes to Babylon's residents being so passionate about Death Race, as well as being a major revenue generator for the federal government.

　　Alstair walked up next to Horn, he was probably the only one in the ballroom who was qualified to sit near Horn. Alstair called for the waiters and had them serve fine wine. After sharing a drink with Horn, the party said, "It seems that there are targets of Mr. Horn's choice among the little ones in this class?"

　　Horn smiled and nodded, and Alstair couldn't help but say, "I wonder which brat Mr. Horn has his eye on?"

　　"Stay and you'll see." Horn spared the words and shut his mouth when he finished.

　　By this time, the host on the stage had already briefly gone over the information of the 21 teenagers before announcing that bets would begin to be accepted. Just as the others were still calculating the number of investments with their corresponding returns, Horn glanced faintly at the butler. The butler instantly understood and raised his hand to softly say, "We're voting for one ton of top-grade platinum for Allen's player."

　　Next to him, Artax's expression stiffened, then he shook his head and said, "So it's Allen that Mr. Horn has his eyes on, he's good, but don't forget that he's currently ranked number one. This position, it's not very favorable."

　　Althaeus was telling the truth, the benefits of being ranked number one before the death ring were mixed, the good being the support of numerous supplies in order to maximize their strength before the game. The downside is also quite obvious, aside from the fact that they will be targeted, the top three ranked teens will have their coordinates announced to the other teens at the start of the game.

　　In previous years' death matches, there was no shortage of precedents of the top ranked being taken out by a group beating before they even entered the ring.

　　Generally speaking, it's safer to put your money on second or third place. But the top three don't pay much, so if you want to make a full house, sometimes the dark horse at the bottom of the rankings can be a surprise instead.

　　Horn said blandly, "I have faith in him."

　　Alstair nodded towards the moderator, so Allen's avatar suddenly had an additional ten million federal dollars in bets, which was equivalent to the market value of a ton of platinum. This figure would be released in real time to the government's public trust platforms throughout Babylon, and all bettors would be able to immediately see the changes in all the teenagers' bets.

　　The other nobles in the banquet hall were shocked by Bethcord's generous offer, after all, ten million federal dollars was not a small amount. There was a sudden clap of applause, and the crowd looked back as several men entered through the door. In front of them was a middle-aged man, his brown hair fixed with hair wax and combed to the back of his head, and the position of each strand of hair was as if it had been carefully calculated, showing the quality of meticulousness.

　　His sea-blue eyes were full of smiles, but if you looked deeper, you would realize that the depths of this man's pupils were really a blue ice ocean. The suit from the hands of the master craftsman is well cut, from the collar to the cuffs of the workmanship to withstand the most critical scrutiny. A black and white striped tie, while playing a decorative role, also further emphasizes the owner's efficient and practical temperament.

　　Upon seeing this man, Alstair laughed bitterly over it. This man was none other than Horn's nemesis, the patriarch of the Alexander family, Main.

　　Mein said from afar, "Mr. Horn really has a big smile, and his hand is a ton of platinum. If people don't know, they would think that Bethcord is rich and powerful. But as I look at the recent annual statement, Bethcote's financial income has shrunk by 30% compared to the same period. Mr. Horn, this ton of platinum wouldn't be your old money, would it?"

　　Horn didn't move and said lightly, "No matter how bad Bethcord is, he's not as strong as some smug cranks with a little bit of luck."

　　Mein sat directly on the table between Horn's seats, which was actually a very impolite behavior, but he sat in a way that he took it for granted. Considering that the Alexander family had jumped from the bottom of the list to the newest family in just twenty years, no one dared to accuse Mein of wrongdoing. The reason was that the family's current status was inextricably linked to Maine, who had taken over the patriarch's burden back then.

　　"The Alexanders naturally can't compare to Mr. Horn's family heritage, but a little bit of money can still be taken." Main smiled and looked at the big screen, his eyes swept over the many teenagers' avatars, and finally said, "I see that kid named Anse is quite agreeable, so throw me two tons of platinum."

　　The hall was in an uproar. Anyone who wasn't blind could see that Main was provoking Horn.