Chapter 447: Bet Everything on Me (Part One)

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"So that's how it is. Got it."

George raised an eyebrow, instantly understanding Feng Xingtong's good intentions.

But honestly, he didn't care about any of it.

He'd chosen to remain cautious in this unfamiliar world, deliberately hiding his strength and making sure his avatar didn't seem out of place.

But that didn't mean he was afraid of exposing his power.

The worst-case scenario? He reveals his true strength, attracts the attention of someone even stronger, and this avatar gets destroyed.

But for him, that would just mean the loss of one avatar—he had plenty more, and many more to come in the future.

So hiding his power was simply a precaution—not a necessity. If someone tried to provoke him, he wouldn't hesitate to reveal a bit more strength and handle it directly.

If something irritated him, he'd deal with it head-on. No need to suppress himself.

At least so far, he hadn't encountered anything that truly threatened him.

"But if you're willing to join our Tianxia Society," Feng Xingtong offered with a glint in his eye, "then you wouldn't have to worry at all. Fight as you like. Even if you beat someone from the Wang family, they wouldn't dare touch you."

He had already learned that Jin Baobao had taken down three opponents in one move during his match. A rogue cultivator with that level of power at his age was definitely worth investing in.

"I haven't thought about that yet. But if I ever do consider it, Tianxia Society will be my first choice."

George didn't shut the door completely. After all, he was quite interested in their Spirit Summoning and Commanding technique.

Just then, Huang Ming returned with his own draw.

"Old Huang, who's your opponent?"

"Xiao Xiao."

Huang Ming opened his slip.

"He can blast people's souls out of their bodies. But you can release your Yang Spirit, so you've got nothing to worry about."

Xiao Xiao's Hum-Ha Technique versus Huang Ming's Yang Spirit projection—neither had a clear advantage. The match would depend on improvisation and individual cultivation.

"How do you know so much about him?" Huang Ming asked, surprised.

George had been with him all afternoon, and they hadn't seen Xiao Xiao's match. So how did George know so much?

"Feng Xingtong told me."

George replied casually.

Feng Xingtong scratched his head. "Did I? I don't remember that…"

"Zhang Chulan and Baobao are here."

George quickly changed the topic.

"Zhang Chulan, Baobao, who did you draw?"

Feng Xingtong immediately leaned over.

Then, with a schadenfreude smile, he said:

"Zhang Chulan, you're screwed. You drew the Green Talisman God—Dan Shitong."

"Green Talisman God?"

Zhang Chulan clearly had no idea who that was.

Feng Xingtong explained:

"His family has a secret ancestral talisman technique, specializing in sealing opponents' meridians. Unlike normal talismans that require lots of prep work, theirs works instantly. Hard to guard against."

"Ye Xing, Ji Yun—the day's getting late. Please help everyone settle into their rooms."

At that moment, Zhang Lingyu, standing at the front in his Daoist robe, gave instructions to two middle-aged Daoists beside him.

"Yes, Junior Uncle!"

The two Daoists saluted him and then addressed the contestants:

"Everyone, please come with us."

"Let's go."

George and Huang Ming followed the crowd toward the lodging area at the back of the mountain.

"Old Jin, wanna place a bet? I've got odds running—I opened a betting pool. Might make a quick buck."

Just a few steps in, a chubby guy walked up, holding a tablet.

George wasn't surprised. He took the tablet from him.

"Let me take a look first."

Before the matches, he'd sent out three thought projections to observe the other three arenas.

To better understand the techniques and Daoist arts of different sects, he'd also found "commentators" like Feng Xingtong.

One of them was this chubby guy named Zang Long—an expert in gathering intel.

The other two were Zhi Jinhua and Bai Shixue.

"When did he meet all these people? Was it during my match?"

Seeing George making new friends again, Huang Ming was once more puzzled.

It wasn't the first time. Back when they'd just gathered here, several contestants—whom Huang Ming didn't know—had greeted George like an old friend.

But George had been with him the entire time… except during his own match.

"Forty-to-one odds."

George looked at the screen and saw his own name listed near the bottom.

No surprise. The odds were for who would come in first overall. Even though he defeated three contestants in the first round, they were all weak rogue cultivators—nothing impressive.

The top contenders, all with one-to-one odds, were Zhang Lingyu, Zhuge Qing, Feng Shayan, Lu Linglong, and Jia Zhengliang.

Wang Bing was listed at ten-to-one. So was Feng Xingtong. Huang Ming was at twenty-to-one, Feng Baobao at thirty-to-one, and Zhang Chulan was at one hundred-to-one.

"Forget it. I won't bet."

His avatar wasn't short on cash. As a bona fide rich second-generation, his bank account had over ten million in accumulated pocket money—gifts from his father, mother, and occasionally his sister.

But because he'd spent most of his time in the Flamel Academy studying magic, he hardly used it.

"Old Huang, maybe you should try placing a bet."

George handed the tablet to Huang Ming.

Huang Ming took a look and then shook his head.

"Forget it. I've only got a bit of allowance. If I lose, I'll have nothing left."

Baiyun Temple wasn't as wealthy as Longhu Mountain. All his savings over the years amounted to less than 3,000 yuan. He wasn't willing to risk it.

George leaned over and whispered, "Old Huang, trust me—bet it all on me."

"Old Jin… Bet it all on you?"

Huang Ming's eyes widened.

He was very self-aware—he knew he couldn't take first place. And even if George had some hidden strength… was it really enough?

"Relax. I've got a trump card. If I win, it's all yours. If I lose, I'll cover it."

George gave a confident wink.

He was going to win the Tongtian Talisman—so that meant taking first place for sure.

Huang Ming was his first friend in this world. Handing him money directly wouldn't fly, but helping him win some through betting—now that was a nice way to return the favor.

"If you lose, I'll consider it your treat. But Old Jin, you better win. That's all I've got!"

Seeing George wasn't joking, Huang Ming hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and agreed. He pulled out his phone and transferred 3,000 yuan to Zang Long.

Truth be told, it wasn't entirely a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Since meeting George, they'd sparred more than once. Although the matches always ended in a draw, Huang Ming had sensed something odd.

George always held back just enough. Even their senior brothers had said George's strength wasn't so simple.

And George wasn't the type to brag. So maybe… just maybe… he really did have a shot.

Three thousand yuan—if he won, that would turn into 120,000. Then he could buy whatever he wanted.

He'd been wanting a new phone for a while now. His senior brother just wouldn't buy him one.

(End of Chapter)