Wager

Office Life and Fin's Change

Ren sat at his desk, the soft hum of computers filling the office air. The scent of coffee lingered as his coworkers typed away, immersed in their tasks. The rhythm of office life was becoming routine for him, yet something felt off lately. His senpai, Fin, was no longer the same dependable, unshakable figure he used to be. The man who once carried an air of confidence and control now seemed exhausted, distant.

At first, Ren brushed it off as work stress, but he started noticing the subtle signs—Fin's sluggish movements, the occasional absentminded stare, the way he rubbed his temples after long nights.

"Maybe he's got something heavy on his mind…" Ren muttered to himself, spinning his pen between his fingers.

What Ren didn't know was that Fin had been training relentlessly in Ram Online, preparing for the highly anticipated Level 90 and below PvP tournament.

Meanwhile, Ren found himself reevaluating his own commitment to the game. His weekly streams had been getting shorter, but his stats and popularity remained at their peak. He had been balancing his real-life obligations, yet part of him itched to return to playing more seriously.

A buzz from his phone caught his attention. A group chat notification. Someone had posted a link to a trending video circulating within their gaming community.

"Some level 80 Swordsman is breaking records in mid-level PvP arenas. 50 wins, 3 losses," someone commented.

Ren smirked. 50-3? If I had an alt account, I wouldn't forgive myself if I lost three out of fifty.

He clicked the link, but before watching, his mind drifted to an earlier time—back when Ram Online wasn't as big as it was now, back when he was just a nameless Thief trying to carve his place in the game.

Flashback: The Struggle to Play More

Teenage Ren stared at his monitor, his dimly lit room reflecting the neon blue glow of his screen. He was still in high school back then, yet his obsession with Ram Online was all-consuming. He did whatever it took to free up time to play—skipping classes, making excuses to avoid family obligations, even finding ways to monetize his gameplay.

Money was tight. Unlike the rich kids who could drop money on in-game currency, Ren had to be creative. That was when he discovered the potential of the Steal skill. At first, it was just another gimmick—stealing small in-game items from mobs and low-level players. But one day, he realized something: Steal didn't just take trash items. If timed correctly, it could even take rare loot before others had the chance to pick it up.

One night, he tested his theory in a boss raid. The moment the boss dropped it's stance, he timed his Steal skill and snatched a rare item before anyone could react.

[System Message: You have successfully stolen Phantom Fang Dagger.]

His heart pounded. That dagger was worth enough in-game currency to keep him afloat for weeks. From that moment on, he became an expert at exploiting the mechanic, finding ways to turn stolen loot into real money.

But simply making money wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted to prove himself.

The Underground PvP Scene

Before Ram Online hit mainstream popularity, there was a time when the game had no official esports tournaments. The only real competition happened underground—where players bet on PvP matches in hidden, unofficial arenas. Gambling on fights wasn't explicitly against the rules yet, and for Ren, it was an opportunity.

At first, he was just a bettor. He studied fighters, analyzed strategies, and placed bets carefully. But soon, he realized something—he could make even more money if he fought and bet on himself.

That was how "Crowd" became a name whispered in the underground PvP circles.

His success allowed him to move out of his family home into a small apartment. He upgraded his gaming setup. He built a name for himself. And then, one day, he got the opportunity of a lifetime—facing the reigning number-one Archer in a high-stakes match.

The Match That Changed Everything

The air was electric in the underground arena chat. Betting pools were buzzing. His opponent? Apple, the undisputed best level 80 Archer.

The odds? 2 to 10 in her favor.

Ren had gone all in. He sold his motorcycle—his only means of travel. He borrowed money from friends. He bet everything he had on himself.

And he wasn't the only one betting. The entire underground PvP scene saw this as easy money. Who would put faith in an unknown Thief going up against a player with godlike mechanics?

But before Ren's fight, he watched Apple's semifinal match against another Thief—a matchup theoretically in the Thief's favor.

The arena was set. The opponent activated Invisible, disappearing from sight for a full three seconds.

Apple smirked, unfazed.

Three… two… one…

Whoosh!

With uncanny precision, she blocked the Thief's dagger with her small knife.

"Yappari," she murmured. "I knew it. Why do you guys always go for the throat?"

Before the Thief could react, she delivered a swift kick to his chest, flipping backward midair. In one fluid motion, she fired three arrows.

One to the forehead. One to the heart. One to the groin.

The match was over in ten seconds.

The crowd erupted in disbelief.

Ren leaned forward, watching Apple's with keen interest.

"This girl…" he muttered, a grin forming on his lips. "She's not so shabby."

And with that, he prepared himself for his match.

The Underground Arena - A Battlefield of Dreams

The underground arena was alive with energy. Rows of makeshift seats, hastily arranged around the dimly lit battlefield, were filled with eager spectators. Some leaned forward with anticipation, while others clutched betting slips in sweaty palms. The air smelled of sweat, dust, and the faint scent of burnt mana from previous battles. A single large, circular light fixture flickered above the arena, casting ominous shadows that danced on the stone walls. The hum of murmurs, laughter, and occasional cheers filled the space, creating a symphony of excitement.

Ren stepped into the waiting area, rolling his shoulders. The cold steel of his daggers pressed reassuringly against his sides. He glanced at the betting board; his odds were decent, but Apple's name towered above the rest. His friends were gathered nearby, their voices a mix of encouragement and hesitation.

"I'd bet for you, Ren, against anyone in the arena… except for Apple," one of them admitted, shaking his head.

"You know we love you, man, but I ain't losing money today."

"Good luck, bro! Break a leg… and a neck, break everything!" another added with a grin.

Ren smirked. "You guys would get rich faster if you bet on me all the time… even against this Apple girl. Well, she will be next."

His confidence was unwavering, but deep inside, he knew this would be his toughest challenge yet. He had watched Apple fight. She was not just skilled—she was something else entirely.

Semifinal Match: Ren vs. The Magician

Ren's opponent stepped forward—a magician, draped in dark violet robes embroidered with golden runes. His staff gleamed under the dim lighting, and a cocky smirk played on his lips. Magicians typically held the advantage over Thieves. With the skill Sight, they could reveal invisible enemies, negating a Thief's primary strength.

The magician twirled his staff and chuckled. "You thieves are all the same. Hide, stab, run. It's boring, really."

Ren tilted his head. "Hide? Nah."

The announcer raised his hand, and the crowd hushed in anticipation. A tense silence hung in the air, only disturbed by the occasional shuffle of feet. Then—

Ding!

The match began.

Instead of vanishing into the shadows like the magician expected, Ren charged straight at him. The sudden aggression caught his opponent off guard, but he recovered quickly, slamming his staff onto the ground.

"Safety Wall!" he yelled.

A translucent, shimmering barrier sprang up between them. Safety Wall was a Magician's strongest defense, capable of blocking up to ten melee attacks. The magician smirked, believing himself untouchable.

But Ren was already in motion. He reached into his belt and pulled out a handful of iron spikes. With a swift flick of his wrist, he sent them flying. Each spike struck the barrier, one after another.

One. Two. Three. Four.

The crowd gasped as the magical wall flickered violently.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

The moment the final spike hit, Safety Wall shattered into glimmering shards of magic, fading into nothingness.

The magician's face twisted in shock. "What the hell did you do? Are you a cheater?"

Ren grinned. "Nope. Just smarter than you."

He closed the distance in a blur, his daggers gleaming under the arena lights. The magician raised his staff, but it was too late. A twelve-strike combo commenced.

First strike—shoulder.

Second strike—abdomen.

Third—leg.

By the fourth, the magician's health bar was already empty. But Ren wasn't done. He finished the entire combo out of sheer principle. The magician's body collapsed to the floor, motionless.

For a second, silence.

Then the crowd exploded into cheers.

"That was merciless!" someone shouted.

"I've never seen a Safety Wall vanish like that! What did he do?"

Ren sheathed his daggers and walked off, rolling his neck. "That was fun."

Little did he know, he had just redefined the meta for fighting Magicians.

Finals Build-Up: The Calm Before the Storm

Ren wiped the sweat from his brow as he leaned against the arena's stone wall. His friends surrounded him, excitement buzzing in the air.

"You're insane, man."

"I'm telling you, bet on me." Ren chuckled, but his mind was already shifting to the finals.

Meanwhile, across the waiting area, Apple stood in a dimly lit corner, conversing with a mysterious figure. He wore a scarf that covered most of his face, only his piercing eyes visible. The dim light caught the outline of a coffin tattoo on the back of his ear.

Apple nodded as the man spoke in hushed tones. There was something unsettling about him—his presence alone carried an aura of quiet menace. Who was he?

Finals: Ren vs. Apple Begins

The announcer's voice echoed through the underground arena, calling the two finalists forward. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating.

Ren stepped into the arena, eyes locked onto his opponent.

Apple was already waiting, arms crossed, her bow slung casually over her back. Her silver hair shimmered under the arena lights. She tilted her head, amusement dancing in her sharp eyes.

"Oh, another Thief?" she mused, a playful smirk forming on her lips. "Do you know that I like Thieves?"

Her tone was mocking, teasing—but there was something in her gaze that made Ren wary. She wasn't just confident. She was dangerous.

The crowd erupted into cheers and chants, their voices merging into a chaotic roar. The underground arena had never felt so alive.

Ren took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs. He tightened his grip on his daggers, feeling the familiar weight in his hands.

The bell rang.

The match had begun.