Painting the Mists

152 Gambling

"So why exactly is now the best time to gamble?" Cha Ming said as they walked toward the entertainment district. The morning sun had just crept over the horizon. Its soothing light seeped into the cold paving stones that could only be found in this remote part of Songjing City.

"I'm not sure," Feng Ming said. "I just woke up at an ungodly hour with an itch to go gambling. You can't just ignore feelings like that—you need to go with the flow. Unless you had something better to do?"

Cha Ming thought of his gigantic backlog of formations but pushed them to the back of his mind—a single day of gambling would greatly improve his dire financial situation. More to the point, Feng Ming attracted trouble like honey did flies. Cha Ming needed to blow off some steam, and now was the perfect chance to do it.

Ten paces away from them, a restaurant was preparing for the busy day. Men and women folded dough and created tiny dumplings and buns for steaming. A little farther on, kitchen staff members were busy preparing ingredients: They precut vegetables and deboned meat while the chefs busily organized the menu for the morning rush. There were no customers to be seen, and most establishments were closed.

They traveled a little further before arriving near the inns and taverns. These, too, were closed. The tavern staff had not yet begun preparing like the restaurants, while the hotels ran on skeleton crews that awaited any impromptu orders from needy clients. This was also where Feng Ming veered them off to a nearby alley. The dim morning sunlight didn't reach these narrow streets; instead, they were brightly lit with spirit lamps.

Everywhere they looked, taverns were still brimming with rowdy customers. Pawn shops, money lenders, and other unsavory establishments waited for the constant trickle of desperate customers that came their way. They were situated right by the casinos, which rapidly gobbled up the small fortunes their clients accrued. The brothels were also there; their red spirit lamps beckoned invitingly to both the lonely and the depraved.

They soon entered a seedy tavern, which was brimming with customers despite the early hour. Dozens of sweaty gamblers were busy tossing away their fortunes while barmaids served them one drink after another. A customer would occasionally grope one of the barmaids, and her response to this lewd behavior depended less on the quality of the groper and more on the size of their wallet.

"Not again!" a man shouted. He and three men stood opposite a dealer. The pale man looked to the side of the room nervously. A cloaked figure beckoned, and the man hobbled to the table and began explaining himself in hushed whispers.

"I can win it back, I swear!" the man said. "Just give me another loan. I'm good for it. I still have my house and my business."

"And a wife and kids, and a healthy young body," the man said calmly. "I know your entire financial situation. I can give you a loan, but this time the interest will be double. You need to give me fifty percent every week, or I'll take you to the cleaners. Even your wife and two children won't be able to escape." A menacing light flickered from the man's eyes.

"Thank you," the pale man said, accepting a small pouch.

Cha Ming wasn't sure how much it contained, but it was likely enough to push the man to the brink.

"Let's go play Dragons," Feng Ming suddenly said, pulling Cha Ming's attention to a long table in the back. The table's dealer tossed him a chit, on which he placed a mid-grade spirit stone. Cha Ming followed his lead.

"In this game, you hope the guy keeps rolling the same numbers," Feng Ming explained. "If he rolls dragons, they eat up everything on the table."

"Shut up," an aged man said. He was half bald, and a long, thin scar ran down the side of his face. Despite his unkempt appearance, Cha Ming determined that the man had reached the peak of qi condensation and was only a single step away from establishing his foundation. This single step was also a monumental one that the man wouldn't take for the rest of his life.

"My apologies," Feng Ming said. It's rude to explain the rules at the table, Feng Ming sent. It's considered bad luck.

The same man tossed two dice that bounced off a soft board at the back of the table. They landed on a pair of threes. Their bet was shifted by the dealer, and while Feng Ming seemed to know what was going on, Cha Ming was completely lost. Spirit stones trickled to their side of the table as he placed the same bets as Feng Ming did. It wasn't long before everyone started copying Feng Ming.

"All right, time to switch tables," Feng Ming said when the dealer glared at them. They picked up their money and moved on to another game. It was a simple card game that reminded Cha Ming of blackjack. Like the dice before, the cards were built from a material that repelled soul force and qi.

Excited murmurs surrounded their table as their bets doubled continuously. Soon they were the only active table in the tavern, and some of the dealers stood nearby with their arms crossed while others were busy chatting with the moneylender.

This one's less a game of chance and more a game of strategy, Feng Ming sent as they approached a table with twelve players. The crowd followed them and sat down to join the excitement.

Each man had three hidden cards, and four additional cards were exposed in the middle over time. The game was remarkably like poker, and Cha Ming used his strong soul and sharp mind to quickly adapt what he knew to this new game. He used these superior skills in combination with Feng Ming's freakish luck to quintuple his holdings.

At first, the dealers didn't make a big deal when they moved over since they made money on the rake. Unfortunately, many dissatisfied customers left the tavern with accusations of cheating. Before long, a well-dressed foundation-establishment cultivator headed their way.

"Gentlemen, my name is Hu Fa," the man said. "Senior Ba wishes to meet with you. Would you be so kind as to follow?"

Seeing that the hand had just finished, Cha Ming shrugged. Feng Ming nodded, and they followed Hu Fa to a small table in the back. It was none other than the moneylender's table.

"Let me introduce myself," the black-robed man at the table said. "You may call me Senior Ba, and I am the manager of this establishment."

The fact that the moneylender was also the owner was very telling.

"Can we help you with something?" Cha Ming said.

"Most certainly," Senior Ba said. "It's a pleasure to meet both Master Du and Colonel Feng. I must say that the rumors of Colonel Feng's good luck aren't the least bit exaggerated. Therefore, I'll have to remind you both that there are limits on how lucky one can get in my tavern. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," Feng Ming said.

"Excellent," Senior Ba said. "Then please continue enjoying the free refreshments. Do let me know if there's anything else you need."

They soon left the premises with their winnings. "Well, that ended fast," Cha Ming said. "Thanks for the quick cash."

Feng Ming chuckled. "You thought I brought you here to make a small amount of money? Surely you know me better than that."

Cha Ming pondered for a bit before taking a stab at it. "Who's the owner of the casino?"

"Smart," Feng Ming said. "The owner, at least indirectly, is the crown prince. I trust my instincts, so if fate is willing to let me bleed him dry, he mustn't be up to any good."

"Then what next?" Cha Ming said.

"You'll see," Feng Ming replied with an impish smile. They soon arrived at another casino. This one was significantly better furnished than the last one, and each of the tables was managed by a beautiful female dealer. The drinks here were served by gorgeous foundation-establishment cultivators with low-cut dresses. They spoke with the customers and laughed at their jokes, all for the sake of keeping them and their money in the building for a few more guests.

We had to stop by the other casino because here, there is a minimum bet of fifty high-grade spirit stones, Feng Ming explained.

Cha Ming's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Exactly how much money does this place make in a year?

Now that he looked at them, the walls were adorned with exquisite paintings that resonated with the heaven and earth qi in the room. Each one was worth thousands of mid-grade spirit stones and served to stabilize one's cultivation and temper one's soul.

It's difficult to say, Feng Ming said. It depends on foot traffic, and the casino's edge is small. This makes them especially susceptible to losses, thus the man's reaction in the other tavern.

Cha Ming nodded as Feng Ming guided him through another cycle of games. They never stayed at a single table for too long, but regardless of the game, their funds increased by leaps and bounds. They'd made a combined total of 10,000 high-grade spirit stones before getting kicked out.

"Now what?" Cha Ming asked, addicted to the feeling of ripping off casinos.

"Now we head to the arenas," Feng Ming said.

***

Intense yelling drowned out vicious roars as a large crowd of cultivators rooted for their favorite sprit beasts. In the arena, a large dire wolf was fighting against a slightly larger spirit bear. The odds in this fight were three to one in favor of the larger bear. The were both covered in deadly gashes, but it was clear that the bear's endurance was winning out. The spirit wolf would soon join the pile of corpses at the base of the arena.

Cha Ming's stomach churned as he made his way to a desk at the back. He'd originally refused to place bets, but Feng Ming convinced him that the best way to stop such places was to shut them down. Cha Ming jumped at the chance.

"Can I help you?" a clerk said from behind the desk. He was busy scribbling in a black ledger. Some words he wrote, but others appeared on their own.

"I'd like to take out a loan," Cha Ming said. "As big as you can give me." The mere thought of borrowing money from such an establishment had Cha Ming sweating bullets.

The man adjusted his spectacles and looked him up and down. "Master Du, Dual Formation and Talisman Master. Age: Early twenties. Suddenly appeared out of nowhere in Quicksilver City and arrived in Songjing only recently. Has connections with the Wang family." The man paused for a moment. "You're good for 10,000 high-grade spirit stones at a twenty-five-percent interest rate due every week. You're also not allowed to bring your friend Feng Ming on the premises—that guy was banned three days ago. If you want the loan, you can sign here." He handed Cha Ming a black paper with golden writing. It was a certificate of debt with extremely harsh repayment clauses. He sighed before ultimately signing it.

The man reviewed the document before stowing it in a spatial ring and placing a crystal card on the table. Cha Ming inspected it before proceeding to a second desk. He looked at the next three fights—a seventh-level spirit fox against a seventh-level soul-screeching owl. The payout was 5:1 if the fox won, so Cha Ming placed a 20,000-stone bet on it. Then he placed a linked bet on the next fight. He would receive a 2:1 payout if a seventh-level dire badger won out against an eighth-level spirit wolf.

Finally, he placed a third linked bet. It was a preposterous round with a 10:1 payout. In this round, a sixth-level spirit bat would face off against a seventh-level dire badger.

"Are you sure you wish to place these three bets?" the attendant confirmed. Although such large bets were quite common, it was rare to see one linked to so many outcomes. "Please sign this contract if you accept."

Another black-and-gold document was placed in front of him. Unlike the last one, this one placed a large obligation on the upper echelons of the arena to pay him should he win. After reviewing it, Cha Ming signed and forked over his 20,000 high-grade spirit stones.

Are you sure this is a good idea? Cha Ming asked Feng Ming through his core-transmission jade.

Mostly, Feng Ming replied. Win or lose, it'll all work out in the end. Just trust me.

Cha Ming groaned. Could losing on borrowed money really be considered good luck? Unable to calm his nerves, he took a seat near the arena. An ordinary orange spirit fox was forced into the caged grounds where a fierce-looking owl was already waiting.

A gong sounded. The owl flapped its small wings and hovered midair while the cautious fox circled him from the outside. It mixed in feints with actual swipes as it tried to wear down its heavily armored foe. Small lacerations appeared on the owl's metallic wings as the fox's attacks became increasingly frantic.

Soon the orange beast's stamina gave out, leaving an opening for its feathered opponent. The owl let out a piercing screech that hit the fox point blank. It faltered as it let out a plume of fox-fire to escape.

The fox's movements became clumsy and lethargic. The owl flapped its tiny wings and raked the fox's exposed back with its glistening talons. Blood sprayed as the fox howled in pain. The crowd cheered at the sight of fresh blood while Cha Ming winced at the exchange. He hoped the little fox would win and live a little longer. Unfortunately, the odds didn't seem to be in its favor. The owl repeatedly used the same tactic, adding one wound after another to the fox's back.

Just let it end, Cha Ming thought. At that moment, a small fluctuation appeared in the arena. The fox gained a second wind as the energy of heaven and earth rushed into him from all sides. He howled fiercely at the owl, who suddenly shook in fear. Out of nowhere, a second tail popped out beside the first one. Everyone's eyes practically popped out of their sockets—the odds of something like a bloodline evolution happening mid-match were less than one in a million.

The owl retreated in a panic as the fox slashed away with its deadly paws. Two hurried swipes caused it to bleed while a third one pushed it to the arena's cage. It roared before finally biting down on the spirit screeching owl's tiny body, leaving nothing but a tiny puddle of blood where the spirit beast used to lay.

"And we have a winner!" the announcer yelled. The tired two-tailed fox was ushered off the stage by an excited tamer. A many-tailed fox was a rare existence, and he would likely get a hefty bonus for managing to raise it to this level. The fox was now in no danger of being killed in the arena—rather, it would be sold to the highest bidder.

"Next up, we have a neck-and-neck match between a seventh-level dire badger and an eighth-level spirit wolf!" the announcer said. "Don't let their level disparity deceive you—badgers are known for their tremendous endurance and their rage-based techniques."

A large wolf was released into the arena simultaneously with a much larger badger. Crimson streaks highlighted the dire badger's black-and-white fur. It held its hands defensively as the wolf circled around its weaker prey. From the stands, Cha Ming could see a green aura of vitality surrounding the badger while a frosty aura surrounded the fire spirit wolf and restrained the badger's movements.

Slash.

A bloody gash appeared in the badger's thick fur. The crowd roared in excitement as their favored spirit beast took the initiative. Their excitement increased as this gash was followed up with a dozen others. The dire badger was a bloody mess, but Cha Ming could tell that the fight had just begun.

The wolf darted in for another quick strike, only to be interrupted by the dire badger's sharp claws. It struggled to break lose as the badger closed in with its sharp teeth and began mauling the agile creature. The badger's wounds healed before the crowd's eyes as the wolf howled in pain. The previously subdued crowd erupted in cheers as the underdog bled the wolf dry.

Cha Ming loathed these people, but he wondered if he was any better. He, too, had bet money on this fight and made it happen. He could only hope that his swipe at the arena would make a difference. Although his earnings had increased to 200,000 spirit stones, the large amount of money felt hollow in comparison to the suffering in the arena.

***

"We have a problem," a man said as he approached a masked figure. "A 20,000-spirit-stone bet has gotten through two successive fights and has now been placed on a fight with 10:1 payout."

"And why is that a problem?" the owner asked. "Aren't the odds stacked against him?"

"Normally I wouldn't worry about it and let the odds take care of everything," the man said. "However, after doing a little digging, I realized that he's friends with that guy we kicked out a few days ago."

"You mean Colonel Feng, the welp who won ten straight bets and walked out of here with 200,000?" the owner exclaimed.

"That's the one," the man said. "While we can't detect his presence, who knows if that guy's freakish good luck will affect his friends. It's better to be safe than sorry."

The masked man pondered for a moment before issuing a rare order. "Poison the bat and try to make it as discreet as possible. I'll handle the negative karma from violating the bet contracts. Since we're at, increase the odds to 20:1 to try and rope in any stragglers and hedge bets."

The man bowed and disappeared, leaving the masked owner to watch from his elevated platform as red threads of karma trickled into him.

"Now let's hope this karma doesn't come back to bite me all at once," he mumbled.

***

Cha Ming paced nervously as a short intermission was called just before the remaining match. An ordinary spirit bat wouldn't stand a chance against a higher-level dire badger. The 10:1 odds were actually quite generous toward the larger animal, making it a terrible bet to take. Sure as rain, the large black board by the betting tables flickered. The odds flashed to 20:1 in favor of the spirit bat in a last-ditch attempt to capture more wagers. Unfortunately, his bet was already locked in.

The crowd calmed after a half hour as they waited patiently for the fight that shouldn't have held much suspense. When the gates opened, a fierce-looking dire badger charged out and let out loud roar.

On the other side, a sluggish-looking bat exited a small pen. Cha Ming frowned when he saw its lethargic state. Spirit bats were usually energetic beasts and fought using their superior speed.

They wouldn't do anything to rig the match, would they? Cha Ming thought. Although his resplendent force couldn't pierce the match's cage, his sharp eyesight inspected every inch of the bat. He saw a green liquid dripping out of the corner of its mouth. It had clearly been poisoned.

The dire badger charged out immediately after the gong sounded. The dire badger looked at the bat with disdain as it lazily swiped its paw. To the crowd's surprise, it missed!

The distance between both creatures rapidly closed, allowing the bat to somehow latch on to its neck. Surprisingly, the dire badger did something unexpected; it didn't swat the bat but merely sat down subserviently, allowing it to drain its blood one liter at a time. The more blood it drank, the less lethargic it became.

The bat grew to twice its size before the weak badger finally managed to throw it off. It swiped defensively as the bat began its usual attack pattern. It attacked with its razor-sharp wings in the badger's blind spots. The enraged badger could do nothing but passively accept its defeat as cuts accumulated over his weakened body.

The crowds booed as the badger finally collapsed. The crowd was shocked, and so were the match organizers. The only one who wasn't surprised was Cha Ming, whose eyes were shining with a purple light. He'd activated the main ability of his Demon-Subduing Eyes to force the badger into submission.

Although he loathed what he had done, he reminded himself that a loss of two million high-grade spirit stones could very well shut down the arena and deter future investment. This thought did little to ease the pain in his heart.