Fresh off his victorious beat down of Geng Bai, Han Yu sat on the sidelines sipping water like a calm martial arts monk—if that monk were internally scheming harder than a squirrel in a nut vault.
That’s when he overheard it.
"...Fifteen to one odds on Han Yu?"
"Make it twelve! No way he wins again."
"Nah, I’m telling you, he’s got so freaky strength boost. Dude flipped Geng Bai like a dumpling!"
Han Yu’s eyes sharpened. He turned slowly. His enhanced senses had allowed him to pick up on the distant whispers rather easily. Much to the ignorance of all the others who didn’t realize their luck was about to flip.
’They’re... betting on ?’
Of course they were. Where there was pain and poor servants, there were always gambling rings.
He spotted the ringleader almost instantly— None other than Fatty Kui, the plump, jiggly heart of most underground nonsense in the servant quarters. Kui was halfway into a sack of dried spirit prunes while holding a greasy chalkboard of odds.
’Since when has he been doing gambling? Is that how he keeps on getting money for his snacks and why didn’t he tell before?’ Han Yu couldn’t help but wonder.
But one thing was for sure, Fatty Kui number 2 was a lot smarter than Fatty Kui number 1.
Han Yu approached like a man with a business proposal.
"Kui," he said smoothly. "My dear round friend."
"Mm?" Fatty Kui looked up, mouth full of prunes. Sothing that he probably needed with any possible constipation he might get due to his heavy consumption of low fiber snacks.
"I need you to place a bet for ."
Kui’s eyes lit up with suspicion and joy. "Is this legal?"
"No."
"Perfect. I love it already."
Normally speaking, betting on oneself was allowed. But do it too many tis when the odds were in their favor, things could get complicated. The other ’custors’ might complain that they were influencing the match, so it was better to keep silent about it.
Han Yu handed over his last remaining gold coin he had leftover from the paynt Li i had given him. "Put this all on for the next match."
Kui whistled. "Big spender now, huh?"
"Let’s just say I have a good feeling about the next fight," Han Yu said, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. "And if I lose, I expect a full refund."
"No refunds!" Kui cackled, waddling back to his little betting table.
Match Two: Han Yu vs. Boulder Wu
Boulder Wu was nad for his body, not his brains. His approach was simple: run, hit, win.
Unfortunately for him, Han Yu dodged like a squirrel on hot coals and countered with surgical strikes. Wu collapsed mid-charge after a single well-placed palm to the gut that sounded like a waterlon cracking.
WHAM!
"Winner: Han Yu!" Lin Zhe called out again, eyebrows twitching.
’Yeah there’s definitely sothing suspicious about this.’ Lin Zhe thought.
Kui returned later, grinning and bouncing. "Your one gold coin just turned into three! You wanna press your luck?"
Han Yu accepted the coins with the reverence of a starving man being handed roast duck.
Match Three: Han Yu vs. "Crescent Kick" Xin
This one was flashier, but still just fireworks with no follow-through. Han Yu didn’t even break a sweat. He dodged, smirked, stepped behind the guy, and tapped his back. The poor sap fainted from sheer embarrassnt.
The odds for this one had been 4:1. Han Yu walked away with a asly extra gold coin and a bag of roasted peanuts soone threw in for fun.
But the real money? That required drama.
Han Yu leaned in toward Kui. "Alright, ti for the real play."
He had seen the situation change and knew that the usual thod would no longer work. He was now returning to his roots, and that ant it was ti for him to unleash his scamming skills.
Kui’s eyes glead. "Oho? You gonna fight the top-ranked servant next?"
"No," Han Yu whispered, "I’m going to lose."
Kui choked on his prune.
"What?! Why?"
"Because everyone’s betting on now. My odds to win are terrible. But to lose? Five to one, baby. I’m putting all four gold coins down against myself."
"You’re insane."
"I’m profitable."
Match Five: Han Yu vs. Unimportant Nobody #3
The poor kid across from Han Yu was clearly terrified. He’d seen the last three fights and was visibly trembling.
Han Yu gave him a calm nod. "Brace yourself. I’m about to lose so hard they’ll na a cody act after ."
"What?"
"Nothing. Just hit ."
The fight started.
Han Yu took one step forward, made eye contact with the crowd...
...and suddenly, he threw himself into a spinning pirouette, shouted "AAAH! MY LEFT KNEECAP IS CURSED!" and flung himself dramatically into the nearest bush.
Silence.
Then the overseer cautiously peeked over the bush and saw Han Yu lying face down, groaning.
Lin Zhe was stunned, finding it harder to even announce the results.
"Uh... Winner: Unimportant Nobody #3?"
The crowd exploded in chaos.
"HE LOST?"
"WHAT WAS THAT MOVE? WAS THAT A DANCE?"
"He just... he just collapsed midair!"
Fatty Kui howled with laughter from the sidelines, collecting a fat stack of silver and gold coins from furious losers.
Han Yu limped back to Kui, who handed him a velvet pouch.
"Here. Twenty gold coins and one bottle of premium muscle ache salve. For dramatic injuries."
With that, Han Yu had multiplied his original wealth by twenty tis. It was so effortless Han Yu wondered if doing this was a better avenue than working for Li i. But after another thought, he knew that this was just a short term gain and he could make a lot more by working with Li i.
Han Yu grinned, rubbing the pouch lovingly. "Money made from dignity lost is still money earned."
"You’re officially the weirdest servant I’ve ever t," Kui said. "And that includes the guy who fought with a chicken tied to his arm."
Han Yu bowed deeply. "Thank you."
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