Chapter 180#
Price 03#
As Yu Feichen’s consciousness emerged from the gray mist, he noticed that several people around him were staring at him.
“You’re back, you’re back,” said Xena. “Xiao Yu, what did you get?”
Yu Feichen extended his hand, and a black king chess piece materialized in his palm.
“A black king, huh…”
“Ah, ah,” Claro’s voice rang out, “why isn’t it the white queen? Damn it, where’s my white queen?”
The chess pieces were divided into six types: pawns (P), knights (N), bishops (B), rooks (R), kings (K), and queens (Q). The king and queen were both high-status top-tier pieces.
There were over two thousand people in the venue, each holding one chess piece. This made it unlikely to be a board-based game—first, it didn’t conform to the rules, and second, there was no board. But since the pieces were split into black and white factions, there would undoubtedly be hostile relations. So, as the white king, Claro naturally had to be concerned about who his partner, the white queen, might be.
Yu Feichen had also thought of this, but before he could look at An Fei, he saw Jie Lü sitting quietly diagonally in front of him, with a black chess piece placed squarely in the center of the table. The top of the piece was carved into a three-dimensional double crown—it was the queen piece.
Jie Lü was the black queen.
At that moment, Jie Lü heard the commotion and happened to turn his head.
Their gazes met briefly and indifferently, then they looked away. Neither showed any expression, their eyes conveying only one meaning: Oh, I see.
The eyes are the windows to the soul, and meeting gazes is a way for souls to communicate. But Xena, who had witnessed the entire process from the sidelines, could swear she had never seen such a flavorless exchange in her life.
On the other side, Claro was still muttering, “My white queen… white queen… Vincent, why did you kill so few people?”
Murphy was holding a knight piece in his hand and completely ignored him. Yu Feichen did too.
Yu Feichen looked at An Fei.
An Fei’s hands were empty, and there was nothing in front of him—no chess piece in sight. He was watching Yu Feichen’s king piece with keen interest.
According to Murphy, before An Fei left Everbright, he had temporarily handed over governance to the Painter and Sather, meaning that in coming to the Mist Capital, he hadn’t brought Everbright’s power with him.
After the two of them met, An Fei had stopped hunting prey, so naturally, he hadn’t gained much power.
But the Mist Capital didn’t just assess the scale of power; it also evaluated whether the structure was reasonable.
At this point, An Fei’s power scale wouldn’t be very large, but his mastery over power was unparalleled, so the structure of his power must be tight and exquisite.
Now the black queen was already Jie Lü, but the white queen was still unaccounted for.
The thought “What if An Fei is the white queen” flashed through Yu Feichen’s mind, and he immediately felt like tossing Claro’s umbrella into the air.
Yu Feichen asked, “What are you?”
An Fei extended his hand, but no mist materialized in his palm. He looked at his own palm thoughtfully and said, “I don’t have one.”
This remark drew the attention of the other divine officers.
Before they could discuss it further, a sound came from the distance.
Click, click, click—
It was the sound of high-heeled footsteps, one after another.
The crowd in the hall had been murmuring in low voices, but the incongruous sound silenced them. The footsteps continued, now even more distinct in the sudden stillness.
This time, people finally traced the sound to its source. It was a gray-clad female croupier who had appeared in the hall at some point. She wore a robe, her hair was piled high, and a crest from the underground casino was pinned to her left chest. In her right hand, she held a stone tray with one hand.
The croupier’s expression was lifeless, and her eyes churned with the characteristic gray fog of the Mist Capital. She didn’t seem alive, but her walking posture was strict and elegant, and the tray in her hand remained perfectly still, at least fitting the identity of a casino croupier.
She was heading straight for the second-floor VIP seats. So it turned out that spot really did have special service.
Under everyone’s gaze, she calmly, step by step, walked toward An Fei. Her footsteps echoed across the empty hall’s ceiling, like rhythmic drumbeats.
She stopped directly in front of An Fei.
A voice, elegant yet hoarse, rang out, as if speaking directly into everyone’s ears, and everyone could hear it.
“Guest,” she said to An Fei. “Your chips.”
—Lying quietly in the center of the tray was a single golden chip.
An Fei reached out, his long fingers pinching the chip. Under the light of the booth, it shimmered with a liquid gold glow.
An Fei’s enunciation was slow and light, refined and polite.
“The scepter, you say?” he said. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
The croupier gave him a slight bow. “The Mist Capital wishes you a pleasant evening.”
With that, she turned around. The chip spun a few times between An Fei’s fingers as he idly toyed with it, taking a sip of wine.
The light swayed in his wine glass, shimmering and elusive.
Everyone’s gaze was fixed on him.
He had no chess piece, but he had received a special chip.
And from his conversation with the croupier, he recognized this item.
Xena opened her mouth to ask something, but before she could speak, something changed.
On the long stone table where they sat—the table’s edges were decorated with exquisite engravings and religious patterns—a carving suddenly appeared in front of each person.
The carving was of a kneeling demon figure with bat-like wings on its back. It was in a kneeling posture, but its head was raised high, its mouth wide open as if begging. The statue on An Fei’s table was more intricate than the others, and its posture was even more ferocious.
In the center of each pair of demons lay a red chip—one that everyone except An Fei had.
Once the chips appeared, it no longer seemed like a chess game.
“Hehe,” Claro laughed. “What’s this?”
Xena said, “It’s an ancient gambling game. What’s it called? Let me think.”
An Fei said calmly, “Monarch Chess.”
“Right, that’s the name! I’ve seen records of this game in a very ancient text—one that might even predate Everbright.”
“How do you play?”
“Let’s just watch for now,” Xena said. “According to the ancient rules, for people playing this game for the first time, there’s supposed to be a very simple explanation of the rules…”
Just then, the same croupier who had delivered the golden chip to An Fei appeared at the edge of the arena below.
Her voice once again reached everyone’s ears as before: “Allow me to explain the rules to all who are here for the first time.”
The hall was silent, her voice the only sound: “Flip over the base of the chess piece.”
Everyone followed the instruction.
On the base of each chess piece was engraved a number in an ancient notation.
Yu Feichen’s piece had a “1” at the bottom.
Claro shook his white piece, and its bottom also had a “1”.
Jie Lü’s was “2”.
Aga and the five black raincoats had received the rook pieces (R), second only to the king and queen, with numbers ranging from 3 to 20.
Windsor had a black bishop (B) numbered 63, and Xena had a white piece numbered 51—a fairly high rank, likely thanks to her Gatling gun. White Pine, Murphy, and Destiny had knight pieces, ranging from 200 to 500.
The Doctor also had a knight piece. He hadn’t killed anyone with his own hands, leaving that to his patients—sometimes mad dogs need toys.
However, because his condition was too severe, the power structure of that mad dog duo was also extremely unbalanced, which dragged down their rankings. One black and one white, both were bishop pieces ranked around a hundred.
Xena said, “These are the sequences of all members of the black and white sides, ranked by their respective strengths. The sequence numbers are for… well, convenience in the game.”
Once everyone had seen their sequence numbers, the croupier spoke: “I will randomly select one person from the black side and one from the white side.”
“Great, randomness is here,” Xena said, twitching her lips. “Jie Lü, you’d better be ready.”
Jie Lü remained expressionless.
“Black knight: 463.”
“White knight: 463.”
The person whose number was called jolted and looked toward the arena.
“Please enter.”
The two individuals rose from the northwest and southeast directions respectively and walked toward the bloodstained arena. Under the croupier’s gaze, their steps seemed especially final.
Xena let out a surprised “Huh” and said, “So it wasn’t you after all. Maybe being chosen isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
Jie Lü continued to stay silent.
Two demon statues, one black and one white, stood at opposite ends of the arena. The two people, one from the black side and one from the white side, stood beneath their respective statues. The atmosphere was tense.
Seeing this scene, coupled with the chips in their hands and the two gaping-mouthed demon statues in front of them, people had more or less figured out what was going on.
Then the croupier spoke again.
“Three combat methods are available.”
“Unarmed, armed, or mounted.”
“Spectators place bets.”
“No reward for winning the bet; penalties for losing.”
Everyone: “?”
Betting on who wins and who loses was to be expected. No one here was a saint; who hadn’t fought a few underground matches?
But no reward for winning—was that even a bet?
However, this was their punishment instance after all; there was no choice but to accept it.
A person in the front row asked loudly, “What’s the penalty?”
The croupier’s face was cold, as if she hadn’t heard a thing, and gave no answer.
Suddenly, the main lights around them went out, plunging the seats into darkness. Fortunately, branch-shaped candles were lit at intervals throughout the area, so their vision wasn’t obstructed—it just made the atmosphere truly oppressive.
The central arena, however, was as bright as day. The two on the field were both knight pieces (N), with the same rank, so their strength was likely similar. The white side’s contestant was a dignified-looking blond man, not seen in the circus troupe before, with many scorch marks on his clothes, as if he’d crawled into a chimney during the hunting phase. The black side’s contestant was a thin, small woman with a head of hay-like disheveled hair. She pressed her lips together and stared at her opponent with eagle-like eyes.
At that moment, the demon statues at each end of the arena began to move slowly. Amid the grinding of stone, they raised their arms, each holding up a black stone slab.
On each black slab was painted a knight’s horse-head chess piece. An invisible pen moved across the two black slabs, writing down the names of the two people in the Mist Capital.
The man was called “Short-haired Cat,” and the woman was “Cheetah.”
The names were relatively normal.
But one of the black raincoats suddenly spoke with a slightly weak voice: “Wha-what, do you have to hang your name up there when fighting?”
His tablemate responded in a similarly weak tone: “Th-this isn’t so good, is it…”
The VIP seat of Everbright was suddenly enveloped in an unusual silence.
Yu Feichen: “…”