CHAPTER 109: CHAPTER 109 BETTING PARKS

Many changes were unfolding after the big announcement from the Director of the Academy.

Everyone, including the current top 100 rankers, understood the stakes. Venturing alone into the Titan Ruins was nothing short of suicidal. They were expected to face two-star and even three-star beasts—and everyone knew that entering such a place meant they would be risking their lives.

Still, to maintain their ranks and earn generous bounties, they had no choice.

Especially those ranked within or near the top 600—if they wished to climb higher, Titan Ruin was a mandatory battlefield. Survival demanded strategy, and so, temporary alliances began to form rapidly.

Things became more manageable for many super-families and noble lineages as they banded together and moved toward the Titan Ruins.

Back on Earth, the excitement was reaching its peak. Viewers were glued to their screens, eagerly following every update. The atmosphere was electric.

In some parks inside the Fresher Meet Village, betting was now officially legalized.

One such park, packed with people from wealthy and high-profile backgrounds, buzzed with feverish activity. The betting organization—run by a faction of third-year students—thrived in this chaos. They were visibly pleased by all the fiery eyes and fat wallets.

Within moments, the betting ratios for each group were broadcast on giant holoscreens.

A charismatic third-year senior named Bombay Rocky stepped forward with a confident smile. His voice echoed across the park as he announced,

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the betting charts are now live! Currently, there are over fifteen temporary student alliances on Mars. The first phase of the bet is simple: Which group will reach the Titan Ruin first?"

He paused for dramatic effect and continued,

"Here are the odds for the top five super-families:

The Dreadthorn Lineage Family — Odds: 1.3:1. With five top-ranked members and many others within the top 100, they’re the favorites.

The Veyloris Dynasty — 1.4:1

House Astraelan — 1.5:1

The Luminar Covenant — 1.5:1

House Stormwrath Group — 1.6:1

Next, we have groups formed by the three High Nobility Families:

House Ironvale — 1.6:1

The Solmiran Court — 1.7:1

House Nightveil — 1.9:1

And that’s the lineup! You have three minutes to place your bets!"

As soon as he finished, the crowd surged. Rich elites rushed forward, opening wallets thick with credit chips, placing bets on multiple groups—especially on the Dreadthorn Lineage Group, despite the lower returns. After all, they had the highest odds of making it.

The betting parks quickly became the noisiest places in the entire village—crowded, chaotic, and charged with anticipation.

Interestingly, these betting zones also became mini economic engines for the Academy itself. The institution collected a small tax on every wager placed, which fed directly into its financial sector.

Recognizing the opportunity, the Academy sanctioned and opened multiple parks exclusively for betting purposes.

Along the journey to the Titan Ruins, participants frequently encountered corrupted beasts. They didn’t hesitate to strike. To them, these beasts were merely stepping stones to secure their futures. The battles on Mars had started to simmer down—not as intense as before—as everyone was rushing to reach the destination ahead of the rest.

Everyone understood the concept: The early bird gets the worm. And no one wanted to arrive late at the Titan Ruins.

Meanwhile, Shelby had finally brought Erlin into the student zone within the Village.

Just before entering, Erlin had already raised her concerns. She was an intelligent young lady. In just a few days on Earth, she’d picked up a lot about human culture.

"Big Brother Shel, will my presence there cause trouble for you?" she asked as they walked.

"No one—not even the Director—can stop you from entering today," Shelby replied with confidence. "From today onward, you’re my assistant."

"Your assistant?" She frowned. "I don’t think that’s a good idea."

"Just in name only. You won’t have to do anything," he said. "I’m doing this so you kids can stick together once you’re in the Academy. By being listed as my assistant, you’ll be granted the status of a special-class student."

Then he added with pride, "Little girl, you might not think much of me, but I’m currently the top ranker among the 4th-year students. And here in the Academy, top rankers of each year have the privilege of recruiting one assistant from outside—provided the recruit has at least awakened to the One-Star Core level. And you fit the profile perfectly."

As they walked inside, a few senior third-year students tried to question Erlin. But in truth, they were more interested in flirting than carrying out any official duties.

However, spotting Shelby beside her, their tone quickly changed. They hesitated, then offered hasty apologies.

Later, inside one of the parks exclusive to 4th-year students, Erlin remarked, "They seem to be afraid of you."

Shelby shrugged, as if to say, I didn’t do anything wrong.

He pulled out two buckets filled with paste-like bone marrow. They sat down to eat while watching a massive screen. Their attention was fixed on Zane, who was currently making his way toward the Titan Ruins.

Erlin noticed the glances from other fourth-years. In their eyes, she saw not just caution—but also respect and awe toward Shelby.

All around them, bonfires burned brightly. It felt like a festival to remember. Loudspeakers boomed with praise for various freshers. Some families had even paid for such public announcements to boost the reputation of their clans and their youth.

Indeed, many things were happening within the Village.

Up on the high stage, Director Aaron was enjoying the festive mood—until he glanced at the empty seat beside him and sighed.

Boredom crept in. He looked around for someone of equal status to talk to. His eyes landed on Pudge Mordinga.

"Gemini," he said, "send someone to bring Dean Pudge here."

He ended the call.

Soon, Arlos—the Academy’s well-dressed and impeccably mannered butler—stepped onto the podium of the deans.

He approached Pudge, bowed slightly, and said with perfect courtesy, "Dean Pudge, the Director has requested your presence." He handed over a finely crafted invitation letter.

Pudge took the letter, read it silently, and walked away—without saying a word to the colleagues beside him.