Chapter Thirty: The Wager

In a secure underground chamber somewhere within the Parliament building, over a dozen soldiers moved about with disciplined precision, their eyes fixed ahead, every motion crisp and measured.

A multitude of holographic devices flickered, casting the image of a narrow island shrouded in mist onto a sand table at the room’s center.

The thick doors were tightly shut. On the metal wall directly opposite hung a massive instrument panel, studded with hundreds of indicator lights, beneath which digital displays each showed a name.

Those names belonged to the candidates in the Ability User Selection.

Each indicator light was connected to a communicator, linked in real time by radio. Every half second, data would be exchanged. However, this connection only remained active when the communicator was worn at the cochlea; if removed or if a loss of body heat was detected, the data link would be severed and the interruption instantly noted.

By regulation, if a communicator’s signal was interrupted twenty times—meaning it had been off for more than ten seconds—the corresponding light on the panel would be extinguished.

At registration, each communicator was bound to its respective candidate via identity check—thus, each candidate, communicator, and indicator light were uniquely matched.

Yet already, more than a hundred lights had gone dark; only forty or fifty people had managed a safe landing on the island.

Clang.

The chamber doors swung open. Nine people entered, each exuding a commanding presence.

"Salute to Councilor Zhou, Councilor Huang, Councilor Yao," a sergeant stepped forward crisply. "Greetings, Lord Xu, Lord Lu."

The three councilors held the formal title of ‘Councilor’, while Xu Mingxiong and Lu Shangbai were addressed with respect due to their status as ability users, hence the subtle difference in greeting.

"Why no salute for us?" sneered a gaunt ability user in a blood-red suit embroidered with an eagle’s pattern.

"Apologies. I salute only the ability users of Southport," the sergeant replied, his voice ringing with conviction.

The one who had spoken was an ability user from the Red Eagle Republic.

When Zhou Ze’s group arrived from the airport, they’d encountered Xu Mingxiong and four other city-state team leaders. After a brief exchange, both parties had decided to head for Parliament together.

"Look, another indicator light just went out!" Lu Shangbai suddenly called.

"Quiet, Lu. There are ability users from other city-states here. Don’t embarrass Southport New City," Xu Mingxiong said tersely, glancing back to reprimand him in a low voice.

Lu muttered a few words but fell silent. As one of the youngest ability users in Southport New City, aside from the twin sisters, everyone else outranked him. Even if scolded, he could only sigh in resignation.

Snap.

Another indicator light went out without warning.

Councilor Yao’s eyes widened, but his reclusive nature meant no one else noticed his lapse—except Lu Shangbai, who caught it keenly. He knew at once: Councilor Yao must be worried for his son.

Yao Zhenyuan, if he recalled correctly—a young man whose apparent composure masked a certain sinister gleam in his eyes.

Lu didn’t care much for Yao Zhenyuan.

That younger man, a few years below him, lacked talent but had a nasty temper. In recent years, leaning on his father’s name, he’d done plenty of distasteful things.

Councilor Yao stared at the extinguished indicator, scanning downward until he found a stranger’s name, and finally breathed out in relief. Still, he remained silent, every emotion masked behind a cold, unyielding face.

Normally, no candidate would take off the communicator. Everyone in the room understood exactly what it meant for a communicator to be removed for more than ten seconds.

"Once the communicator is off, the right to become an ability user is lost. But having decided to compete, who would give up so easily?" Councilor Yao muttered, recalling the scene when he’d entered the selection years ago. "So those who lose their communicators are already dead."

For all who entered the selection, only death could make them give up their chance.

He searched further, finally finding his son’s name in a corner. The indicator beside it shone brightly, and his anxiety finally eased. He also found several other familiar names in different places.

"Except for one, all the bodyguards are alive. My son must have already joined up with them," Councilor Yao thought with satisfaction.

A stocky ability user suddenly stepped out from the crowd.

His face was hidden by the shadow of a hood, his long cloak clinging tightly to his body, and on his chest was the spiral dune insignia of Sand City.

"Friends, both old and new, from all the city-states—just standing here watching isn’t much fun, is it?" His mysterious appearance was at odds with his boisterous tone.

"Ding Wei, what do you mean by that?" a female ability user snapped, clearly recognizing him.

"How about a wager?" Ding Wei shook himself, loosening his cloak a bit. "Let’s bet on which city-state’s team will do best in the end?"

"You sound confident," Lu Shangbai said, piqued.

"He’s just a gambling addict—confidence, my foot," the woman retorted.

"Who’ll be the banker? You?" The Red Eagle ability user eyed Ding Wei.

"This selection’s format was set by your Councilor Zhang of Southport New City, and it’s happening near your city. How can an outsider like me be the banker?" Ding Wei said, raising his head to look at Zhou Ze, who’d been silent throughout.

Among Southport’s ability users, Zhou Ze was second only to Councilor Zhang Sheng in reputation, so Ding Wei naturally regarded him as Southport’s representative.

"Very well, Southport New City will bank the wager," Zhou Ze replied impassively, though inwardly he was anxiously searching for Ji Cheng’s name.

Ding Wei grinned. "Heard you’ve got something going on in Southport lately?"

"Hmm?" Zhou Ze’s heart sank as he fixed his gaze on Ding Wei.

"Your Councilor Zhang quietly led a team to Ruins No. 5—did you think Sand City wouldn’t notice?" Ding Wei laughed, slapping his hooded head. "Those ruins sit right there in our desert, not far from Sand City."

"Ruins No. 5? The advanced intelligence storage facility?" the gaunt Red Eagle ability user exclaimed.

Ding Wei added, with a wicked grin, "And the intelligence inside is still stable—its gestalt hasn’t gone haywire yet."

"Is this true, Councilor Zhou?" the other city-state ability users pressed. "We haven’t heard a word!"

"Hmph. Southport needn’t inform you of its affairs," Zhou Ze answered coldly, his tone brooking no dispute.

But inwardly, he seethed, wishing he could devour Ding Wei alive.

He hadn’t imagined that an operation planned in utmost secrecy for years would be so easily—and so publicly—exposed.

Eight years ago, when Zhang Sheng led the founding of Southport New City, they’d begun laying plans for this operation: to quietly secure a cache of advanced intelligence lifeforms. The price had been steep.

For the sake of secrecy alone, three councilor-level ability users had faked their deaths during a campaign against chalk sandworms outside the city and disappeared from public view for eight years. The costs and resources expended were beyond counting.

Despite their utmost care, Sand City’s intelligence network had still uncovered them.

Although the city-states claimed to be allies against the aberrant beasts, in secret they schemed and vied for advantage, their rivalries simmering just beneath the surface.

Ding Wei’s open mention of Southport’s secret was, on the face of it, just to provoke a wager; in truth, it was a calculated warning and a show of strength.

"Heh, Councilor Zhou, you’ve got quite the nerve. So, will you wager or not?"

"Out of the question," Zhou Ze refused flatly. "If you think we’ll risk even one of those advanced intelligences for a bet, you’re deluded."

Even with their plans exposed, he would never gamble away such a prize.

Ding Wei, unconcerned by Zhou Ze’s hostility, kept grinning. "You’ll get at least seven or eight advanced intelligences this time. Even I can’t afford to wager more than one—so let’s just bet on a single one."

"No," Zhou Ze said, his face hard as ice.

"Don’t be hasty—take a look at this." Ding Wei rummaged beneath his loosened cloak and produced a small box.

Click.

He opened it to reveal a coil of fine metallic wire.

"A lattice array!?" Several voices rang out in shock.

Ding Wei strutted with pride. "You all know just how valuable this is to ability users—no less precious than an advanced intelligence. I’d say my offer is more than fair."

"I’ll take your wager," Councilor Yao, who had been silent, suddenly stepped forward. "I have a claim to one of those advanced intelligences as well; I’ll put it up as my stake."

"You dare!" Zhou Ze’s hands trembled with rage, unable to believe Councilor Yao would actually stake an advanced intelligence.

"Yao, you only have the right to allocate a share! These belong to Southport New City. The council decided long ago—they’re to be used to train the next generation of ability users. What right do you have to wager them?"

Councilor Yao didn’t so much as glance at Zhou Ze. He replied lightly, "The lattice array, if won, will go to the best performer in this selection."

His meaning was plain: he was only helping to place the bet, and would claim nothing for himself.

Zhou Ze’s outrage did not subside. "Can you guarantee our victory?"

"Of course," Councilor Yao said, glancing at the indicator lights with a chilling smile.