Free Web Novel“...If this person really is a player from the Kings’ Guild league team, then with this level of skill and individual combat power, this year’s singles tournament is definitely going to be worth watching. I’d say this player is guaranteed a top-five placement...”
“Who exactly is he? I searched the entire video archive and couldn’t find a single recording of him. There’s no way someone this absurdly strong is an unknown nobody. He even locked his panel visibility to ‘self only.’ I’m dying to know what his actual panel stats look like!”
At the back of the bustling crowd stood a man dressed in a formal suit and top hat. Several enormous diamond rings glittered on his fingers, though oddly enough, he wore white gloves beneath them. Leaning lightly against a black lacquered cane, he gazed up at Tang Erda’s small television.
The fingers wrapped around the cane’s oval handle tapped rhythmically, as though lost in thought.
At last, the corners of his lips lifted into a smile.
“There are quite a few dark horses this year.”
He casually reached into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out half of a white silk handkerchief.
Yet the handkerchief seemed endless.
One after another, silk scarves continued sliding from his pocket like a magician’s trick, each embroidered with pencil sketches of different players’ faces. The very last scarf bore the symbol of spades.
If Wang Shun had been present, he would have immediately recognized the identity of this bizarrely dressed but low-profile spectator.
This was the person Wang Shun had been searching for—the one he believed could break the deadlock of Bai Liu being cornered by the Kings’ Guild:
Charles, guild leader of the fifth-ranked guild, the Gambler’s Club.
Charles’s skill identity was known as [The Magician at the Gambling Table].
His greatest hobby was scouting league dark horses with exceptional potential, investing resources into raising them, and helping them grow strong enough to shine during the league.
At the same time, Charles would place astronomical bets on the very players he personally nurtured. Once those dark horses produced shocking performances in official matches, Charles—acting as the investor behind the scenes—would reap enormous profits through their victories.
Simply put, the leader of the Gambler’s Club loved “betting on horses.”
Every year, he recorded the league’s champion dark horse onto one of his magical props—usually silk scarves.
The pencil portraits embroidered on the scarves currently flowing from his sleeve were the champions of previous years.
The final scarf bearing the spade symbol represented last year’s champion.
And there was another secret connection unknown to outsiders—
When Spades was still a rookie, the person who heavily supported him and pushed him toward the championship was Charles himself.
As the man who had chosen Spades as his “betting horse,” Charles earned a fortune from every gamble involving Spades, relying entirely on Spades’ overwhelming dominance against all other league players.
Unfortunately, Spades’ odds this year had become far too low.
Practically no one believed he could lose anymore.
Everyone bet on Spades winning.
And in a completely one-sided gamble, even victory yielded little profit.
As a gambler who pursued massive returns from a single wager, Charles naturally found no satisfaction in a “dark horse” with such low odds. What he wanted was a player capable of overturning the board itself—a high-risk, high-uncertainty existence overflowing with spectacle.
Only that kind of dark horse could bring him true profit.
That was the essence of gambling.
Which was why, not long after this year’s league support season began, Charles had already started searching for new candidates.
Like every major guild, the Gambler’s Club possessed intelligence databases hidden from ordinary players. freēwebnovel.com
Wang Shun of the Hearts Guild had access to similar information networks.
The strangely dressed magician rummaged through his suit pocket for a while before finally pulling out a vivid rose-red silk scarf.
His smile deepened.
“Found him.”
Embroidered on the front of the scarf was a pencil sketch of Tang Erda.
The Tang Erda in the drawing looked younger than he did now, colder as well. His condition appeared terrible. He wore a bloodstained Management Bureau uniform, injuries covered his face, and his expression was hollow and empty.
Yet within that vacant stare lingered something terrifying—
A drifting hatred and despair that made him look simultaneously broken and insane.
Below the right side of the portrait’s chest was a small golden trophy, flanked by laurel branches symbolizing championship victory.
On the back of the scarf, several lines of information were written in an extremely strange pictographic script incomprehensible to ordinary players.
Charles narrowed his eyes and studied it briefly before turning toward Tang Erda’s small television with renewed interest.
“No wonder you looked familiar.”
“So it’s you... Withered Rose Hunter.”
He lowered the brim of his hat slightly, his smile growing more meaningful.
“A time traveler. A former champion from another world line.”
“Let me see... how those ignorant masses once cheered for you after watching you lift the championship trophy in that timeline...”
“The ‘savior’ they believed could lead them out of the game.”
Charles’s finger slid lower across the scarf until it reached Tang Erda’s support slogan.
“—The legendary hunter who never misses a shot, slayer of monsters and savior of the people. Steel-Fisted and Earless, Godly Gunner Tang Erda.”
When Charles read the slogan, the smile on his face became even stranger.
“‘If I win, I’ll end this game, protect every innocent person, and allow all of you to leave safely.’”
“How painfully naïve.”
Without the slightest concern, Charles crushed the rose-colored scarf into a ball within his gloved palm.
The scarf vanished instantly.
“Among the people who enter this game... how many are truly innocent?”
“A player whose methods and goals fundamentally contradict each other will eventually go mad, even if he wins.”
“Because he can never accomplish what he actually wants.”
In Charles’s eyes, Tang Erda was unsuited to become his dark horse.
Charles preferred players with clearer desires—players driven by pragmatism, who fully understood what they were doing and what they intended to gain from it.
The magician casually flicked his wrist.
The silk scarf slipped between his fingers once more, but this time it transformed into a bouquet of roses that bloomed with a soft “pop” in his palm.
Charles handed the bouquet to the female viewer standing before him—the same girl who had just been startled while cheering for Tang Erda.
Half-bowing elegantly, he smiled.
“My apologies for interrupting your viewing experience.”
“But this player’s television is best enjoyed alongside a bouquet of roses.”
“A gift for you, milady.”
By the time the bewildered girl accepted the flowers and looked up again, the strange magician had already disappeared.
She lowered her gaze toward the bouquet in her arms, her expression turning odd.
Just moments ago, the roses had been blooming brilliantly.
Now they were already beginning to wither.
But her attention was quickly pulled elsewhere.
Something even more exciting had appeared on Tang Erda’s television.
Holding her breath nervously, she stared at the rapidly updating system notifications.
[System Notification: Player *** (Name Hidden by Player Choice)]
[10,107 new users liked Player ***’s small television. 0 users favorited Player ***’s television (this player has disabled favorites). 7,003 users tipped a total of 10,102 points.]
[18,020 new viewers entered Player ***’s television. Congratulations! The player has surpassed ten thousand likes within one minute and earned ten thousand points! The audience passionately adores you!]
[Congratulations to Player *** for receiving a featured promotion slot and entering the central screen’s core recommendation section. Viewer count rising rapidly...]
“He got promoted! A featured opening promotion in a three-star game!”
“He already secured the lead!”
“Who the hell is this guy?! He’s insanely strong, completely mysterious, hides both his name and panel, and even disabled favorites...”
—
Meanwhile, Bai Liu’s small television painted an entirely different picture.
Compared to the explosive popularity, shocked reactions, and rapidly climbing promotion rankings on Tang Erda’s side, Bai Liu’s situation looked downright miserable.
Not only was he struggling desperately while protecting Liu Jiayi, but from the audience’s perspective, he appeared to be doing nothing except stalling for time until Liu Jiayi’s skills cooled down—only to continue stalling afterward.
There was no visible sense of competition.
No momentum.
Only a pitiful struggle to survive.
Such cowardly and passive gameplay naturally drove viewers away in disappointment.
And unlike Tang Erda, Bai Liu didn’t even have supporters.
The only people gathered around his screen were those waiting eagerly for him to die already and get it over with.
“What a complete waste of the Little Witch’s abilities. I seriously don’t understand why she follows him.”
“Didn’t he claim to be some kind of control-type player? He must be controlling the Little Witch somehow. But even with her helping him, he still plays this pathetically. Even when the guild drags her into large-scale raids, she’s never had to work this hard.”
“How braindead do you have to be to think stalling for time is a strategy?”
“Stop hiding behind the Little Witch! If you’re a man, stand in front and protect her yourself!”
The mid-level Kings’ Guild players crowding the front row were so frustrated they practically wished they could jump into the game and replace Bai Liu themselves.
Unlike the lower-level players who simply mocked Bai Liu maliciously, many mid-level members of the Kings’ Guild had survived and climbed upward thanks to Liu Jiayi’s healing.
Liu Jiayi’s battlefield awareness was exceptional, and her support abilities were first-rate.
Meanwhile, Queen of Hearts cared little about the lives of ordinary guild members. She frequently threw large groups of players into three-star games together, using brutal survival pressure to filter out elite players and future league members.
It was essentially a method of raising gu insects.
Because of this, many guild members feared Queen of Hearts far more than they respected her.
And under such a cruel environment, the existence of the Little Witch became incredibly precious.
Liu Jiayi possessed powerful healing and crowd-control abilities. As long as a game remained clearable, she would genuinely try her best to bring everyone out alive.
For many mid-level players lacking overwhelming personal strength, their lives had effectively /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ been saved by Liu Jiayi.
To them, the Little Witch was practically a guardian angel.
Back when nobody knew Liu Jiayi’s real age, many players treated her like a goddess.
Now that her age had been revealed, half of them wanted to become her older brothers while the other half wanted to adopt her as a daughter.
So when they saw Liu Jiayi running around with Bai Liu, it felt as though their precious little sister—or daughter—had been abducted by a villain.
Their hatred toward Bai Liu could practically be described as irreconcilable.
If possible, they would gladly grind him into ashes on the spot and drag Liu Jiayi back themselves.
Yet at that very moment, the Little Witch they treasured so dearly was exhausting herself protecting Bai Liu with absolute sincerity.
Her small face had already turned pale from overexertion, but she never uttered a single complaint.
The emotions of the viewers surrounding the screen became indescribably complicated.
Even though they hated Bai Liu to death and refused to give him a single like or point, many of them were secretly watching Liu Jiayi’s television instead, quietly sending her tips and likes while silently praying that she would stay safe.
