Fated to Die to the Player, I'll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship!-Chapter 113: Running the Numbers

Right now, we're in the bookmaker's den.

Hmm? What? Running away from my problems? No, I'm not.

Well, the fact that Eva wasn't with us right now could be interpreted that way, but it's really not my fault she refused to tag along. So, in the end, only Cassandra and I marched up to claim the prize for our miraculous bets.

"Fuck off, brat!"

…At least, that was the plan.

The moment we arrived at the entrance and introduced ourselves, the guards' attitude did a complete 180. From fake-friendly to overt hostility. One of the two even shoved me hard, nearly knocking me off balance.

If Eva had been here, this would've ended in a full-blown scuffle. Honestly, maybe it's for the best that she wasn't present.

Thanks to Cassandra grabbing my arm, I avoided falling flat on my back and making an even bigger fool of myself. I brushed off my clothes, especially the spot where the guard had touched, before stepping back in front of them.

The corners of my mouth pulled wider into a grin as I spoke.

"I see… So your boss doesn't want to pay up what I rightfully won, is that it?"

One of the two guards, a massive human man standing roughly 2.5 meters tall, responded to my grin with his own. His eyes were bloodshot, veins throbbing like they might burst at any moment.

"I don't know what you brat is talking about. We were just told to keep any suspicious bastards from getting in!" he barked, spraying spit with every word.

Still grinning, I carefully observed his expression as he leaned in, towering over me. "I'm giving you fair warning. Let us in peacefully, and this doesn't have to get messy."

It was my final courtesy, but it landed on deaf ears.

Both guards spat near my feet, clearly mocking me.

"Hah! You think you scare us? Come back when you've grown some hair on your chest, punk!"

"You, with a waist thinner than my arm, think you can intimidate me? Dream on, brat!"

"…"

Alright. That's enough of that.

I turned toward Cassandra and gave her a nod. No words needed.

Understanding my silent message, she stepped forward—and less than a minute later, the two guards were holding the doors open for us like polite butlers. They even offered to escort us inside.

As for why their faces looked vacant, like they weren't fully there anymore… well, I did warn them. It's really their fault for not listening.

Without further interruptions, we reached the receiving room. Cassandra and I took our seats, waiting patiently for whoever was in charge to make their grand entrance.

"You have 3 minutes before I call the inspectors."

Naturally, I wasn't in the mood for unnecessary delays, so I issued a clear, calm warning. I was already mentally drained by someone's unpredictable behavior—I didn't need another headache today.

"W-Welcome to our humble business, Mr. Grail. I'm Helika, the manager of this establishment…"

Roughly two and a half minutes later, our gracious host arrived.

As he stepped into the room, I almost recoiled. The guy looked like an overgrown rat, maybe half my height. He wore a tidy business suit and carried himself with the posture of a proper gentleman, but make no mistake—he was still a rat.

I briefly wondered if he was somehow related to that stingy bastard Kariki.

Not that it really mattered.

"I'm here for my money," I stated the moment he opened his mouth, causing his twitchy little whiskers to flare.

"A-Ah, the bet, is it?" Helika asked, though the answer was obvious.

He shook his head gently, as if disappointed in something—or maybe just pretending to be. "Unfortunately, we don't have any money for you… Not for a cheater like yourself."

"...?"

My brow twitched. That hit a little too close.

Okay, yes, I may have "nudged" some of the others' times here and there. But aside from that, it was all intuition and risky guesswork! If anything, my interference was a creative form of tactical obstruction—within a gray area at worst!

"So that's how it is? You're refusing to pay me what I earned?" I scoffed, standing up and walking toward the rat-faced manager.

Behind me, the two massive bodyguards quietly flanked Helika, placing themselves right behind him, effectively cutting off any chance of escape.

"I'm telling you now… I'm in a really bad mood." I let out a dramatic sigh, dragging my fingers through my hair. "If you don't pay up, don't blame me for what happens next."

"S-Scoundrel!! Are you threatening me?!"

Helika snarled, his fur puffing up like a cornered beast.

"Hida! Mig! Why are you listening to this lunatic?! You're supposed to stop him—not let him stroll in here like he owns the damn place…!" he yelled, panicking as he pointed accusingly at the two brutes.

But his voice didn't reach them. The guards stood still, their gazes locked on him, blank and unblinking. Eyes devoid of thought.

And the moment Helika noticed those empty, soulless stares… he froze.

He must've felt it too—something was very, very wrong.

"D-Do you think you'll be safe if you touched me?!" he blabbered, foam forming at the edges of his lips from sheer panic. "I—I have connections! My uncle! Kariki Blas! He'll make you pay for this! He won't let this slide once he finds out what you did! You should start counting your remaining days, human scoundrel!!!"

*SLAP!*

He was too loud for a rat. But one swift slap was more than enough to shut him up.

"Listen closely, alright?" I knelt down in front of him, lowering myself just enough to meet his beady eyes. "Kariki? That rat bastard and I go way back—and not in a good way. You want to call him? Go ahead. Be my guest. Tell him that Arthur Grail is waiting."

I then grabbed his whiskers, tugging hard and yanking his filthy little face toward the floor before pressing my foot onto the back of his head.

"But remember, whether you're still breathing by the time he gets here… that's a whole different story."

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"Hiik...!"

The rat bastard squeaked out a pathetic yelp, his entire frame trembling like a soaked leaf in a storm… I suppose that should be enough to break his pride. I pulled my foot back and returned to the sofa, sitting comfortably beside Cassandra.

I exhaled deeply, shedding the intensity in my demeanor and letting my usual calmness take over.

"Well then, shall we talk business?"

Placing both hands on the table, I spoke with clear intention.

"One quadrillion, twenty trillion, four hundred fifty billion, nine hundred eighty-six million, and two hundred Credits. That's the amount I'm owed for the Superfecta bet. If I receive that, then I'll consider letting everything else slide."

"P-Please, mercy, Sir Arthur Grail!!!"

The manager suddenly fell to his knees, pleading with a desperation so thick it made him look even smaller than before. The panic in his voice was soaked in pure terror—it was honestly pathetic.

"O-Our house can't handle a payout that massive! That amount would wipe us out entirely! We'd be bankrupt overnight!"

"I know."

"...Eh?"

His head snapped up, blinking in disbelief. He looked genuinely baffled, like a child being told their toy was broken. Slow on the uptake, this one.

"I said, I know you can't afford it. You've got hundreds of trillions of participants in the betting pool. Even assuming only 5% of them placed winning bets, you'd still be paying out around 30% of your total revenue."

Each bet could be as much as a billion Credits, but the minimum bet was just a thousand. Not too expensive by galactic standards.

Even with that, the total revenue—excluding my prize, obviously—would be somewhere near 500 trillion Credits, give or take. That includes taking into account salaries, maintenance, overhead, and all other operating expenses.

In short, even if they drained their coffers, they'd barely be able to cover half of what I'm owed.

"But well... I'm not a demon," I said with a shrug, my grin softening just enough to be called a smile.

"Pay me 500 trillion upfront. Then, list the remaining balance as a formal debt under your name. I want 25 trillion Credits deposited into my account every month for the next 24 months. To guarantee payment, let's put your business license up as collateral. That sounds reasonable, doesn't it?"

The rat-man's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, his mouth flapping open and close like a broken hatch. Probably trying to find words, maybe insults, maybe curses. Who knows?

"Y-YOU...!"

"..."

Alright, I'll admit—this deal would probably bleed their business dry. But that's not my problem. If they can't afford to pay me, they shouldn't have set the odds so high in the first place.

In the end, after much gnashing of teeth and quiet sobbing, we sealed the deal with a legally binding contract based entirely on my terms.

They transferred half of my winnings on the spot, and the rest was formalized as monthly installments. Which meant, even if we decided to sit on our hands from now on, we'd still be earning 25 trillion Credits every month.

With that kind of steady income, maybe it's time to consider upgrading the Falcon to its absolute peak—just like I did with Eva's heavily customized Frigate.

"…"

Speaking of Eva—I almost forgot.

There's still her matter hanging over my head like a storm cloud.

Her words before she locked herself in her room… That abrupt kiss… My brain hurts just thinking about it.

"Alright," I sighed to myself. "Let's get our prize from President Anderson first."

No, I'm not running away from my problems. I'm simply dealing with what's in front of me—one step at a time.

Besides, the real reason we entered the Aegis GP in the first place was for that deal with the Astoria's top dog. Now that we've emerged victorious—and in a landslide, no less—it's time to reap the biggest reward yet: the last two Warp Nexus fragments.

"With those in our hands, the preparations for the next chapter of the main story are nearly complete!"