"Looks like we won that round rather easily," Gideon remarked with a satisfied smile. Without realizing it himself, the gaze he directed at Ashley carried a hint of affection and indulgence.

"Good for us. This investment really paid off," Ashley replied with a grin.

As she spoke, her eyes discreetly drifted toward the masked man, curious about his reaction. Considering the outcome, she half-expected at least a trace of disappointment or frustration. Yet to her surprise, he remained as calm and composed as ever.

But then again, she already assumed that he, too, believed that Drake would win, and that was why he put his bet on Roger to give them a gift.

Roger’s talent had never been in question. Unfortunately, the praise and favoritism he had received over the years had slowly inflated his ego. The moment he found himself cornered and humiliated in front of a crowd, he lost the one thing a fighter could never afford to lose, his composure.

Instead of adapting, he allowed his emotions to dictate his actions, charging forward recklessly and abandoning all reason.

Drake, on the other hand, was a veteran forged by countless hardships and setbacks. His determination to reclaim his former glory had tempered both his body and mind. Against someone who had already lost control of himself, Drake’s victory had become almost inevitable.

"Congratulations."

The masked man finally spoke, his tone calm and indifferent as he directed the words toward Gideon and Ashley. There was neither bitterness nor annoyance in his voice, only quiet acknowledgment, as though the outcome had unfolded exactly as he expected.

Before long, the female attendant returned, carrying a tablet in her hands.

"Congratulations, Miss Gildenvale and Mr. Walker," she said with a professional smile. "Based on the odds, your wagers have each earned a gross payout of one billion. However, the arena charges a twenty percent processing and management fee, reducing the cash payout to eight hundred million each."

"In addition, the master’s side wager includes the title deed to the Western District property and an extra ten million. Altogether, each of you will receive assets and funds totaling eight hundred and five million."

The attendant delivered the figures flawlessly and without the slightest hesitation, as though she were merely reciting an ordinary transaction.

Yet Ashley couldn’t help but be surprised.

After all, 1.6 billion was no small amount.

In fact, it was such an astronomical sum that she briefly wondered whether the arena could truly afford to pay it out so easily. For a moment, she even considered the possibility that complications might arise.

Underground organizations were hardly known for their integrity, and there was always the chance that someone might decide it would be easier to eliminate the winners than hand over such a massive amount of money.

However, the more Ashley thought about it, the less likely that possibility seemed.

The arena had deliberately set Drake’s odds absurdly high because they had expected almost nobody to bet on him. As the owner of the establishment, the masked man couldn’t possibly have been unaware of Drake’s recent performances and steady rise through the ranks. More importantly, the fight had been advertised and highlighted throughout the day as though it were the main event itself.

That alone suggested they had been anticipating an upset all along.

The high odds weren’t a mistake; they were a bait.

The arena had expected the overwhelming majority of bettors to place their money on Roger. Given his youth, reputation, and popularity, that outcome was practically guaranteed. Ashley suspected that even most of the wealthy guests seated in the VIP section had backed Roger without hesitation.

Still, despite the crowd’s confidence in Roger, she found it difficult to believe that the total betting pool had exceeded a billion. Which meant the arena was likely paying out a considerable portion of the reward from its own reserves.

And yet, neither the attendant nor the masked man appeared the least bit concerned.

Their calmness suggested that, to them, even a payout worth billions was nothing worth worrying about.

Ashley stole a glance at the masked man, unable to suppress a trace of nervousness. After all, she knew exactly who he was, the uncrowned king of the underground world.

However, the fact that he had placed his bet on Roger as a gesture of welcome toward both her and Gideon, coupled with his complete lack of reaction, spoke volumes. It was as though he was silently allowing them to walk away with this victory without making things difficult for them. Realizing this, Ashley quietly let out a sigh of relief.

In fact, she suspected the masked man might even be willing to shoulder part of the arena’s losses himself. Today’s betting pool wasn’t even remotely close to the staggering 1.6 billion payout that Gideon and Ashley stood to collect.

"Miss Gildenvale, there’s no need to look at me so cautiously." The masked man leaned back in his seat, his tone calm and measured. "I won’t make things difficult for either of you. Consider today’s outcome a small gesture of goodwill from me. After all, opportunities to befriend heirs of powerful aristocratic families don’t come often. Wouldn’t you agree?"

His words were spoken slowly, yet they struck the crowd harder than a hammer. The entire VIP area fell silent. Though many had suffered tremendous losses from the upset, none dared voice their displeasure. The masked man’s attitude had made his position abundantly clear, and no one present was foolish enough to challenge it.

"That’s right. We all came here to have fun, and losing is simply part of the game," the pot-bellied man hurriedly chimed in with a hearty laugh.

However, his words were far less noble than they sounded.

After witnessing how amicably Ashley and Gideon seemed to be getting along with the masked man, and after seeing the staggering amount of money the pair had just won, he couldn’t help but become envious.

In his eyes, both Ashley and Gideon were already giant fish in an enormous pond, while the masked man was someone even they appeared willing to befriend.

Naturally, he wanted a piece of that connection as well.

Perhaps he could leave a favorable impression. Perhaps he could build a relationship with these influential figures. And if fortune smiled upon him, perhaps he might even receive some of the masked man’s unexpected generosity in the future.

The truth was that none of them knew much about the masked man beyond his reputation as a solitary figure whose coldness and ruthlessness were as famous as his wealth and influence. Yet that only made his favor all the more valuable.

Unfortunately for the pot-bellied man, his attempt to insert himself into the conversation failed completely. After he spoke, not a single person paid him any attention, leaving his smile frozen awkwardly on his face.

Only after the conversation had completely died down did the female attendant step forward.

"Miss Gildenvale, Mr. Walker, may I ask where you would like your winnings transferred? As for the title deed, it is right here."

As she spoke, another attendant silently brought forward a wooden tray lined with luxurious velvet cushioning, upon which rested the title deed.

The female attendant carefully picked it up with both hands before respectfully presenting it to Ashley.