Chapter 187
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 187
Chapter Title: 11th Round Results Tally
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"Goddamn it! Shit-shit-shit-shiiiit!!!"
Japanese player Uetsuhako Manichi let out a thunderous roar.
Having hit red-red-red in three straight successes, he bet on black for the fourth game.
Honestly, after three reds in a row, it felt like black was due.
But red hit four times straight, blowing not just his accumulated points but his principal too.
*Why the hell am I such a fucking moron! Damn it! I gotta recoup my principal, I gotta!*
In the end, for the fifth game, Manichi bet everything he had left on black.
Honestly, what're the odds of red hitting five in a row?
But it actually happened.
"Shit! Fucking moron! Fuck, fuck!!!"
He tore at his hair, screaming in agony.
He'd dabbled in pachinko back in the day and brimmed with confidence, but to get wiped out like this?
Self-loathing washed over him so hard he wanted to off himself right there.
"I'm screwed... ugh... totally screwed."
At least it was a consolation that he wasn't the only one who'd tanked.
*Still, that's something. Even at zero points, no risk of deletion.*
Three hours ago, in the zone-by-zone point tally, his Japanese team ranked 10th.
At that level, no matter how bad he blew it, they wouldn't drop below 95th.
No deletion risk, but that didn't make him feel any better.
No matter what anyone said, the gut punch of losing 23 hours' worth of points was indescribable.
*Just wanna go home already.*
He yearned to return and crash hard, but the game wasn't over yet.
[Alright, next up, high-risk folks—get ready.]
Three people remained who'd chosen high-risk mode.
Honestly, it wasn't even worth watching.
*Dumbasses. Betting their lives on a 1.5% shot. What a bunch of loser scum.*
No doubt bottom-tier teams on the verge of deletion, desperate for the 200x payout.
No sane person would think they'd actually hit that 1.5% probability.
[High-risk choosers will automatically go all-in on points and must hit six games in a row. Shuffling the cards now.]
Two cards shuffled rapidly, one flipping forward.
[Pick the color of this card within one minute.]
Being the first game, the three played it ultra-safe.
Well, Black Scythe had picked instantly at the start, but the other two hadn't.
Their survival hung on their fingertips, after all.
*They're not gonna hit it anyway—pick already. Tsk.*
As Manichi grumbled, the minute ticked down.
[Made your picks? Hehe, fates diverged right from game one. Two went red, one black. Who drops out? Drumroll...!]
The angel, seemingly the only one enjoying this, laughed and revealed the card.
[Tada! First answer: black.]
"Gah...!"
"Aaah...!"
The two who'd picked red flunked out in game one.
Manichi sneered at the guys slumped despondently on the floor.
*Fucking morons. What'd you expect? Hitting six in a row is statistically impossible anyway.*
They just flunked a bit early.
Better to think of it that way—easier on the mind.
*That guy who hit it probably starts bawling soon enough.*
Tsk-tsking, Manichi—oblivious that it was the infamous Black Scythe—waited for the game to end quick.
He'd probably flop by the second.
That was the thought, but things unfolded differently.
[Second answer: red too. Oho, nailed it again! Just four more. Hehe!]
[Third: black. Wow, some luck! Three in a row! Halfway there—keep it up. Kekeke.]
The lone survivor nailed three straight.
Not that surprising.
Manichi had hit three himself.
*Hmph, lucky bastard. But how long's that luck hold?*
Halfway, sure—but now came the real test.
Odds of chaining wins dropped each time.
But even that changed after the fourth result.
[Fourth: red. Haha, you nailed it. Standard mode would've netted 16x by now?]
Four straight hits left even Manichi stunned.
He glanced around—everyone else's faces mirrored his shock.
Not just at the streak itself.
*That guy's... how's he so damn calm?*
Calmer than anyone, he'd picked without a flicker of hesitation, lightning-fast.
*Like he already knows the answer?*
Definitely no ordinary guy.
Four straight, and not a hint of glee.
Just coolly picking.
*No expression change at all. He'd crush at poker.*
Even the Korean players, who'd had zero expectations, perked up at Black Scythe's run.
"Black Scythe hit four in a row."
"Just two more for 200x?"
"Could be he's about to blow up big."
"Then we're golden—safe survival!"
Amid the focused stares, the fifth game kicked off.
Ryu Min picked a color without the slightest pause.
[Okay, which color of the two is i—already picked? Haha, picking randomly like that'll get you wiped in one—anyway, the answer is...]
The angel's smug face soured at the hit.
[...Black. Nailed it again.]
"Woooah! Jackpot!"
"Another hit?"
"This real life?"
The players cheered at the angel's glum announcement.
They'd been glued to Black Scythe, living vicariously.
Since they'd failed themselves.
"Just one more!"
"50% odds!"
"Hit this, it's 200x!"
"Black Scythe, you got this!"
Trapped in the transparent barrier, people cheered in their own languages.
Some inwardly cursed him to fail out of envy.
*Some folks just can't stand others succeeding.*
Ryu Min smirked and made his final pick.
Lady Luck favored him, curses be damned.
[Sixth pick done. Results...!]
The players tensed more than the man himself at the angel's tease.
The angel, blind till the reveal, secretly hoped for a flop.
But reality differed.
[Ah. Hahaha...]
No hitches in Ryu Min's plan.
[Sixth answer: black. Congrats—you won the high-risk game with six straight hits.]
"Waaaaaaah!"
Thunderous cheers shook the chamber.
* * *
Thwuk-!
"Keurgh!"
An arrow nailed a player right between the eyes.
Yang Chuiwen, underworld rank one, approached with a sinister grin, true to his hunter class from round 11's start.
He yanked the arrow from the limp body and licked the blood off the tip.
"Even avatars from another world taste just like the real deal."
Players gave points on death—no reason not to kill.
"How many so far?"
Rank two Zhang Suwei bowed politely at Yang Chuiwen's question.
"Exactly 552."
"Time left till round end?"
"One minute."
"Heh, time well spent."
Yang Chuiwen eyed the progress window.
[China Team Points Earned: 30,621,490]
[Yang Chuiwen's Points Earned: 220,840]
[Time Till Round End: 00:00:54]
Thirty million team points drew a smile.
*No contest—our zone takes first.*
Four hours back, in the tally, they'd led.
No way lower ranks surged in so short a time.
He'd ramped up the human-hunting sprint at the end.
Team unity over 24 hours clinched the team first.
*And personal first too, no doubt.*
Not a second wasted on kills.
Earned through blood and sweat, he had zero doubt on his top spot.
"Zhang Suwei."
"Yes, boss."
"Your points?"
"Roughly 160k."
"Not much. But don't sweat it. China's first is a given."
"No worries. Congrats in advance, actually."
"Congrats?"
"Personal first is as good as yours, right?"
"Damn straight."
"Heard rewards got better this round too. Congrats."
"You're acting like it's special. Just our usual zone first. Getting boring, honestly."
For all his words, Yang Chuiwen's smirk lingered.
*Looking forward to it. What’s the round one's prize? Wonder what I can snag from that special shop they opened.*
Zones merged into one—first here was effectively global first.
Zhang Suwei knew, casually dropping Black Scythe.
"Even Black Scythe's gotta yield first this time."
"'Course. No way he outpoints me after I killed hundreds over 24 hours."
"Impossible."
"That overhyped Black Scythe fucker's first-place streak ends here—with me, Yang Chuiwen."
As he smugly raised his nose,
[Time limit ended.]
[Moving to neutral zone.]
With the limit up, people shifted to a colorless space.
[Hehe, fewer people than at the start—am I imagining?]
The waiting angel scanned the crowd and spoke.
[Started with 130k, now 80k? Killing for points, huh?]
Her twirling grin said she knew full well.
[Whatever. Doesn't matter—survival's by team points. Let's see the tally—which teams live?]
*No need to look—we're first, duh.*
Yang Chuiwen smirked at the rising results window.
Or tried to, as his lip curled.
★ 11th Round Results Tally ★
[Points Tally by Zone]
1st. C3-ESKA001 Korea (34,269,330 points)
2nd. C3-ECHNA003 China (30,621,490 points)
3rd. C3-EBRA004 Brazil (30,264,000 points)
4th. C3-EMXA003 Mexico (29,931,360 points)
5th. C3-EINDA001 India (29,602,040 points)
………………
…………
10th. C3-EJPNA002 Japan (28,004,220 points)
*What? Second?*
His face hardened at not first.
*And what's this? First... Korea?*
A country not even Top 10 now sat at first.
*No way. Gained enough points in four hours to top our zone?*
Absurd, but paled next to the next window.
[That was teams—now personal rankings?]
The angel flapped, summoning a new tally.
[Points Tally by Individual]
1st. Black Scythe (Lv90 Reaper) Points Held: 20,804,000
2nd. Yang Chuiwen (Lv50 Hunter) Points Held: 220,840
3rd. Dark Soul (Lv50 Sniper) Points Held: 200,120
4th. Swingman (Lv49 Martial Artist) Points Held: 194,200
5th. First Warrior (Lv49 Sword Master) Points Held: 184,880
………………
…………
10th. Zhang Suwei (Lv48 Assassin) Points Held: 161,200
"N-No... impossible."
Yang Chuiwen's jaw dropped at the shock.
The gap between first and second neared 100x.