Chapter 16: The Stakes are your life (3)

“Blue, you said from the beginning that you didn’t have much money and that no one carries cash. But you’ve already spent close to a thousand.”

The man continued speaking calmly.

“Spending ten thousand in the first round was a psychological play, making everyone believe you really carried only a

small amount of cash. For safety, the denominations increased—first by five hundred, then multiplied by ten. If you

had started with a hundred million, by the sixth round, you’d be spending ten billion. That’s just too much to lose,

isn’t it?”

Ji Sehwa remained silent, listening.

“By enduring the pain once and keeping the increments low for three rounds, the amount you’d pay by the sixth

round would drop to just one billion. You must have calculated this beforehand. And if your lobby funds are stored

on chips, you’re probably holding onto about fifty billion, right?”

Ji Sehwa glared at him. It was clear that he was frighteningly close to the truth, his gaze sharp enough to kill.

“Blue, let me repeat—I’m proposing a deal. In our line of work, trust isn’t built on gratitude or loyalty. It’s money. You know that better than anyone.”

“What do you want?”

Ji Sehwa took the bait.

“Recently, I’ve had a situation at my company. I need 38 billion, but let’s round it to 40 billion. Place that chip in front of me, and I’ll write down ten thousand. I can even show you as I write it.”

“You can’t see what the other writes,” Irua interjected.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate. But no matter. A knife to the stomach for forty billion? I can manage. I’ve dealt with villains before. I’ve even been stabbed once. It’s unpleasant, but bearable.”

Ji Sehwa’s expression twisted in contemplation, her eyebrows twitching in irritation.

I, however, could see right through him. This man was just as much of a scumbag as Kim Young-heon, whose sins

Irua mentioned earlier. A parasite feeding off the weak to fill his vaults. Even his dealings with villains were likely no

different—assassinating politicians to block unfavorable legislation.

“Are you serious about enduring a knife wound?”

“The wound would be in the lower left abdomen. If it hits the kidney, it’s dangerous, but I’ve already lost my left kidney due to surgery. Besides, there’s plenty of fat to cushion the blow. I won’t die.”

He even chuckled, his laughter fitting for a money-obsessed demon.

At this point, I was curious myself—was he truly serious?

“Two minutes left,” Irua said.

“Fine. It’s not against the rules, right? It’s just negotiation.”

“Yes, it’s allowed,” Irua confirmed with a grin.

“Take 40 billion from my chip and put it in front of him,” Ji Sehwa instructed.

Since I was managing Ji Sehwa’s funds, I transferred 40 billion from her chip to a spare one and placed it in front of the man.

He verified the amount on the device and let out a satisfied laugh.

“Forty billion… Heh.”

“A deal is a deal. Prove that you value trust in money.”

“Of course, Blue. I look forward to more profitable deals with you in the future.”

“Heh. Let’s see if you can back up those words. If you’re someone who doesn’t lie about money, I might just trust you.”

Despite her words, the veins bulging on Ji Sehwa’s neck revealed her simmering anger.

“Time’s up. Write your amounts,” Irua declared.

Both began writing. Irua collected the notes and smirked with a mysterious expression.

“Let’s reveal the amounts. Starting with the guest.”

The man closed his eyes briefly before opening them to address Ji Sehwa.

“Blue, I’m sorry.”

“Guest, 599,950,000,000 won.”

The declaration was calm and precise. Ji Sehwa shot a glare at the man.

“599 billion. That’s the amount our guest has entered.”

The man confidently explained his reasoning.

“Blue, from what you’ve written so far, it feels like you’ve spent just slightly over half of your funds. By the second

round, the psychological threshold would be around 300. By the third round, it rises to 1,000. Based on my intel,

today, Blue, you’re scheduled to hand over lobbying funds totaling around 1 trillion won to a certain lawmaker.”

He continued, fully assured of his deductions.

“Seeing you transfer 400 billion to me earlier confirmed it. Spending that amount means you must have at least 700

billion in total. My intel has a high probability of being accurate. And, factoring in the average cash people carry,

approximately 2 million won, subtracting what’s already been spent gives us this estimate. What do you think?”

The man grinned, fully convinced of his victory. He planned to pocket the winnings while enduring a single stab wound.

For him, keeping his word to Blue held no weight. After all, there was no guarantee that Blue would survive this game, and if the man made it out alive, the money was as good as his.

“You son of a b****,” Ji Sehwa spat, her face twisted in rage.

“I understand your anger, but it’s the nature of the game,” the man replied, his composure unshaken.

“If it weren’t for you… If it weren’t for you!”

Her voice cracked, unable to contain her frustration.

“I’ve been so fing careful about money, you godded b****!”

But her fury wasn’t quite what the man anticipated.

“Blue, 2,742,294,100,000 won.”

Irua announced, her tone casual yet sharp.

The amount Ji Sehwa had actually spent: 2.74 trillion won.

“What…? What?!”

“You b******! If you had just kept your fing mouth shut, we wouldn’t have had to reach this point! I wouldn’t have had to ‘balance the remaining amount’ like this, you fer!”

Ji Sehwa screamed, her voice shrill with anger, the words tearing from her throat. The man looked dumbfounded, unable to grasp the situation.

“Don’t get it? Haha, let me explain. You’ve dug your own grave. When Blue has hundreds of billions at their disposal, the only logical move is to force your side to overspend. Otherwise, they’ll match the amount and crush you.”

That’s right. Once the man revealed his knowledge of the lobbying funds, Ji Sehwa had no choice but to spend the vast majority of her funds in one go.

After all, they were wagering on the stomach—a body part where even a minor stab wound could be fatal. Losing was not an option.

Had the man possessed accurate information and written down a higher figure, Ji Sehwa would’ve lost. Her decision was an all-or-nothing gamble.

Furthermore, even if she saved money now, it would make no difference in the next round. The next round targeted the chest—a critical area, just like the stomach, requiring an absolute win.

Thus, spending nearly everything now to secure a victory was the optimal strategy.

“This… this doesn’t make sense! Even with lobbying funds, where else could that kind of money come from?”

“You idiot! Your trash intel only got you this far!” Ji Sehwa snarled, her words laced with venom.

The man’s estimates and Ji Sehwa’s actual liquid assets were worlds apart.

Not that it mattered. Ji Sehwa had always carried insane amounts of cash. She simply didn’t trust banks or accounts—her paranoia led her to convert most of her wealth into physical money.

“T-this can’t be! I-I still have the 400 billion! I can survive a single stab wound!” The man gritted his teeth, clutching onto his last sliver of hope.

Hearing this, Irua smiled sweetly.

“Really? Who said it was just one stab?”

“What? But the others only got stabbed once…”

“That’s not a rule.”

“W-what?! No… NO!”

The man’s scream echoed through the chamber as Ji Sehwa’s underlings began stabbing him relentlessly. The man writhed, his shrieks growing weaker with each blow.

“Keep stabbing! Finish him off!” Ji Sehwa bellowed, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.

Finally, when the man stopped moving, the cage opened, and his lifeless body was dragged out.

“Oh, look at that! Someone left their chips lying around. How careless,” Irua remarked cheerfully, tossing the discarded chip to me.

“Alright, moving on to the fifth round. The target is the chest, and the weapon…” She trailed off, examining the small object. “A pen? That’s all?”

The next man, the infamous Kim Young-heon, was placed into the cage. His face turned ashen as he processed the rules.

“God… even if it’s just a pen, it’s aimed at my heart!”

“You just have to win, don’t you? Then it won’t be a problem. Begin!” Irua announced gleefully.

“No! No! I can’t die in a place like this! Blue, I’m begging you! Without me, my company is finished! Please, tell me your balance! I’m begging you!”

Kim Young-heon cried out in desperation, clinging to the bars of the cage.

Ji Sehwa smirked, savoring his misery.

“Too late.”

“No! Noooo!”

Time slipped by quickly, and the next round was underway.

Kim Youngheon wrote down the amount: 3,120,000 won.

Ji Sehwa wrote down: 478,525 won.

There was no need for deliberation.

“Guest, you’ve exceeded the amount.”

“Aaaah! No, aaaaaaah!”

Kim Youngheon spurted blood from his heart and collapsed lifelessly. Ji Sehwa let out a sigh of relief at the sight.

“I survived. Damn it. I’m alive.”

The remaining area was the left arm.

There were no more fatal areas.

“You bastards! If you’ve feasted on it, you better spit it out! Give me my damn money back!”

Now that her life was safe, Ji Sehwa started thinking about her money.

“There’s still one round left. Heh. The money you lost was lawfully taken as the dealers of this game. If you’d played properly, we’d only have taken about 100 million in petty change.”

“Damn it. Because of that garbage excuse for a man!”

The last remaining guest started trembling, his eyes rolling back.

“Urgh… Ugh. Grrrrr.”

Foam frothed from his mouth before he collapsed with a thud, unconscious.

“Oh my! Looks like there’s no one left to play the game?”

“Humph. Fine, it’s over now, isn’t it? Anyway, the odds of that bastard guessing my remaining balance are

astronomical. He fainted because he knew it too. Just drill a hole in his arm and let me go. You said you’d keep your

promise.”

“Yes, we always keep our promises. Don’t worry about that. But only after the game ends.”

“Then what? Are we supposed to just sit here until that bastard wakes up?”

“Heh heh. We’ll have to send in a substitute.”

“A substitute?”

“Yes. You, step in as the guest.”

Irua pointed at Ji Sehwa as she said this.

“W-What?”

Ji Sehwa was taken aback by this unexpected turn.

Without saying a word, I walked steadily toward Ji Sehwa.

Our faces were now inches apart. Even through the mask, her heavy breathing was palpable.

“Don’t mess with me, you sons of b*tches! That guy was just managing my money! He knows my balance down to the last won!”

Of course, I knew.

After all, this was all orchestrated by me through Irua.

The last guest didn’t have much of a criminal record. That’s why I told Irua to knock him unconscious at the start of the sixth round and send me in as the substitute.

“There’s no need for negotiation, is there? Jae-oh, state your proposed amount.”

“F*ck off! Damn it! I don’t accept this!”

“11,127 won.”

“Oh my, you matched the balance perfectly. Even if Blue declares the same amount, Jae-oh wins. Oh, silly me. I almost forgot to declare the weapon, didn’t I?”

The subordinates brought out the weapon.

At the sight of it, Ji Sehwa’s face turned pale.

“… Don’t mess with me, you b*stards.”

I accepted the weapon from them.

Gripping the handle, I drew it from its sheath.

The gleaming blue blade sparkled brilliantly.

It was the Leviathan Saber.

The main weapon of the Blue Saber.