Is It Wrong to Bully the Novice Village for System Rewards?

Chapter 242: The Trial Begins, Abnormal Odds

An instant later, Qi Yuan felt the crushing weight of the Sect Leader’s gaze sweep in his direction. Heart skipping a beat, he immediately tucked his chin, desperately trying to blend into the sea of bodies.

“Hall Master Xu, let us begin,” Shen Honglian commanded from her throne amidst the rolling clouds, her eyes lingering thoughtfully on a certain someone below.

The Hall Master of the Nether Fiend Sect’s Internal Affairs Hall, Xu Wanchuan, stepped forward. He was a towering, heavily muscled behemoth of a man. With his rugged features and a wild, wiry beard, he looked like an immovable mountain. Honestly, if you ignored the faint, blood-curdling aura of slaughter rolling off his skin, he looked more like a boisterous, heroic warrior of the righteous path than a high-ranking Demonic Cultivator.

Following convention, the Internal Affairs Hall was responsible for presiding over the Moluo God-Slaughtering Tower trial.

“This subordinate hears and obeys,” Xu Wanchuan rumbled respectfully. He descended from the black clouds, his booming voice echoing over the gathered trial participants.

“Listen well, disciples! Upon entering the Moluo God-Slaughtering Tower, you will begin on the first floor. You must slaughter the tower spirits residing there. Only when every last spirit on your current floor is eradicated will the seal to the next floor unlock.”

“Anyone who survives to the ninety-ninth floor will pass the trial and earn the right to be promoted to a Legacy Disciple of The Saint Sect. At that point, you may choose to activate your token and teleport out, or continue your ascent.”

“Your numbered tokens are your lifelines. However, they are entirely useless during combat. The teleportation array will only activate once a floor is completely cleared of enemies.”

“The spirits grow exponentially stronger with each floor. If you reach your limit, do not be a stubborn fool. If you die trying to punch above your weight, you have only your own arrogance to blame. Do not expect a savior.”

“Remember my words. I do not repeat myself!”

The air grew heavy as the participating Demonic Cultivators absorbed the grim reality. Even Qi Yuan narrowed his eyes, mentally bolding and underlining that specific warning.

Once the Moluo God-Slaughtering Tower sealed its doors, you were on your own. Not even a Great Ascension realm master could bust in to save you. It was a pure meat grinder.

The Nether Fiend Sect treated its disciples like venomous insects in a jar—only the most ruthless survived. They wouldn’t shed a single tear for a “genius” who got themselves killed trying to show off. A dead genius was just fertilizer.

Seeing the healthy dose of fear in their eyes, Xu Wanchuan’s stern expression softened a fraction. “You are the elites who survived the preliminaries. The Moluo God-Slaughtering Tower boasts nine hundred and ninety-nine floors. The Sect actively encourages those with the strength to push as high as they can.”

“The ten disciples who climb the highest will be ranked as the top ten of this trial. Beyond the rank of Legacy Disciple, The Saint Sect will bestow upon them extraordinary, additional rewards.”

Xu Wanchuan paused, his piercing gaze sweeping over the crowd. “I will ask this once: are there any questions?”

“None!”

“We shall not fail the Sect!”

The disciples roared in unison.

Man, what kind of epic loot drops if you actually hit the roof? Qi Yuan wondered. He desperately wanted to ask, but blurting that out right now would make him sound like a massive, arrogant prick. He opted to keep his mouth shut and blindly echo the crowd.

“Excellent. Then let the trial commence.”

Xu Wanchuan produced an ancient, heavily inscribed jade plate from his sleeve. His fingers blurred through a complex series of hand seals as he chanted a guttural, obscure incantation.

A sickly, spectral light erupted from the jade plate.

RUMBLE!

The massive stone doors of the Moluo God-Slaughtering Tower’s first floor ground open. A thick, suffocating fog spilled out from the pitch-black maw, radiating a bone-chilling aura of death.

“First challenger: Inner Sect Disciple of Jueshang Peak, Wu Hengshan.”

Hearing the familiar name, Qi Yuan instantly perked up, eager to get a good look at the absolute lunatic who had allegedly blood-sacrificed his entire family just to forge a better knife.

“Present,” a voice hissed.

A gaunt, sickly-looking young Demonic Cultivator detached himself from the crowd. His hair hung in greasy, unkempt strands over a face twisted into a permanent, sinister sneer. Strapped to his back was a long, narrow sheath of black iron. He reeked of the twisted, malevolent energy that only the most depraved cultists possessed.

Swish!

Without another word, Wu Hengshan stomped the ground, launching himself into the abyssal doorway like a loosed arrow.

High above, the swirling clouds parted, condensing into dozens of massive, crystalline screens. The projection flawlessly broadcasted the interior of the tower in high definition, revealing every gruesome detail to the onlookers.

The crowd barely had time to look up before a blinding arc of blade light flashed across the screens. The first-floor tower spirit was instantly shredded into a fine mist, its agonizing shriek cut short as it dissipated.

“Such terrifying strength! He truly is the absolute favorite to win this trial.”

“Senior Brother Wu’s lethality has evolved again! With that kind of firepower, he’s guaranteed to break the three-hundredth floor!”

“I told you all! The first to enter is always the apex predator. I dumped five hundred High Grade Spirit Stones on Senior Brother Wu taking first place. I’m going to be swimming in cash!”

The spectating Demonic Cultivators buzzed with animated discussion, exclamations of awe rising from the masses.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the plaza, a greasy-looking bookie practically bent over backward as he spotted a familiar face approaching his betting pavilion.

“Ah! Legacy Disciple Ji, gracing my humble establishment! Are you looking to place a wager today?” he asked, rubbing his hands together with a sycophantic grin.

Ji Chan’er ignored him, her sharp eyes scanning the massive glowing board detailing the betting odds. She quickly zeroed in on a specific name.

Blood Refining Peak Outer Sect Disciple, Big Qi. Late Foundation Building stage. Odds for First Place: 1 to 6.

Ji Chan’er froze, staring hard at the numbers.

Why the hell are his odds so low?

In betting pools, low odds meant a high probability of winning. Qi Yuan was literally just an Outer Sect Disciple. On paper, his cultivation base was the absolute weakest out of every single participant.

Logically, his odds should have been astronomical—something like 1 to 100. Yet, here he was sitting at a staggering 1 to 6. This implied a massive influx of capital was backing him to win it all.

“Manager, are you absolutely certain these odds are correct?” Ji Chan’er demanded, her delicate brows furrowing.

The bookie paled, waving his hands frantically. “Legacy Disciple Ji, please rest assured! The ledger updates in real-time based on the flow of Spirit Stones. The numbers never lie!”

“Hey, manager,” a clueless Demonic Cultivator nearby chimed in. “Who exactly is this ‘Big Qi’? He’s just some nobody from the Outer Sect. How did he claw his way into the top ten favored bets?”

Before the bookie could open his mouth, a gossiping bystander eagerly interrupted. “Bro, you missed the show! Just an hour ago, Big Qi’s odds were actually sitting at 1 to 100.”

“But then, the eldest miss of the Situ family—Situ Yan herself—marched up and slammed a cool two million High Grade Spirit Stones on him taking first place! She single-handedly warped the entire betting pool, dragging his odds down to 1 to 6 through sheer financial brute force!”

Situ Yan?

Ji Chan’er’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. That crazy bitch actually dumped two million on him? Does she really think he has what it takes to crush the entire trial?

While she was busy buffering, the bookie leaned in, his voice trembling with greed. “Legacy Disciple Ji… who might you be backing today?”

Snapping out of her daze, Ji Chan’er’s lips curled into a daring smirk. She casually flicked her wrist, producing a heavily enchanted storage bracelet from her sleeve.

“There are fifteen million High Grade Spirit Stones in here,” she declared, her voice ringing out crisp and clear. “Put it all on Big Qi.”

Even at 1 to 6 odds, if Qi Yuan miraculously swept the board, she would walk away with ninety million High Grade Spirit Stones. It was the ultimate high-risk, high-reward gamble.

The moment the words left her mouth, a chorus of sharp, collective gasps ripped through the crowd. The bookie’s jaw practically unhinged, his sleazy smile freezing permanently onto his face as his brain utterly failed to process the sheer, absurd magnitude of the wager.