Chapter Thirty: Planning for Development

"Damn it!"

"How is this possible! How did Kichi die?!"

"Are you kidding me!"

"You idiots, get up there and kill that barbarian from Monlego!"

The vast majority of the crowd had placed their bets on Kichi, who had been on a winning streak. Now that Kichi had met the same brutal fate as his previous opponents, it meant the money they had been so certain of winning had vanished into thin air.

The jeers and curses were interspersed with sporadic cheers; a tiny fraction of the audience had bet on Diaz, instantly reaping returns of over ten times their wagers.

Of course, the one who profited the most was Verac.

While others might have tried their luck, they generally only risked a few dozen or a few hundred; no one else would have taken the risk of wagering nearly ten thousand gold klinks.

"Impressive..." After Verac won his bet, Colin was left speechless.

He had never imagined that Verac could actually win. Ten thousand or even a hundred thousand gold klinks didn't mean much to him; he had mainly just wanted to see Verac’s smug confidence turn into the look of a defeated loser.

"It’s a pity you didn't bring enough money today, otherwise you could have earned quite a bit more," Verac said, still feeling a hint of regret.

This might have been the fastest opportunity to make money he would ever have. Had he not been constrained by circumstances, he would have done everything in his power to bet more and rake in another hundred thousand or so.

"Happiness is what matters most! You’ve finally held your head high for once!" Colin leaned in and teased. "You used to be so unlucky that you almost never won; people treated you like a total sucker. At least now you can walk out with your head held high—and it makes me look good, too."

"Yes, happiness is what matters most." Verac tried to let go of that slight sense of regret.

While they chatted, the waiter brought over bank notes totaling nearly 150,000 gold klinks, drawing envious stares from the surrounding spectators.

"Keep betting on Diaz for the next two rounds. I'll take the total and give it to Mr. Colin after all the matches are over." Verac did not take the money, intending to squeeze out every last bit of profit he could.

"Very well, Mr. Chris, Mr. Colin." The waiter withdrew.

"Your ten thousand gold klinks will be returned to you after the matches are officially over," Verac said to Colin.

Colin waved his hand. "No rush. Looking at you, it seems you intend to win back everything you lost in the past all at once today."

"Have you calculated how much I've lost in total before?" Verac asked casually.

"You never played for much whenever you came; I’d estimate you’ve lost less than two hundred thousand over the last two years," Colin mused.

Losing two hundred thousand over two years was considered relatively minor for people of their status, and Verac had earned back one hundred and forty thousand in a single day, recovering more than half of what Chris had lost previously.

"Not bad." Verac nodded and stood up. "I’m going to the restroom; you keep watching."

"Sure." Colin began eating fruit, waiting for the next match to begin.

Verac left the stands, but instead of heading to the crowded restroom, he walked out of the arena and into the night. It was roughly eleven o'clock; there were very few pedestrians in the suburbs. Verac shoved his hands into his coat pockets and waited quietly.

Before long, a man across the street, also dressed in a dark overcoat and hat, caught his eye. After making sure Verac had spotted him, the man turned and walked into an alleyway.

Verac took a deep breath, crossed the street, and followed.

In the alley, the two maintained a distance of over twenty meters as they walked deeper into the shadows.

At the very end, the man turned around. When Verac drew closer, the man removed his hat and extended a hand. "Comrade Chris, it has been a long time."

"Comrade Chloe." Verac felt awkward using the term, but he shook the man's hand.

Chloe struggled to suppress his excitement. "Learning that you are still alive has truly inspired all of us. We have been desperate to know what you went through during this time."

"It's a long story." Verac intentionally steered clear of the question of how 'Chris' had survived, jumping straight to the reason why he hadn't been able to leave. "After that incident, my father discovered my identity. Although he used his connections to handle the trouble for me, he also insisted that I cut all ties with the organization to avoid bringing disaster upon myself. That is why I haven't been allowed to leave; today was the first opportunity I could find to come and see you."

"Sigh... the current situation is dire. It seems that we are not the only ones under immense pressure; you, too, have been fighting a difficult battle," Chloe sighed. "After the recent mass rebellion, everyone in the organization is panicked. We desperately need you to steady us."

Verac said, "Tell me exactly what happened, and what the situation has been like within the organization."

"Very well." Chloe began to recount their ordeal. "As our influence grew, the government's determination to suppress us only strengthened. Because we strictly followed your instructions to keep a low profile, they never found an appropriate opportunity to wipe us out. Later, in order to gain a detailed understanding of our internal operations, they decided to send people to infiltrate our organization, hoping to destroy us from within. The reason we were intercepted by the government during our last meeting was because their mole leaked our location. Fortunately, you were not exposed, but it is a great tragedy that other key members were sacrificed... After that incident, I led an emergency investigation and managed to root out all the moles. Now, all our personnel have gone into hiding."

Verac turned away, looking somewhat dejected.

Seeing this, Chloe suppressed his grief and pulled out a small notebook. "This is the list of those who were sacrificed, along with the current status of our members."

After a few seconds, Verac turned back. His eyes were bloodshot as he solemnly took the notebook. "We have been severely weakened and need time to recover. Therefore, do not take any further action for the time being. We must also learn from this lesson and ensure we never make the same mistake again."

"Understood," Chloe replied.

Verac patted Chloe on the shoulder. "Although I am still alive, my situation is not optimistic. The government has begun to suspect me, so I must maintain an even lower profile and cannot appear frequently. With the core strength of our organization lacking, I leave the task of selecting new key members to you."

"Understood."

"During these days of house arrest, I have been thinking about our future path. In the year of struggle in Leizein, we lost Francis and many like-minded comrades. I do not wish to see any more pointless, avoidable sacrifices." Verac recited the lines he had carefully prepared with deep emotion. "I believe we should not limit ourselves to Leizein. We must rally not just the strength of Leizein, but the strength of the entire nation, and indeed, the entire world. Our immediate task is not to clash head-on with the government—we will gain nothing from that. Our priority is to spread our ideology, to awaken more people, and to let the downtrodden stand up."

After the passionate speech, Chloe felt his blood boiling. Although Verac had significantly shifted the direction of the rebel organization, it was clearly a more promising, albeit more difficult and worthwhile, path to pursue.

"Can you handle this task properly?" Verac asked with expectation.

"Comrade Chris," Chloe stood at attention and said solemnly, "I guarantee the mission will be accomplished."