Jack Young spoke with such confidence that Easton was momentarily speechless. But after a quick glance around, Easton hurriedly threw his arm around Jack's shoulder and whispered, "Did you figure something out? Have you already seen through King Gamble's tricks?"
"Nope." Jack shook his head. "I have no clue how he does it."
"Then you're still betting he'll win?!"
"Not only did I bet, I even cashed in more chips on the spot—put a total of ten thousand taels on him."
"You..." Easton was speechless. "You’ve got guts, man. You’ll gamble on anything, no matter how shaky it is?"
"Actually, I’m pretty sure about this one." Jack grabbed Easton and started heading out, glancing back at the devastated crowd. He whispered, "This bet isn’t really about odd or even—it’s about King Gamble versus Fatty Gold. No matter what I thought was inside that orange, I just got the feeling King Gamble would win. You could see it in his eyes—he was absolutely sure of victory. So I put my money on him."
"Now that you say it, I think I get it." Easton nodded thoughtfully, then his face fell. "But our buy-your-life money is gone—!" He wailed dramatically, dragging out the words like he was auditioning for a tragedy.
"Alright, cut the drama. It’s just the two of us—who are you trying to fool?" Jack gave Easton a look, like, "Nice acting, buddy." He shot him a disgusted glance. "You just want me to help pay off your debt, don’t you? Never thought you’d actually be embarrassed to ask."
"Heh heh..." Easton scratched his head and grinned sheepishly. Yeah, he’d lost big that day and totally forgot about Lady Dai. One wrong move and he lost it all. He’d wanted to be a dashing, carefree hero, but ended up a broke clown over a hundred taels. Easton’s face had nowhere to hide, so he put on his cutest look for Jack: "Jack, buddy, I just wanted to show off for Ling Ji, you know? Who knew my cool act would turn into a clown show? Please, be generous and help your little bro out?"
If this went on, the whole gang would end up in a permanent pawnshop. Jack’s eyes lit up with an idea: "Helping you guys buy your freedom isn’t off the table, but you’ve gotta do me a favor first."
Easton immediately thumped his chest, full-on Braveheart mode: "Whatever it is—knife mountain, fire sea—you name it!"
Honestly, risking life and limb over a hundred taels is pretty cheap... but whatever, no point whining. Jack cut to the chase: "It’s nothing big, just help me look into a few people."
"Who?"
"Golden Blade King, Silverblade King, Lady Simone. If you can dig up anything about their recent moves, that’s perfect. Oh, and there are two old crones in the Imperial Court—Granny Ku and Granny Rong. Help me find out what’s up with them too."
All top-tier martial artists. Easton's face shifted from clownish to actually serious: "You’re trying to..."
"You four have connections all over—just get me the info, don’t worry about the rest." Jack smiled. "Relax, no matter what happens, I won’t drag you guys into it."
"Getting dragged in or not..." Easton wanted to say something heroic, but with so many top-tier masters involved and his brothers’ fates on the line, he held back. He finally nodded: "Innate masters are a whole level above regular martial artists. Getting details is tough. We’ll do our best, see what we can find, alright?"
"That’s all I need." Jack raised his hand and slapped Easton a high five.
The night slipped by. No need to get into the details of the brothel buyout—bottom line, Jack became the big debt collector for four clowns.
"Boss~~ How about paying off the debt with our bodies?" Easton batted his eyes, pure traitor mode: "We’ve got the strong and manly type, the dreamy pretty boy, the shy and innocent—take your pick!"
Jack pretended to be shocked: "Now that you mention it, I never realized—all four of you would kill it as male escorts! Forget the debt, just change your name to the Four Ducks of the Dusty Road and we’ll call it even!"
"Four Ducks of the Dusty Road?" Before any of the clowns could react, Madam Dai burst out laughing, and Easton was instantly smitten. "Great name! Jack, would you be willing to part with it? My Grand Brothel would pay a fortune for that brand."
The shamelessness was off the charts—facepalm worthy.
The next day, the four newly freed men got busy with their own stuff, but their base was still the Grand Brothel. Three of them—East, South, and North—disappeared early, leaving only West Cream to tag along. Not that anyone needed a chaperone, but today was special—Weapon Appraisal Conference, baby!
Before dawn, people were already bustling in Eight Directions Square. It’s right in the heart of Eight Directions City—a big, octagonal plaza. Normally, it’s packed and lively, but today a huge area was cordoned off for construction.
Eight Directions City is the go-to spot for martial arts tournaments and showdowns—think sports stadium meets concert venue. The standard 1.5-meter-high platform is ready-made for events, just hang up some banners and you’ve got yourself a party. But today was different—tons of strong guys were building something, working nonstop all morning.
No need for flyers—word spread like wildfire, and crowds gathered in no time, buzzing with excitement.
Of course, the big shots aren’t gonna stand around waiting. Eight Directions Square isn’t just a boring patch of ground—each of its eight sides has something going on. If you laid a giant Bagua diagram over it, the Qian position is an ancient temple with an octagonal pagoda, and the Kun position is the city’s best restaurant: Bafang Laike.
On the fifth and top floor of Bafang Laike, two guys and two gals sat at the best table, eating, chatting, and enjoying the view.
"Having someone to lead the way is the best—you get the prime seats without showing up early." Fiona Fang nibbled on a crisp cake like a squirrel, nodding nonstop. "One day, I’m gonna be a big shot in the martial arts world too."
"You flatter me, miss." West Cream was different from his shameless big brother—he still had a touch of scholar’s pride and grace, and replied modestly: "The owner of Bafang Laike... well, she and Big Bro go way back, so..."
"Oh, so he didn’t dare show up today?" As soon as she caught wind of the gossip, Fiona Fang’s eyes sparkled.
Luo Yuxi tugged Jack’s sleeve and whispered, "Those people are here too."
Jack looked back and saw a group entering the restaurant—the same folks from the Drunken Moon Tower incident. After getting thoroughly thrashed by outsiders, these sect leaders had become tight, sticking together like comrades in arms. When they saw Jack, their faces changed; Grant Guo even gasped at the sight of West Cream, eyes darting away.
"Ignore them," Jack said, not giving them a second thought. He pointed at the square below: "Hey, West, what are those guys building? Looks like some kind of base."
"West..." West Cream’s mouth twitched, but he forced a smile. "Yeah, they’re building a base. Old Master Ouyezi’s Weapon Appraisal Conference isn’t common, but it comes around every year or so, and the rules are always about the same. What they’re building is called the Hundred Arms Pool—it’s a real treasure. Oh, here it comes!"
Just then, a carriage slowly rolled into the square, pulled by four burly horses who looked like they were struggling. The crowd knew the drill and parted to let it through. On the carriage was something over two meters wide, roundish, covered with canvas.
A dozen strong men used a special frame to hoist the thing up. With a shout, they heaved it onto the newly built base—perfect fit, not a millimeter off.
"Hundred Arms Pool! The Hundred Arms Pool is here!" The crowd erupted, everyone buzzing with excitement.
Luo Yuxi couldn’t help asking, "So what exactly is the Hundred Arms Pool?"
"The Hundred Arms Pool is a legendary treasure passed down through the Ouyezi lineage. Legend has it the first Ouyezi used it for quenching blades." West Cream explained, "It’s made entirely of black jade and shaped like an inkstone, so it’s also called the Hundred Arms Inkstone. Its special power? It can judge the quality of weapons. If the weapon’s good enough, it floats in the pool. If it’s not, it sinks—and you’ll never get it back."
"Floats?" Jack was baffled. "Even metal weapons can float?"
"Exactly. No matter what it’s made of—as long as it meets the basic standards like cutting a hair in midair or surviving a hundred cuts—it’ll float in the Hundred Arms Pool. If not, even a wooden weapon will sink. That’s what makes it so special."
Luo Yuxi pressed, "So if it’s not good enough, you can’t fish it out?"
"If it’s not a divine weapon, it sinks and dissolves in the water—gone for good. This phenomenon is called 'Weapon Slaughter.'" West Cream sighed. "Float or be slaughtered, that’s why the pool’s water is called Floating Pagoda Water. It’s said to be the finest quenching water for forging blades—a single cup is worth a fortune to any blacksmith."
"Hundred Arms Pool, Floating Pagoda Water?" Jack frowned. These things were way beyond regular science—squarely in the realm of the mystical. He was seriously intrigued.
"Look, look down there!" Fiona Fang suddenly pointed, excited. "Isn’t that Zhang Wei?"