This was no longer just some affair within the perverse circles of high society.
Whatever they did in private was nobody's concern. After all, no one treated the lower class as human, and no one cared how many of them died.
But they couldn't keep screwing around until it landed on their heads. Sitting at home, only for disaster to fall from the sky. They had done nothing, yet suddenly had to face the meteoric rise of a competitor.
Naturally, those who had not placed bets began to complain. Didn't these people have anything better to do than organize this kind of pooled investment? Were they satisfied now that they had created some colossal upstart?
But complain as they might, they naturally wanted the money to end up in their own hands. Even if they did not set traps themselves, some people would still choose to invest a little and gamble on their luck.
The people who bet later were only pursuing profit, unlike the earlier group that had wanted thrills. They were far more levelheaded. To win money, they naturally brought out every professional method they had.
Of course, some people tried to break into Arkham Asylum. But although Gray Mist could not do physical labor, scaring people was her specialty. It was an Outer God's old trade, after all. With only the slightest effort, she scared those intruders so badly they fled in terror.
Those placing bets naturally understood that the new director had some real skill. Confronting him head-on was unwise. On one hand, they could not beat him; on the other, if he tampered with anything, would they not lose everything?
But being unable to confront him head-on and unwilling to spend too much money did not mean they could not use some special methods.
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