Preliminary Round Begins

"Master Norsen, do you really think that big brother those children keep talking about can place in the rankings?"

"Heh, how could that be? I just thought the tournament slot we had was useless, so I gave it to those kids on a whim."

"The Isko Merchant Association is utterly inhuman. We rushed so many supplies over for them, yet they only gave us a Martial Arts Tournament entry slot that's practically useless."

"It's only natural that the Rabbit Gathering Merchant Association would encounter resistance when expanding into the west. Some people from the Western Merchant Group probably noticed and put pressure on the Isko Merchant Association. In the end, they only gave us the qualification to participate in the Martial Arts Tournament they were holding."

"If we'd known it would turn out like this, we should have summoned experts from the Southern Territory."

"There are more martial arts experts in the Western Region anyway. We weren't prepared this time, so we can only wait until next time to make our merchant association famous through this tournament."

After exchanging a few words with the Old Servant beside him, Manager Norsen left without paying any attention to the entry slot his merchant association had given away.

Even the Western Merchant Group spy assigned to watch their movements merely smiled dismissively after learning that the group of children they had sponsored was only gathering support for another child who was their big brother. Children entering a martial arts tournament open to all ages? Wouldn't they be eliminated in the first round?

"Excuse me, is this the Registration Desk for the Western Martial Arts Tournament?"

"Yes, Little Sister. What can I do for you?"

Seeing that the person asking was a young girl, the Registrar Miss at her station asked.

"I'm here to register for the tournament."

"Alright, please pay the ten-thousand registration fee first."

"I don't have any money."

"Then do you have a recommendation from a merchant association with tournament qualifications?"

Having just received a group of children, the Registrar Miss continued asking.

"No, but I have this."

"Ah!"

The Registrar Miss let out a startled cry, frightened by the hide with bits of flesh still attached that had been placed on the counter.

"This is Earth Dragon hide. I sold a similar roll of hide for over eleven thousand yuan in the last city. This is from an Earth Dragon I just hunted, and it's been less than an hour since I skinned it. Can I use this to cover the fee?"

Esdeath asked. She had arrived in Great West City yesterday, but the tournament had yet to begin and was still in its registration phase.

After learning that registration required money and realizing she did not have enough, Esdeath had gone back Outside the City to search for traces of Danger Beasts. Only today had she returned after hunting an Earth Dragon.

Worried that registration would close, she had come straight to the Registration Desk without finding a place to sell it, hoping to use goods in place of payment.

"I'll ask."

The Registrar Miss went to ask, and before long, merchant associations that had gotten wind of the news came over to inquire about the ice-blue-haired girl.

After learning that Esdeath came from the northern Partas Tribe, a merchant association specializing in Danger Beast materials purchased the materials she had hunted. At the same time, they offered her a contract to fight on their behalf in the Martial Arts Tournament.

"As long as you make it into the Top 16 and are willing to endorse our merchant association, we'll pay you three hundred thousand. And for every stage you advance, your compensation will double."

"Alright."

Esdeath agreed. It did not conflict with her goals and would earn her extra money, so she had no reason to refuse.

"Miss Merraid, your disguised identity is the sole heir of the southern martial arts family Jujutsu Fist, using the alias Meimei..."

Elsewhere, the subordinates of the future leader of Assassin's Guild Oarberg had also registered her under her disguised identity.

"Broly Big Brother, we've registered you. Here's the number of your first opponent."

"Huh? They assign opponents directly when you register?"

"I don't know, but after we registered, the Registrar Miss at the Registration Desk really did give us this opponent number directly."

This was actually a custom of the Western Martial Arts Tournament. During the Preliminary Round, they tried to place powerful competitors into different advancement groups.

This prevented strong competitors from encountering one another too early and being eliminated before the Top 16 Qualifying Round began.

In other words, Broly had been treated as a weakling and placed into an advancement group that already had a seeded competitor, which was why he could be assigned an opponent immediately.

However, the children around Broly did not care who their big brother's opponent was. They were more concerned with the gambling.

Betting on the Western Martial Arts Tournament was divided into bookmaker betting and head-to-head wagers. Bookmaker betting meant that merchant groups set the odds to attract gamblers, but they only offered bets on famous competitors. They would not open wagers on newcomers at all.

Head-to-head wagers were different. Every Preliminary Round match had a corresponding wager, whether both competitors were newcomers or experienced participants.

There were no fixed odds, however. The odds were calculated when betting closed, based solely on the amounts wagered by gamblers on each side's victory.

"Before the Qualifying Round, this is the only kind we can bet on, and there are three Gambling Houses running these wagers.

"Since Broly Big Brother is an unfavored competitor, there definitely won't be many people betting on him to win. Even those hoping to bet on a Dark Horse probably won't choose him for the first match.

"So we need to place our bets first. Before the match begins, we'll split into three groups and take money to place bets at the Gambling Houses run by those three merchant associations.

"As long as we increase the odds on the opponent's victory, we can lure other gamblers into betting on the other side and form head-to-head wagers with us!"

Nahash had not understood gambling before this, but that did not prevent him from understanding the rules. It was not difficult.

Of course, that excluded idiots and foodies who did not want to think. Akame, Kurome, Boni, Losang, and Broly, standing together, were exactly that sort of group.

"After placing the bet, if no one buys it, we'll spread rumors that some rich idiot wants to bet on a Dark Horse and has put a huge sum on a newly registered kid."

That was Nahash's simple plan.

The next day arrived quickly, and the Western Martial Arts Tournament's Preliminary Round officially began. A crowd of ticket-holding spectators entered the partitioned small arena.

The Qualifying Round was for the Top 16, so there were sixteen advancement groups. Each group had several formidable experts, along with a bunch of weaklings there to serve as Pace Setters.

"Ha, my opponent is actually a kid. What luck."

Broly's opponent was a tall, skinny young man. When he saw Broly step onto the stage, he seemed to think himself incredibly fortunate.

"Hey, Kid over there, surrender once the match starts. I don't want to bully the weak or make a child cry."

Broly thought he was a good person. So once the match began, he used a bit of finesse to toss the man out of the ring.

"Group 7, Preliminary Round Match Twenty-Four. Contestant Number Forty-Eight, Broly, wins."

The referee froze for a moment before announcing the result, mainly because the fight had ended too quickly for him to react.

"What the hell was that? Was Number Forty-Seven made of bamboo? He got thrown out that fast?"

"Fuck, you couldn't even beat a kid in strength? Why don't you just die?!"

"You call that enough skill to enter the Martial Arts Tournament? That's right, watching weaklings embarrass themselves is why I come to the Preliminary Round every year. Your loss really did surprise me—I had a good laugh. But I bet on you to win, and you made me lose this badly. Fuck your mother, give me my money back!"

Clearly, all the spectators cursing had placed bets. They had only wanted to win a little drinking money, yet in less than a second, the person they had bet on was tossed out of the ring and eliminated. The slips in their hands had turned into worthless paper, and an indescribable fury surged in their hearts!