One Hundred Billion Appearance Fee

Yang Wu had 10 billion. After signing the contract, this year's 10 billion in activity funds had already been deposited into his account.

But he could not be bothered to put it up. This was a challenge, not a wager match. He would treat the 10 billion cost as his appearance fee.

"An appearance fee? And 10 billion at that!"

Yang Hui was somewhat dumbfounded. Even as a mid-level War God, he would have to toil in the Wilderness Area for a whole year to possibly earn that much money.

And with even the slightest carelessness, he might end up leaving his corpse in the wilderness.

Yet Yang Wu was demanding 10 billion just for an appearance fee.

"Fine!"

Yang Hui immediately agreed. This had nothing to do with him anyway; he was just the messenger.

"By the way, you came here in such a hurry just for this?"

With the important matter settled, Yang Wu began chatting casually with Yang Hui.

"Uh, not exactly."

"It's mainly because life at the training camp is dull, tedious, and boring. If you didn't agree to this match, wouldn't everyone be terribly bored?"

Yang Hui waved his hand casually. Just as he said, the entire Elite Training Camp was filled with geniuses from all over, and the competitive pressure among them was immense.

Every student devoted themselves body and soul to dull, tedious cultivation.

There were practically no slackers like Yang Hui among the students. The few who did exist were all instructors at the training camp, seemingly staying there only to retire.

Life at the training camp was dull and monotonous, the same day after day, year after year.

Of course, there were also old students challenging new students every year, but such things happened several times annually. After seeing them too often, there was nothing much to watch.

Only this time, both sides were famous figures.

When they clashed, it would be far more exciting.

"Oh, so that's how it is!" Yang Wu pretended to suddenly understand, then pulled Yang Hui toward the martial arts hall on the second floor.

"Instructor Yang, I have a move here. Please give me some pointers."

News that Yang Wu had accepted the challenge and demanded a 10-billion appearance fee instantly spread throughout the Elite Training Camp.

Ninefold Tower, ninth-floor hall.

At the moment, twenty or thirty young men and women had gathered there. When the news arrived, the entire hall immediately became lively as everyone began discussing it.

"Who does he think he is? Demanding a 10-billion appearance fee."

A big-nosed white youth shouted loudly. From his appearance and language, it was clear that he came from Su Country.

"Heh, no one's forcing you. You can choose not to challenge him!" A young man from China immediately sneered disdainfully.

"Exactly. You're allowed to challenge others, but they aren't allowed to refuse?" Another young man from Huaxia Country chimed in.

"A 10-billion appearance fee is clearly meant to refuse the match. Otherwise, who would be stupid enough to accept it?"

A tall, thin blond youth beside them could not help saying, "A very clever way of refusing."

"If you can't even bear to pay 10 billion, then it seems you weren't sincere to begin with."

"..."

The hall quickly erupted into noise, mainly divided into two camps. Naturally, there was also a group sitting on the fence and watching the show.

On the surface, it was merely two different opinions. In reality, it was a confrontation between two major factions.

The training camp's students were elites from all over the world, and the competitive pressure between them was immense—especially among the top five, where competition was particularly fierce.

Thus, students from different regions began banding together for support, gradually dividing the entire training camp into several major factions.

These were the five factions from the Five Great Nations, as well as the base city faction made up of students from other base cities, including Hongning Base City.

Ragnar Gafriel, a rising genius from Su Country, had now held first place on the Black Dragon Rankings for three consecutive months.

Ranking first in Black Dragon Rankings points not only granted more resources, but more importantly, if one accumulated first place six times, one could receive personal guidance from Hong or Thunder God.

And if one earned first place nine times, one could choose either Hong or Thunder God as their teacher and become their direct disciple.

Who would not be envious of such benefits?

Of course, what they were arguing about now was the 10-billion appearance fee.

Competition at the Elite Training Camp was fierce, and challenging one another had become commonplace. There were even wager matches with a minimum stake of 1 billion, but appearance fees were unprecedented.

What was more, 10 billion was not merely a simple number.

Although these training camp students all received considerable financial support and had well-filled pockets,

they also needed to buy manuals, weapons, and equipment for their own cultivation. Without certainty of victory, who would casually spend 10 billion Hua Xia currency?

And all for a single chance to challenge someone!

However, a piece of news immediately caused an uproar among them: Ragnar Gafriel had actually agreed to the 10-billion Hua Xia currency appearance fee.

He had also arranged to hold the challenge at Ninefold Tower at noon the next day.

A quiet courtyard.

Potted plants were neatly arranged inside and outside the courtyard, along the path, on the windowsills, and across the balconies—trees, flowers, grass, miniature landscapes...

Bang...

The courtyard door was shoved open, and a big-nosed white youth strode in indignantly.

"Ragnar, what is going on with you? How could you agree to such an unreasonable demand?"

Inside the courtyard, a burly white man with a full beard was using his thick, muscular arms to wield a pair of scissors, carefully trimming excess branches and leaves from the bonsai he tended.

It was clearly a strikingly incongruous sight, yet it looked exceptionally harmonious.

"LeMontov, this is my private matter. Stay out of it."

Ragnar spoke carelessly, still focused on trimming the bonsai.

"Stay out of it?"

LeMontov Salaam froze for a moment, then snapped, "Ragnar, don't you understand? This is no longer just your problem!"

As one of Ragnar's few friends, LeMontov Salaam sincerely did not want to see him continue down this dark path.

"I said this is my private matter!" Ragnar's smoothly moving scissors paused, and he nearly cut the wrong branch.

He set down the scissors, then picked up a towel from the table and wiped his hands.

"Leave. I need to rest!"

Ragnar looked at the big-nosed white youth and directly ordered him out.

"You..."

"Don't affect my challenge tomorrow!"

"Hmph!"

LeMontov had entered in a huff, and he slammed the door as he left in the same huff.

He felt that Ragnar had seemed possessed today.

He insisted on obtaining a chance to challenge Yang Wu.

In truth, if he won, it would be fine—everyone would be happy.

But if he lost, the 10 billion Hua Xia currency going down the drain would be the least of it. The worst outcome was that he might even become a laughingstock because of it.

Inside the room, under the lights.

Ragnar took an old photograph from the wardrobe and carefully looked at the woman in it.

"Mother..."

His fingers carefully touched the woman's face in the photograph.

"I'm sorry. I have to break my promise!"