On the Gambling Table lay a lifelike, three-dimensional map, as though a real landscape had been shrunk countless times and placed before them.
It showed a mountain range.
A caravan traveled along a narrow mountain road, consisting of more than twenty wagons. Each carried a large, square chest, its contents unknown.
The caravan was quiet.
So quiet that it was eerie.
Neither the drivers nor the guards spoke, and even the horses and wagons made no sound, as though they were part of an illusion.
But this was certainly no illusion.
Birdsong in the mountains and the chirping of insects in the grass were clearly audible. They could even smell the fresh fragrance of vegetation.
After observing for a while without discovering anything, Chen Lin turned his attention to the betting rules.
There were three ways to play.
The first was to bet that none of the caravan's chests would be stolen within two hours.
This was easy enough to understand.
In other words, regardless of what happened or how many people died, all the chests simply had to remain with the caravan for two hours.
The second option was the exact opposite.
All the chests had to be stolen.
Chen Lin rubbed his chin.
Apparently, the chests were what mattered in this caravan. Neither the drivers nor the guards were important. He wondered what treasures the chests contained, and whether they might become additional rewards.
He then looked at the odds.
Both options paid one for two: wagering two Profound Mystery Fruits would earn only one in winnings.
The third option had no fixed rules.
They could wager however they pleased, betting on any outcome, and the Gambling Table Spirit would calculate the odds directly from their chosen wager.
There was also another notice.
The minimum stake for this