The train screeched to a halt, steam curling along the platform as Elias stepped off with a practiced grin and a suspiciously large duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
"Celestial City Arena, here I come," he muttered, eyes gleaming. Strangely, if one looked closely, there seemed to be a golden dollar symbol in his pupils…
Within minutes, he was already setting up shop—not in a shady alley, not tucked discreetly behind a stall—but boldly out front, right across from the ticket checkpoint to the tournament venue.
A large foldable betting board thumped open beside him, followed by a rapid-fire blur of hand-written odds and names scribbled with colour-coded chalk. Names, stars, college logos, and crude doodles flew across the surface with barely legible annotations and bets for things like "Eternal Second Place," "Losing a Limb," and "Will Cry".
