"How about we make a bet on this, Mr. Rick?"
Rick was taken aback when he heard that. He turned his head toward the voice—it was Nolan.
His brows furrowed slightly as he asked with doubt, "What do you mean?"
Nolan folded his arms across his chest and explained, "Looking at your stubbornness, I'm sure you won't easily accept the obvious. So instead of getting into a pointless argument, let's make a bet."
The mention of a bet stirred a sense of longing in Nolan.
In the past, he had wagered with Zarak twice—and both times, he had won.
It hadn't been for a small amount either—sixteen million Sharn.
Although the money meant little to him, even mosquito meat was still meat.
Rick fell silent, lost in thought. He didn't know why the man wanted a bet, nor did he know him well enough to guess if there was a hidden motive behind the challenge.
But once he felt everyone's eyes on him, his doubts faded, replaced by a fearless resolve.
