The sixth day of the Ever Grande Conference.
The morning sun had yet to fully disperse the mist above the stadium, but the entire venue, and indeed the whole of Hoenn, was already enveloped in a near-boiling frenzy.
The semifinals were about to begin.
A massive electronic screen hung in the center of the stadium, cycling through the portraits of the four contestants amidst shifting lights and shadows; the appearance of each face drew thunderous cheers or boos.
The host's voice echoed through every corner via the amplification equipment, every word fanning the flames of the impending duel and igniting the most primal passions within the audience.
However, what truly captivated people at this moment was not the pure spirit of competition.
It was the betting.
The crazy, region-wide betting!
This was a long-standing tradition of the Ever Grande Conference, as well as a carnival tacitly approved by the League.
It turned a major sporting event into a massive gamble for the entire populace.
Countless people waited before televisions or communicators, eyes bloodshot, staring intently at the constantly changing odds, placing their hard-earned Pokedollars on their favorite contestants.
Some became rich overnight, moving from slums into seaside villas.
More people were ruined overnight, losing everything, even the money for their fare home.
Those audience members screaming hoarsely before their screens—do you really think they care about who lifts the Champion trophy?
No!
They were just cheering for the Pokedollars in their own pockets!
The contestants themselves were strictly forbidden from participating, which made Ariel, currently in the contestants' lounge, feel a twinge of regret.
He watched the odds information moving across the lounge TV and couldn't help but smack his lips.
"Tsk, if I could place bets, I'd bet everything I own, borrow some more, and wouldn't I be financially free instantly?"
Ariel muttered to himself, drawing a strange look from a staff member passing by.
On the screen, the support rates and odds for the four contestants clearly displayed the public's judgment.
Lance had a support rate as high as 50%, with pitifully low odds.
Betting on him to win was like putting money in a bank—safe, but with almost no interest.
He was the recognized favorite for Champion; his strength was undeniable.
Cynthia, 25%. Steven, 20%.
These two were also favored children of fortune, with strong backgrounds and immense strength; they were the top choices for many who wanted to play it safe while making a small profit.
Then, there was Ariel.
A support rate of 5%.
A truly heavy number, filled with mockery and disdain.
The odds were shockingly high; betting on him to win the championship was truly a case of "take a gamble, and a bicycle becomes a motorcycle."
But that pitifully low support rate also indicated that almost no one believed this "bicycle" could turn into a "motorcycle."
The risk and reward were showcased vividly here.
"5%... Do they think I can't even last one round?"
Ariel rubbed his chin, not angry at all, but rather finding it somewhat amusing.
That's fine, it'll just let certain people make a huge profit.
...
In the Hoenn region, at a street corner café in Petalburg City.
Several young people were arguing intensely around a table, the portable terminal in the center of the table displaying the betting interface for the Ever Grande Conference.
"All in! Bet on Ariel! The odds ratio has already reached 20 times! And it's still increasing! Brothers, getting rich starts today!"
A young man with a trendy hairstyle slapped the table excitedly, spittle flying.
"Whack!"
A bespectacled friend beside him slapped the back of his head with considerable force.
"Are you crazy? That's your rent for next month! Do you want to sleep on the street?"
The bespectacled man scolded, frustrated by his friend's lack of sense,
"Who is Ariel? Some unknown passerby character! He can beat Lance? He can beat Cynthia? He can beat our Hoenn's Master Steven? You couldn't even dream up a plot like that!"
"But... what if?" The trendy youth clutched his head, still unwilling to give up.
"There is no 'what if'! Listen to me, bet on Lance. Although you'll earn less, at least you'll break even and can afford an extra chicken leg tonight. If you bet on Ariel, you'll be chewing tree bark tonight!"
Under the persistent persuasion of his companions, the trendy youth finally deflated and, unwillingly, transferred his entire life savings—30,000 Pokedollars—into Lance's betting pool.
...
Meanwhile, at the Devon Corporation headquarters, in the top-floor president's office.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows was the most bustling scene of Rustboro City.
Inside, the decor was understated yet luxurious, and the air was filled with the rich aroma of premium coffee.
Steven's father, Mr. Stone, sat behind a large desk. He didn't even look up at the screen on the wall broadcasting the grand event; only after signing his name on a document did he calmly instruct the assistant beside him.
"Bet 20 million on Steven."
His tone was as casual as if he were saying, "Get me a glass of water."
"Yes, President."
The assistant replied respectfully and immediately began operating the terminal.
For the massive Devon Corporation, 20 million Pokedollars didn't even count as an investment; it was more like a father's encouragement and natural support for his son.
In Mr. Stone's view, his son was destined to be the Champion, and this money was just a formality.
However, in another city, in another office, a completely different scene was unfolding.
Slateport City, Stern Shipyard.
The office was far from the relaxed comfort of the Devon building; the scent of machine oil permeated the air.
Gym Leader Stern stared fixedly at his personal terminal; the numbers displayed on the screen made his secretary's heart nearly jump out of her throat.
"Fifty... fifty million! Gym Leader, you are... you are investing all the cash flow we just got from selling the 'Sea-God' blueprints!"
The secretary's voice was trembling,
"This is too risky! If... if we lose, our capital chain for the next quarter will break!"
Gym Leader Stern's weathered face was now filled with unquestionable determination.
His thick fingers swiped across the screen, and finally, he pressed heavily on the name "Ariel."
"Gym Leader!" the secretary screamed.
"I know Ariel's strength!"
Gym Leader Stern said in a deep voice; it wasn't loud, but it carried an irrefutable authority.
"But you are an entrepreneur! Can't you stop meddling in Trainers' business?"
The secretary was so anxious she was nearly crying,
"No matter how strong Ariel is, he's just a Newcomer! His opponents are the heir of the Dragon Family, the young master of Devon, and the pearl of Sinnoh! How could he possibly win?!"
Gym Leader Stern did not argue with her further, simply waving his hand.
"This matter is settled; no one can change it."
He turned around, his back to the secretary, his tall frame like a mountain.
The secretary looked at his back, knowing that saying anything more would be useless, so she could only stomp her foot and retreat in despair.
The office door was closed, shutting out the noise from the outside.
Gym Leader Stern slowly exhaled a breath, leaving only the sound of his steady heartbeat in the room.
He picked up another private communicator and unlocked the screen.
On the screen were only two short lines of conversation history, which he had sent to Ariel late last night.
Stern: "Young friend Ariel, what percentage chance do you think you have of winning the championship in this Ever Grande Conference?"
After a long time, the reply came.
Ariel: "Ninety percent."
No extra explanation, no humble pleasantries, just two simple, direct words.
Stern looked at these two words, as if he could see that young man's calm and confident face.
He smiled.
The businessman, always known for his shrewdness and stability, had, at this moment, rarely chosen to commit to an act of complete madness.
He believed in that young man.
Because, as for the remaining ten percent, perhaps it was just out of fear of being too arrogant.
***************************
Enjoying the story? Don't forget to drop a review, leave a comment, and smash that like button! Every Power Stone helps push the story further—thanks for reading and supporting! 🚀