C52 Destiny

Golden Emperor Palace must have invested a fortune in this stage.

With the world's premier stage lighting and 360-degree surround sound, it felt like being transported to a desolate ancient battlefield.

Each private room boasted top-of-the-line audio systems, ensuring the sounds from the stage's epicenter were delivered flawlessly to every listener.

As the drumming faded, a brief hush fell over the crowd.

Then, a spotlight suddenly pierced the darkness, illuminating the stage's center where a massive iron cage, spanning over a hundred square meters and wrought from fine iron, descended. The deliberately weathered patches on its surface lent the cage an air of rustic wildness, reminiscent of an oppressive, breath-stealing prison.

At the heart of the cage stood a wild beauty with flowing hair, clad in a leopard-print bikini.

"Why is Golden Emperor Palace so fond of bikinis?" Westley mused internally with a hint of sarcasm.

The woman's physique was robust, her wheat-colored skin glowing healthily, enhanced by the sheen of olive oil that accentuated her muscular form.

"Welcome to the Prison World, where the only rule is to fight!" the hostess proclaimed into the microphone, her voice filled with fervor.

At her words, the patrons in the private rooms below began to excitedly wave their arms, their enthusiasm palpable.

For these affluent individuals, mere money could no longer quench their thirst for the wild and the untamed. This spectacle was precisely what they craved.

In the world of business, isn't every major decision a wager?

Thus, high-stakes gambling and the thrill of combat were the perfect duo for these thrill-seekers.

As Westley listened to the overwhelming roar of the crowd, he found himself admiring Boss Powell's business acumen once more. She had a knack for understanding desires and pushing her ventures to the pinnacle of success—a true talent.

"The competition tonight is divided into four matches, featuring fighters we've handpicked for their exceptional skills," the hostess announced. "Please direct your attention to the screens!"

At her cue, the TV screens in each private room sprang to life, displaying detailed profiles of the fighters, their win rates, and the betting odds—all clearly laid out.

Westley scanned the information, quickly grasping the evening's lineup.

After a couple of minutes, the hostess announced with gusto, "I'm sure everyone has a good grasp of the rules by now, so let's dive right into the official competition. Our opening bout features the renowned Elijah from the south squaring off against Kincaid from the national free-for-all tournament."

The stage lights danced as the cage doors on either side swung open, each revealing a contender.

The man to the left was clad in fight gear, slight in build with piercing, unblinking eyes.

To the right stood a slightly taller figure, shirtless, sporting athletic shorts, his muscles taut and ready to burst with power.

He vaulted onto the stage with an aerial flip, landing with precision—a move that earned rapturous applause.

Brianna expertly booted up the computer and showed Westley the ropes.

Westley slid his bank card, decisively hit the left button, and dropped a cool 100,000 yuan without a second thought.

His decisiveness was unmistakable.

Brianna's mouth fell open in surprise, but she couldn't help cautioning, "Sir, are you sure you don't want to give it another thought?"

"No need, the odds are in his favor," Westley replied nonchalantly.

Convinced of Westley's affluence, Brianna wisely chose to hold her tongue.

The betting window was now open, a brief three-minute opportunity.

Once the actual fight commenced, bets were off the table.

Rollen, Vaden, and their crew sat on the couch, looking none too pleased.

Flanking them were the corpulent Edith, the innocent and charming Aimee, and a slender young man.

This was James, from a family of considerable wealth, his father being the proprietor of a hotel chain valued at a cool billion or so.

Yet, his fortune paled in comparison to the astronomical wealth of the Cruz and Freeman families, who started at tens of billions.

James was eager to break into the circle of Rollen and the others, but the rich have their own echelons.

Rollen and Vaden were heirs to their families' billion-dollar empires, setting their sights exceptionally high.

They had no respect for James Lin at all.

For James to break into their circle was a feat more daunting than scaling the heavens.

Yet, through some sleuthing, he discovered that Rollen Tang had taken a liking to Aimee Ye.

As luck would have it, he was Aimee's classmate.

Seizing the moment, James boldly invited Aimee to hang out at the Golden Palace.

To his surprise, Aimee, ever the thrill-seeker, accepted on the spot.

"If I can play matchmaker for Young Mr. Freeman and Aimee today, I'll have my foot in the door of this elite circle," James mused with a hint of smugness.

Vaden Wang's hand lingered before withdrawing from a woman's embrace. Raising his glass, he addressed Rollen, "Young Master Tang, you're not still upset about earlier, are you?"

"Not at all!" Rollen shook his head, his tone icy, "I have no regard for Rashawn Yao."

"Who would've thought James Lin could actually deliver?"

With a mischievous grin, Vaden teased, "Aren't you going to greet the woman of your dreams?"

Rollen's gaze involuntarily drifted to Aimee, who was chatting with Edith Wang.

Her beauty was radiant, each smile and glance brimming with youthful charm.

Both Rogers women were stunners in their own right.

Young Mr. Valdez had his sights set on Olivia Rogers, so he steered clear of pursuing her.

But Aimee, she was the one Rollen was determined to win over.

The thought alone set his heart racing.

Clearing his throat, Rollen mustered a soft tone and offered a toast, "Miss Rogers, since this is our first meeting, how about a drink?"

"Oh."

Aimee's response was nonchalant as she took a sip of her juice and then turned her attention away.

She treated Rollen as if he were invisible!

Truth be told, Aimee was well aware of Rollen's reputation as an arrogant heir to wealth.

Thus, her impression of him was less than favorable.

But decorum dictated she couldn't just walk away from the event, so she chose to simply ignore him.

Despite the snub, Rollen kept his cool.

"Did you bring what I asked for?" Rollen inquired in a hushed tone to Vaden.

"Of course, I did."

Vaden patted his pocket, a lascivious grin spreading across his face. "My buddy told me this stuff's imported and packs a serious punch. Supposedly, it can turn even the most virtuous lady into a wanton."

"Excellent," Rollen said, his smile taking on a chilling edge.

He was determined to sleep with her, by any means necessary!