The Gambler's Earnest Plea (Part 1)

A high-level Battle God was present during the serpent's siege? Du Chen felt a flicker of surprise. Had he not been the one to save Antwerp Port? He urged, "Tell me more. What was his appearance?"

"Before your intervention, Sulan merely kept the city surrounded, bickering only with the heavily injured Zigurd. The truth is, she dared not assault Antwerp Port! Her entire siege was a mere pretense, a bluff to intimidate Zigurd!" As Helen spoke, she cast a knowing glance towards Sulan.

Sulan nodded. "In truth, not long after I began the siege, someone secretly sent me a message. He said"—Sulan's mimetic abilities were uncanny, effortlessly producing a chilling, domineering voice—" 'Wretch, I care not for the feud between you and Zigurd. Should you dare harm a single civilian, I shall flay you alive!' "

Du Chen was greatly startled, and an inexplicable urge to 'flay' someone himself immediately surged within him.

Damn it! No wonder his Precious Lotus Scripture had only bloomed to the fourth petal after Antwerp Port's safety. It seemed Antwerp Port hadn't been saved by him at all.

By Sulan's account, the civilians of Antwerp Port were never truly imperiled. At best, he had saved a few soldiers outside the city walls, some unfortunate stragglers unable to make it inside, and Helen. Perhaps even those pitiable, manipulated giant serpents could be added to his tally?

A smile played on Du Chen's lips as this realization dawned on him. If this were true, the difficulty of cultivating the Precious Lotus Scripture wasn't as exorbitant as he'd imagined. The blooming of the second trigram wouldn't necessitate a grand feat of benevolence like saving an entire city. He still had ample opportunities ahead!

No wonder, lately, when he performed minor good deeds, like scrounging for medicine or offering alms to beggars, his backside would still tingle with that familiar itch—a cryptic hint from the Scripture itself! He had, it seemed, profoundly misunderstood the true difficulty of advancing the Scripture all along!

His mind shifted, and Du Chen recalled Sulan's second emphatic declaration: "I shall flay you alive!"

Could it be that his own guardian, the Flaying Battle God, had saved Antwerp Port?

Sulan continued, "At that time, I saw no glimpse of his form, nor did I detect even a wisp of his aura. Later, once the Young Miss was safe, we surmised he might be an acquaintance of yours. Yet, now it appears he bears no relation to you whatsoever."

"Hmm, this piece of information holds some value," Du Chen remarked, leaning languidly against the Worn Leather Chair. With a dismissive wave, he added, "Remember this: only intelligence concerning the nineteenth level will buy my assistance!"

"Understood!" Helen affirmed, rising with Sulan's arm linked in hers. She smiled. "Then Sulan and I shall bid you farewell!"

"Farewell!" Du Chen replied, his gaze falling as he silently weighed the implications of the intelligence he had just acquired.

That old reprobate, Philip, had used Francis and his mother as mere experimental subjects. Du Chen himself had already found his way into Philip's sinister laboratory; it was imperative he begin strategizing for his own safety.

While a Flaying Battle God supposedly stood behind him, experience had proven this individual was merely a man, not an omniscient, omnipotent deity—for he invariably intervened *after* the crisis had already unfolded!

He absolutely could not entrust his life to such a tardy, reactive individual!

Yet, in the vast expanse of the Battle God World, where else could he possibly turn for true sanctuary?

Ah, but there was one other!

Roland, the master of the Aliza brothers!

Du Chen abruptly sprang from the Worn Leather Chair, calling out loudly, "Harry! Prepare a substantial gift for me! Tomorrow, I intend to pay my respects to an esteemed gentleman!"

Harry scampered in, his steps eager, and bowed with a fawning smile. "Master, what sort of temperament does this gentleman you intend to visit possess? What manner of gifts would he appreciate?"

Du Chen furrowed his brow. He genuinely had no idea what Roland might favor. After a moment's contemplation, Du Chen pointed to his own temple and inquired, "What would a person who is... a little unhinged up here, someone who acts erratically, appreciate as a gift?"

Harry blinked his small eyes, a hint of difficulty clouding his expression. "Master, your command presents a slight challenge. Please permit me a moment to ponder. Rest assured, by the time you leave tomorrow morning, you will undoubtedly be presented with a most satisfactory gift."

The following day, Du Chen was torn between laughter and exasperation upon seeing the gift Harry had procured. That damned Shieb had somehow acquired a child's game of Jungle Chess! Yet, the chessboard and its animal pieces were meticulously crafted from solid gold and silver, rendering it a uniquely precious offering.

Clutching the gilded chessboard, Du Chen exited his dormitory. Helen's adjoining room was locked. Needless to say, that girl had already set about finding a way to infiltrate and investigate the nineteenth-level alchemy laboratory.

It was prime class time, and an endless stream of students poured from the dormitories, all heading towards the academic district. Yet, a considerable number of senior 'Academic Dodgers' were undoubtedly still lost in profound slumber, adhering to their sacred principle: 'Electives are to be avoided without question; mandatory courses are to be avoided by choice!'

"Ah!" Du Chen was in the midst of instructing Harry to stand guard by the door when, abruptly, a chorus of high-pitched screams erupted from the banks of the Water River. He followed the sound, his own lips curving into an uncontrollable grin. Harry, meanwhile, collapsed to the ground, clutching his belly, wracked with convulsive laughter.

Along the narrow path bordering the Water River, a figure strolled with ostentatious nonchalance. He wore nothing save for a pair of undergarments, his entire body adorned with vibrant Body Painting. Upon closer inspection, these paints coalesced into intricate, beautiful patterns: grand birds, formidable sharks, and even a detailed portrait of Dean Zigurd himself.

It was Professor Jemison, the notorious Gambler. Though, to call him 'old' felt somewhat unfair; the man appeared to be barely in his twenties.

Jemison, utterly devoid of shame, continued his strut, waving cheerily at the gawking students. "My dear students," he boomed, "This is your beloved Professor Jemison's brand-new course, entitled: 'Body Painting'…"

Under the students' mingled gazes of disdain and bewildered curiosity, he reached Du Chen. Without a word, his paint-smeared hand seized Du Chen's arm, pulling him into the courtyard. "Shieb," he commanded, "Close that gate properly! Do not let a soul enter!"

*Bang!* With the clang of the closing gate, Jemison's audacious smile instantly vanished. He pleaded, his face a mask of misery, "Student Francis, you absolutely *must* rescue me this time! I've lost everything, down to my very undergarments!"

Du Chen found himself suppressing a laugh. To lose everything save for one's underwear, yet still conjure the audacious 'body painting' scheme to parade out of the casino with such blatant impunity—one truly had to admire Professor Jemison's unique brand of resourcefulness.

"Professor, did I not settle your gambling debts last time?" Du Chen retorted, a flicker of irritation igniting at the memory. "Ah, yes, Professor, you and Mr. Bovin seemed to be in the restroom for an uncommonly long duration. I simply couldn't wait for your return, so I took the liberty of settling the bill myself."

"Oh, please, let us not speak of the past!" Jemison exclaimed, his voice laced with urgency. "I've already made the ultimate sacrifice for 'Body Painting'! As my student, you cannot possibly stand by and watch your esteemed professor 'seek intimate communion with nature in pursuit of artistic inspiration,' can you?"

Du Chen simply grinned. "My apologies, Professor, but I confess, I fail to grasp your meaning."

"Damn it, let me put it plainly!" He jabbed a finger at the tip of his nose. "Not only have I gambled away everything but my undergarments, but I've also lost the very dormitory the Academy assigned to its faculty! Surely, you wouldn't possess the heart to witness your teacher forced to sleep on the streets, would you?"

This professor! Du Chen felt a burgeoning headache forming.

Battle God Academy truly housed an eclectic array of characters. In Du Chen's previous life, a man like Jemison would be a prime candidate for study in a mental asylum. Yet, here, the man had somehow managed to thrive, his eccentricity apparently a badge of honor.

Du Chen offered a wry smile. "Professor, what exactly do you propose?"

"I… I wish to impose upon your hospitality for a few days!"