Chapter 78: A Black Horse Is Not a Horse

When Baimu walked out of the exit, he saw at a glance not far away Flo Bo—who was wearing his face—half-embracing, half-clutching Rotten Tooth Village, chatting with him.

The latter was drenched in sweat, his expression sheepish and smiling.

"Yo! All done?"

Flo Bo greeted him.

When Rotten Tooth Village saw another Baimu appear before him, his pupils dilated sharply; instinctively he looked at the one beside him, and an uncontrollable panic rose on his face.

"You, this, exactly…"

"Everything that needed asking has been cleared up. This guy really does have something going on with the Crystal Squad—he specifically wanted to set you up."

Flo Bo spoke words that made Rotten Tooth Village tremble, "Thanks to him, I followed the vine and found the organization behind him—an underground casino. You probably wouldn't guess that the casino's boss is actually Crystal Squad leader Chester. Really helped out a lot, Baimu."

"Oh?"

Baimu was somewhat surprised. "Chester runs an underground casino outside?"

"That's right. You also know Chester has always wanted to be the boss himself, only he's been forcibly kept in check by boss within the Quicksand Squad." Flo Bo poked Rotten Tooth Village in the ribs. "Now boss hasn't come back for almost two months, so his little schemes are stirring again, aren't they? Wouldn't you say so?"

The latter only smiled apologetically, not daring to utter a single word in response.

That's right.

Chester was the legendary backstabber—the sort of traitor with rebellion growing like a person on his bones.

The reason Cang Zhi Lang targeted Chester so relentlessly was precisely that Chester was not only insufficiently loyal to boss, but constantly scheming to become a turncoat.

The Quicksand Squad making enemies on all sides was also inseparable from the Crystal Squad under his control.

After all, among the three major squads of the Combat Division, the Stone Squad was mainly in charge of internal affairs, the Sand Squad mainly handled the mines and smelting plants, and only the Crystal Squad was responsible for external matters.

And the reason Chester could act so arrogantly until today was that the Quicksand Squad boss considered him a talent, believing he could keep Chester under control—

When boss was around, that was indeed the case.

But now that boss had gone out to Silicon Beryllium City and still hadn't returned, Chester might have caught wind of something and started making moves again. Fortunately there was Baimu—a Catfish King among the feeble Magikarp—stirring them up and keeping them uneasy.

"What do you plan to do?"

Baimu looked at Rotten Tooth Village, who had begun trembling and realized his situation looked bad. "Follow the vine straight in and smash it?"

"No, of course not. I want to use his hand to trace more leads."

Flo Bo smiled slyly, patting Rotten Tooth Village on the back. "Hear that? You told me so much—Chester can't possibly let you off now. Cooperate obediently and there's still a path to survival."

"…Y-you call the shots."

Rotten Tooth Village's face was utterly crestfallen; he forced an ingratiating smile.

——

The afternoon the Top 64 ended.

The names and avatars of the thirty-two advancers were all posted on the giant screen at the very center of the hall.

The trainers lingering there kicked off debate mode.

"Feels like it's always those same few familiar faces every time—boring."

"What kind of battle tournament is this? It's clearly an ATM tournament! Just don't hold it next time—hand out the prizes directly."

"What the hell are you saying! My big bro's in his first one and he's up there too—didn't you see?"

"Hah, anyone who got in on dogshit luck isn't necessarily going to show up at the finals."

"What did you say!?"

The clamorous voices were quickly drowned out by other discussions.

There were those who couldn't hold their temper and started swinging, but they were promptly dragged off by the arena's security—no matter what faction they were from, no matter whose big name they dropped, they were tossed outside to cool off before being let back in.

After all, in Huang Tie Town, those who could be called top-tier major factions—besides the mayor who controlled the entire town's governmental system—were only the Silver Horse and Silver Ape brothers.

Their sphere of influence covered the most prosperous stretch of Huang Tie Town; nobody could afford to provoke them.

The arguing in the hall continued.

But it was far more civil than before, and the focus of the debate had returned to which contestants had a better shot at advancing to the next round.

Some contestants really had fought tournament after tournament for many editions now—same old soup with a new garnish—and the regulars at the arena could guess their advancement without even trying.

Many underground bookmakers had changed their odds on these people from straight win-loss to betting how many of each side's Pokémon would lose.

Things like one-to-three, two-to-three, and even draws.

These people were collectively called seeded players, and for anyone wanting to strike it rich overnight and flip a single ticket, betting on them was extremely poor value.

At this moment.

The people in the arena hall debating—rather than saying who they favored, were arguing over who they should bet on. Staring at the faces on the big screen was like looking at a string of living racehorses, or rather, stocks.

"I'm really high on that one, the one with the big nose—my mom says people like that have a blessed look."

"A blessed look is worth nothing in the face of combat power."

"I think that person looks pretty good."

"That's a woman!"

"So what if she's a woman? Making it to the Top 32 doesn't prove her combat power? There are women among the seeds too!"

"Go ahead and bet—I'll be laughing."

"Hehe, look over there—do you still remember the name Baimu? That kid from the charity tournament!"

Someone pointed at a corner of the screen; Baimu's big avatar was conspicuously right there among them.

It was mentioned earlier.

Because of his outstanding performance at the charity tournament, Baimu's name would spread within a small circle, making him a person of minor fame.

Although he hadn't shown much on Huang Tie Town's big stage over the past month, quite a few people still remembered him.

"Too green—no good."

"You don't know what he was like in the match? One attacker and one support barely holding on to the end—if it weren't for that idiot, he couldn't have won at all."

"How much can he grow in a single month? I'm not optimistic about him."

"Come on, use your brain — he already made it to the top thirty-two. He's clearly a dark horse!"

"I'd say a dead horse."

The gossipers shook their heads one after another, passing a death sentence on All Baimu's future, none of them optimistic about him.

But still, after hearing their talk, some people chose to place bets on All Baimu. After all, the tournament came round by round, and the betting slips were bought round by round too.

As long as he could advance, they wouldn't lose out.

And as people placed bets on him, his odds gradually shifted, and he entered the view of even more people.

All Baimu, who had already returned to the Quicksand Team's territory, had no idea that his name had once again received a small-scale spread of publicity.

The next day.

The finals of the preliminary round opened.

Once he passed this hurdle, what came next would be the championship tournament.

The competition stage would change from a semi-enclosed format to an open arena format, allowing spectators to enter and watch the matches, and the main hall would also broadcast the contents inside in real time.

It could be called the grand event of the entire Rusty Iron Town.

And to advance, All Baimu still needed to fight one more round.

"Today, I'm leaving it to you."

Walking down a corridor full of rust and a wasteland style, he spoke softly with the Mawile inside the Poké Ball.

The Poké Ball swayed gently, representing the latter's response.