Chapter 332: Stake

Has the door opened?

Logically, it should have opened: Ning Zhe is currently using Feng Yu’s identity, and Te Rang’s rule clearly “saw” a figure suddenly appear at the door—a well-proportioned adult male. The cold white light cast his shadow onto the door; as the door was pulled open, the shadow slid down to the floor like a black arrow pointing from outside into the room.

But as the door opened, it closed again.

The shadow on the floor vanished from Te Rang’s perception in less than a second. Ning Zhe quickly looked up at the door—the door remained tightly shut, and no figure could be seen in the light outside. The deep corridor was empty.

“Just now, that was…” Ning Zhe frowned slightly.

He was certain he had seen it—a man’s silhouette standing outside the door, pulling it open. Even though the scene lasted only an instant, he had truly seen it.

Human eyes may err; the human mind may conjure illusions—but ghosts cannot. Ghosts are rules; rules are absolute: if it exists, it exists; if not, it does not. Te Rang saw it—that means it was real.

Ning Zhe does not believe in people. He believes only in ghosts.

“I can confirm that what just happened was absolutely not an illusion. A man stood outside the door and pulled it open. His shadow transferred to the floor because of the door’s opening, then vanished instantly, and the door returned to its previous state—tightly shut, just as the Gambling Ghost had closed it.”

Ning Zhe pondered silently, glancing at Mei Lin across the table. She was watching Bei Dang toss coins into the cup, her expression unchanged, tense but otherwise normal.

“Mei Lin is observant. She couldn’t have missed the door opening—but her current behavior suggests she didn’t notice at all.”

…Did she not notice? Or, from Mei Lin’s perspective, had the door never opened at all?

Ning Zhe reconsidered—he hadn’t actually seen the man who opened the door either. He didn’t even know what the man looked like. He had only perceived, through Te Rang’s rule, the fleeting shadow that appeared and vanished instantly—a moment too brief for human perception to catch. Without Te Rang, Ning Zhe would now be just like Mei Lin: unaware, convinced nothing had happened.

“And… the way that man appeared and vanished—it felt familiar.”

Ning Zhe recalled the events of today. This trick—someone vanishing and reappearing out of nowhere—had happened many times already. He was almost desensitized to it.

Could this also be tied to the Gambling Ghost’s rule?

A faint splash of water pulled Ning Zhe’s thoughts back. A copper coin fell into the cup. Bei Dang had successfully tossed his first coin. The next toss would determine the first loser of this round.

Bei Dang took a deep breath. The golden liquor reflected his tense face. All eyes were fixed on him. The room fell utterly silent, pressing down on Bei Dang. A bead of cold sweat slid from his temple to his cheek.

Tick—

A drop of sweat fell into the cup, sending ripples across the surface. The crisp sound shattered the stillness like frozen water. Bei Dang held his breath, eyes wide, his heart pounding violently in his chest. Only his rapid heartbeat and the cautious breaths of the others filled the air.

“Thank heaven, thank heaven—it didn’t overflow…”

Bei Dang closed his eyes, breathed deeply to steady himself, gripped his right wrist with his left hand, then gently lifted a copper coin and slowly, steadily moved it above the cup.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, Bei Dang. It’s just a drop of sweat. The Gambling Ghost can fit three coins in there. You’re only on your second. What’s one extra drop of sweat? The volume of a single sweat drop is far less than a copper coin…”

As Bei Dang whispered to calm himself, suddenly, a trembling voice filled with fear echoed softly from behind him:

“What… what are you doing?”

Thud!

Startled by the sudden sound, Bei Dang’s nerves snapped. His wrist jerked, his grip loosened, and the coin slipped from his fingers—clinking into the cup. The liquor shattered, golden fluid sliding down the cup’s side.

“Damn…”

Bei Dang’s eyes widened, his mouth opened but no sound came out. Despair crept across his face. He bit his pale lips, stiffly turned his head—and saw a face full of confusion.

“Uh… hello?” The man’s owner offered an awkward, tentative smile. “There… there was no one in the room just now. How did you all get here? It was like teleportation. You… were playing some kind of game?”

He glanced again at the four golden cups on the table.

Ning Zhe covered his mouth in feigned shock, his beautiful eyes wide with surprise—genuine surprise. Though he didn’t recognize the man who had suddenly appeared, his shadow was familiar to Te Rang.

“That’s the man from the door,” Ning Zhe thought silently. “Did he ‘come over’? Or did we ‘go over’?”

According to the man’s words—“There was no one in the room just now”—he saw neither the gamblers nor the ghosts in this room. Correspondingly, the three humans and the ghost here could not perceive him. They shared the same room, yet seemed separated into two unrelated parallel worlds.

But just now, for some reason, the two worlds merged. They could now perceive each other.

One doubt after another filled Ning Zhe’s mind. He did not move. He reached out, touched his chest—the soft texture filled his palm, then came the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“My heart is still on the right,” Ning Zhe let go, confirming one thing: “I didn’t ‘go over.’ He ‘came over.’”

A cold wind swept through. The stench of rotting flesh drowned out the scent of golden liquor. The Gambling Ghost had risen. The sudden man finally noticed the grotesque demon seated beside the table. His confusion vanished, replaced by terror. His mouth opened slightly: “D… demon…”

The Gambling Ghost said nothing. Only an unnaturally long, pale arm emerged from its tattered robes, reaching toward Bei Dang, whose face had turned ashen.

“The Gambling Ghost is claiming Bei Dang’s stake,” Ning Zhe realized, surprised: “The stake isn’t a life?”

If not a life, then what?

Bei Dang froze, then reacted instantly. He yanked off his mechanical watch, the white gold rose brooch on his chest, his pen from his pocket, the sapphire forget-me-not ring on his middle finger, a stack of euros, several bank cards…

In moments, he laid every valuable item he owned on the table in a neat row, offering them all to the Gambling Ghost—take them all, if you must. Nothing was more precious than life.

But the Gambling Ghost’s icy gaze swept over each item on the table, unmoved. It lifted its head. Its pale, dead face remained expressionless. The outstretched hand rose slightly higher.

“What… what do you want?” Bei Dang asked cautiously.

The Gambling Ghost remained silent, merely pointing at Bei Dang’s shoulder.

The next instant, a cute cloth doll appeared on his shoulder—soft golden curls, eyes made of sapphire buttons.

“Soul-summoning Doll?”

(End of Chapter)