The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch - Chapter 63

【Future】

【Saint Year 741, June 20, 9:05 AM】

【Countdown – 23:59:59】

“Fire! Do it!”

“Don’t wimp out! It’s a fifty-fifty chance! Life or death, nothing more!”

“Whooo!”

The rowdy shouts of the crowd pulled Ciel back to awareness.

Around her, people were watching the glass chamber on the high platform with flushed faces, their excitement palpable.

Inside, a small-statured man trembled as he aimed a gun at the massive figure before him.

“Fuck this!!!”

The small man roared and yanked the trigger.

Bang—!

A gunshot rang out, and a mixture of yellow, white, and red splattered against the right-side glass wall, slowly sliding down.

“Victory! ‘Shorty’!”

The dealer approached the small man, raising his gun-wielding hand. By now, the man was sobbing uncontrollably, barely standing with the dealer’s support.

“You have won all the chips and a special reward from Deton Manor. Your debt is cleared… Do you wish to continue? If you keep defending your title, the prize will only increase!”

The dealer looked at the small man and asked.

“I’m done… I’m done!”

The small man pulled his hand free from the dealer’s grip and scrambled to gather his bloodstained chips, stuffing them into a bag.

“Then, please wait while we clean the arena.”

The dealer gave a slight bow to the audience, smiling. “Ladies and gentlemen, you may proceed to redeem your betting tickets.”

The gathered crowd began to disperse. Ciel raised her hand and flipped through her casino notebook.

【I got the money, but Avena seems worried, afraid I’ve fallen too deep into gambling. The others have been watching me closely too. The chips are already exchanged and in my handbag.】

【I’ve been observing the betting ring for a while. Most players last no more than three rounds. The area is only cleaned when a defender forfeits.】

【As I expected, I can see the result before the trigger is pulled—but only one second in advance. I can’t place bets before knowing who wins.】

【Almost everyone loads three live bullets and two blanks. It offers the highest survival probability. Even with just two blanks, three live bullets to the head usually incapacitates the opponent—unless they have special protection.】

【But if I load four blanks, I just need to shoot the live round at my opponent. Whether they die or not, I win. So it doesn’t really matter.】

【Once the arena is cleaned, they start recruiting new challengers. At that point, the highest bidder secures the first move.】

Ciel felt the weight of her handbag, then carefully tore up the written notes and stuffed them into her pocket.

“Ciel, are you alright?”

Avena’s voice came from beside her. Ciel turned to see Avena looking at her, a trace of concern in her eyes.

“This place is awful… Let’s just go exchange our chips and leave,” Adele murmured, shrinking behind Ciel. She hadn’t dared to watch the bloody spectacle on the stage.

When Ciel glanced at Adele, she also noticed the gamblers from the card tables—those who had lost to her earlier—stealing glances in her direction.

It seemed they were waiting to see what she would bet on, probably to challenge her again and reclaim their losses.

At that moment, the gas lamps hanging from the four corners of the glass chamber flickered to life, drawing everyone’s attention.

It was starting.

Ciel clutched her handbag in her left hand and stepped forward—only for Avena to grab her wrist.

“Ciel, what are you planning to do?”

Avena’s voice was firm. “If you need money for something, I can lend it to you.”

Ciel raised her right hand and gently pressed it against Avena’s, prying her fingers away.

“Don’t worry, Avena.”

Ciel’s voice softened beneath her mask. “I have obtained a surefire strategy.”

A surefire… strategy?

When? Avena had been watching her the entire time.

She had even glanced at Ciel’s notes, which were just simple records of what she was doing and seeing—like a journal.

“Avena… What’s going on with Ciel?”

Adele stared at Ciel as she walked toward the stage, dumbfounded.

If she remembered correctly… Ciel… didn’t have any transcendent abilities, right?

Adele’s heart tightened alongside Avena’s.

Ciel ascended the steps one by one, reaching the glass chamber. She opened the door and stepped in, taking a seat on the right side.

“Alright! We have our first contestant! Contestant, please place your bet once the curtain falls!”

The dealer spread his arms wide, and a massive red curtain slowly descended from above.

Ciel pulled open her handbag. A small compartment popped up on the table before her, and she poured all 8,000 chips into it.

“Alright!”

The dealer shouted after seeing Ciel’s full deposit.

“Rise!”

“Now, who would like to take on this ‘young lady’?”

The dealer then looked at Ciel, smiling. “Miss, please remove your mask. Obvious cheating like this is not allowed~”

The dealer’s words caused the gamblers below to erupt into laughter. Under their watchful eyes, Ciel slowly removed her mask.

She sat straight at the gambling table. For a brief two seconds, the room fell into silence.

“Anyone else?”

The dealer called out, “Three consecutive wins will clear your debt. After this week, there might not be such easy matches anymore~!”

“Fuck it, I’ll do it!”

One of the gamblers who had lost 50 pounds earlier gritted his teeth and stepped onto the platform. Many others were already eyeing Ciel with the hunger of wolves spotting fresh meat.

Such a refined noble lady—she must be loaded. Why hadn’t they been the ones to challenge her first?

“Alright! We have our next contestant! Please take your seat and place your bet!”

The dealer smiled at the new gambler.

“Hah, I’ll let her have the first turn.”

The man knew he couldn’t outbid the young lady in front of him, so he simply tossed 50 pounds into the betting box.

It was all he had left—he was here for two reasons: to make a miraculous comeback and to take revenge for his earlier loss.

“Oh?”

The dealer glanced at the gambler’s wager, then looked at Ciel. “Miss, you have the option to reject this bet.”

Reject it? Was her bid at least ten times higher than his?

“Let him play.”

Ciel shook her head.

She didn’t care how much her opponent wagered. What she wanted was first-turn advantage.

And this gambler was the easiest way to secure it.

If she rejected him, someone with deeper pockets might step up and match her wager, forcing a dice roll to determine the first turn.

Rolling dice was Ciel’s weakest option.

“Alright, since our lady insists—place your bets, everyone!”

“Here are the wagers!”

The dealer snapped his fingers.

Eight banners unfurled above the platform, displaying the bet amounts in red ink.

“Baldie”—50 pounds!!!

“Young Lady”—8,000 pounds!!!

The sight of the 8,000-pound banner sent shockwaves through the audience.

Am I seeing things?

Is this real?

8,000?! POUNDS?!

The maximum bet?

The gamblers who had only felt mild regret before now looked like they were about to explode with frustration.

“Shit! 8,000!”

“Damn it! That bastard’s gonna walk away with a free ‘Gambler’ potion!”

“Fifty against eight thousand… Fuck…”

“Any bets?”

The dealer asked the audience.

At that, nearly everyone rushed to bet—on the bald man.

The odds were calculated based on the difference in wagers. Betting on the right side (Ciel) would yield minimal profits, but betting on the left side (Baldie) had sky-high odds.

10:1—the highest payout ratio in Deton Manor.

A 10-pound bet could return 100 pounds. The risk was low, and the reward was massive.

Below the stage, Avena and Adele stared at Ciel, their hearts pounding.

Ciel… What are you trying to do?