"One Hundred and Fifty Gold Coins!"
Hastora calmly placed 150 gleaming gold coins on the gambling table. His sudden action startled the other players, their eyes widening in disbelief.
One of them turned, his brow furrowed. "Ha?... Who are you?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and slight apprehension. "One hundred and fifty gold coins? What's this for?"
"This is my bet," Hastora replied, his voice calm and confident. "Are you game?"
"Sure, if it's just 150 gold coins," the player responded, trying to hide his nervousness. "That's too little. How about 200 gold coins?"
Hearing this, Hastora simply smirked. He took a few more gold coins from his pocket and added them to the table, as if he didn't care about the amount.
"Three hundred gold coins," he said, his voice flat but full of meaning.
"!!!"
The player was stunned. He hadn't expected Hastora to take his joke so seriously. He gritted his teeth, annoyed by Hastora's seemingly dismissive attitude.
"Alright, I accept," he replied, trying to maintain his composure.
The player pulled out a dimensional storage pouch from his pocket and produced 300 gold coins, placing them on the table. "What are we playing?" he asked, a forced smile plastered on his face, trying to hide his nervousness.
"Blackjack," Hastora replied, his eyes radiating a cold light that sent a shiver down his opponent's spine.
"Oh? Blackjack, huh? You're quite bold, kid," the player countered, trying to convince himself that he was still in control. "Dealer!"
A man in a black suit and white gloves approached them. "What will you be playing?" he asked, his voice cold and professional.
"Blackjack, please," Hastora replied, his voice calm and confident.
"Alright, let's begin."
...
In the corner of the smoke-filled room, filled with boisterous laughter, Hastora sat calmly at the Blackjack table. In front of him, a towering pile of gold coins drew attention and covetous glances from the other players.
"The betting is open," said the dealer, a man with long hair and a thick mustache, his voice echoing through the smoky room.
Hastora tossed a single coin to the center of the table, his eyes never leaving the cards laid out before him. "All in," he said casually, as if he didn't care about the amount of his bet.
The other players exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. A man with a dragon tattoo raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowed as if trying to read Hastora's mind. "New kid, quite bold," he muttered, his voice tinged with disdain.
The cards were dealt. Hastora peeked at his cards: 7 of spades and 4 of hearts. Total 11. His gaze was flat, yet full of strategy, as if he'd already calculated all the possible outcomes.
The dealer asked, "Hit or stand?"
"Hit," Hastora replied succinctly, his voice cold and confident.
The dealer dealt a card. King of diamonds.
His total became 21.
The other players began to grow restless. The tattooed man pounded on the table, his voice filled with frustration. "Hit!" he shouted, his eyes glued to the remaining cards.
He took a card... 8. Then 5. Total 23. Bust.
The next player, a woman in a red dress, tried her luck. She took a card... 9, then 10. Total 19. Close, but not enough.
All eyes were on Hastora, who sat calmly, spinning a coin between his fingers, as if unaffected by the tension that filled the room.
The dealer looked at all the players, his voice calm and authoritative. "Anyone else want to take a card?"
Silence.
The dealer revealed his cards: 9 and 7. Total 16. He had to take another card. He drew one...
His total was 22. Bust.
"Game over!" the dealer announced, raising his hand, his voice echoing through the silent room. "The winner... Hastora!"
The table erupted. Some players sighed in frustration, others muttered curses under their breath, unable to accept their defeat. Some stood up and left the table, unable to bear the weight of their loss.
Hastora, still calm and collected, gathered all the coins into his black pouch, as if he were picking up candy. He was unaffected by the defeat of his opponents, as if he had predicted everything that would happen.
The tattooed man couldn't accept it. "You cheated, kid!" he shouted, his voice filled with anger and disbelief.
Hastora looked at him for a moment, his eyes cold and filled with contempt. "If I cheated, your coins would have been mine from the start," he replied calmly, his voice full of confidence.
The man tried to stand up, but tripped and fell to the floor with a loud thud, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger.
Everyone in the room burst into laughter, including the dealer who nearly fell off his chair.
With a casual stride, Hastora stood up, the heavy bag of gold coins in his hand. He didn't rush, as if he had mastered the situation.
Before leaving, he took an apple from the side table, biting into it calmly, as if he didn't care about the chaos that had unfolded around him.
"Play fair next time," he said, his voice cold and laced with a warning, then walked away, leaving Whispered Odds filled with laughter and defeat.
"I won big," he said, holding the heavy bag of gold coins, a small smile playing on his lips.
Hastora was incredibly lucky. His plan to take advantage of the inexperienced players had worked perfectly. He had mastered the game, and no one could stop him.
Twenty thousand years ago, commoners lived in poverty, working hard just to survive. Not working meant death. Hastora, before becoming a Demon Lord, was just an ordinary human born into poverty.
He knew firsthand the pain, betrayal, and humiliation of being treated as trash by the rulers.
Twenty thousand years ago, he was an orphan who worked tirelessly just to make ends meet. He worked as a porter in the royal capital, working from morning till night.
Hastora had to endure a bitter life every day. He was kicked, whipped, and punished by cruel and heartless nobles.
He only ate once a day. He didn't have enough money to buy nutritious food. He ate a piece of bread every day, and had to endure hunger for the rest of the day.
This life continued for 8 years until Hastora turned 18. Nothing changed in those 8 years. Suffering, cruelty, and pain continued to haunt him. His monthly salary was only 30 silver coins, a meager sum.
However, Hastora didn't blame anyone. He had adapted to the cruelty of the world.
Every night, Hastora went to the casino to gamble. He needed extra money to survive.
He always won every game, thanks to his skills in card games. That's why he could easily defeat the players at Whispered Odds earlier.
One day, all the suffering he endured transformed him into a heartless figure who no longer cared about the lives of others.
He began to manipulate those around him for his own gain. He didn't care if they died, were injured, or crippled, as long as his goals were achieved.
'Humans are just tools,' he thought 20,000 years ago. Weak creatures are just pawns for the strong. Life is worthless. The cruel world forced him to feel deep pain.
It was that cruel world that transformed Hastora into a villain. Hastora, who could no longer endure it, decided to become stronger—so strong that no one would dare challenge him.
He began killing monsters, humans, and demons every day. He didn't hesitate, as long as it made him stronger, he would do it.
Hastora even entered high-level gates to become stronger. News of Hastora killing humans, mostly nobles, spread quickly.
Hastora became a wanted criminal in the kingdom, perhaps even the whole world. Anyone who managed to kill him would be rewarded with 50,000 gold coins.
Many people hunted Hastora. They explored forests, caves, deserts, even climbed mountains every day to kill him.
But their efforts were in vain. Hastora always managed to kill them with ease.
News of Hastora's power spread throughout the world. The rulers were reluctant to intervene, they didn't want to waste their energy just to kill a fugitive.
They sent elite royal troops to hunt Hastora. There was no place left for him in this world.
Every night he fought, then ran as far as he could until there was nowhere left to escape.
The desperate situation forced him to use an artifact that could open a gate to another dimension.
Hastora escaped through the gate that opened before him. However, the elite royal troops didn't dare to pursue him.
The gate he entered was a very dangerous gate, the gate to the Demon Realm.
The elite troops who had been chasing Hastora were killed by the rulers after they returned to the kingdom.
Hastora didn't know that he was entering the gate to the Demon Realm. He didn't have time to check because of his desperate situation.
Hastora, who didn't know where to go, just followed the path. He also sometimes killed demons who stood in his way.
News of the human who entered the Demon Realm and killed many demons spread quickly.
Demon troops began to hunt Hastora. There was nowhere left for him, neither in the human realm nor the demon realm.
Hastora often cried every night, 'This world... is truly unfair'. He kept crying about it every night.
Slowly he realized, crying was useless. His anger peaked. 'Kill... Kill... Kill' was all that was on his mind.
Hastora's unstable emotions caused his aura to leak uncontrollably, destroying everything around him.
Hills, trees, and large rocks were destroyed, creating a devastating explosion.
The devastating explosion caused the demon troops to run towards him. When they arrived, no one dared to approach Hastora.
Hastora killed the demons there without leaving a single one alive, a total of 12,000 demons.
Hastora used those souls to evolve into a Demon Lord. His power increased drastically.
He killed all the demons who dared to oppose him, and spared those who didn't dare to oppose him.
He also killed the Demon Lord who led the Demon Realm with ease. This was because the Demon Realm that Hastora entered was the weakest. There are several Demon Realms that are much stronger than that.
After killing the Demon Lord in that Demon Realm, he took the throne and became the new Demon Lord, until finally he was dubbed a tyrant.
...
Hastora clenched his fist, feeling annoyed by his weakness in the past. He was trampled by the nobles and couldn't fight back.
Hastora sighed, he seemed calm again. "In this world, only money, power, and strength matter," he said softly, his voice laced with a cold, bitter tone.
Hastora put both his hands in his pockets, then walked aimlessly, his eyes fixed ahead, as if planning something.
The snow began to fall, ice crystals falling on him.
"Snow?" he said softly, as if he didn't care about the cold snow that enveloped him.
Gradually, the snow became heavier, making Hastora feel a little cold. He decided to stop for a while in front of a shop, seeking shelter from the cold snow.
Cold.
Hastora created a large cloak that covered his entire body, making him look like a mysterious shadow.
"This is much warmer."
Many people continued to work despite the heavy snowfall. They wore thick jackets, scarves, gloves, and knitted hats to keep warm.
They didn't even seem cold. They went about their activities as usual, as if unaffected by the cold weather.
While watching the snow, Hastora saw two people walking near the shop where he was taking shelter. They were talking about something important, their voices barely audible over the sound of the wind.
"You know the academy entrance exam is tomorrow, right?"
"Ha? Tomorrow? Wasn't it two days from now?"
"It was, but it was changed this afternoon."
"How did you know?"
"News. I get news pretty quickly."
"Eh? How can you get news that fast?"
"Secret."
Hastora was surprised when he learned that the academy entrance exam was tomorrow. He had missed the news.
"Since when? I have to find a place to stay quickly."
Hastora left the shop and looked for a place to stay.
"Where is it?"
Hastora ran through the capital to find a place to stay. He had run here and there, but couldn't find any lodgings.
"Damn it."
Because the snow was getting heavier, Hastora ran back to the shop where he had taken shelter earlier.
Upon arriving, he sat down, his body cold.
"I could freeze if I keep this up."
Hastora created a large dark cloth, then wrapped it around his body.
"This is much better."
Hastora sat leaning against the front of the shop, watching the snow fall.
"It's getting colder."
The dark cloth couldn't warm him. He stood up and decided to enter the shop.
"Ha?"
Inside, many people were relaxing, enjoying their dinner.
"What kind of shop is this?"
Hastora stepped further inside. He saw several people climbing the stairs to the upper floor.
"Could it be?"
It turned out, it wasn't a shop, but an inn. Hastora was happy. He immediately ordered a room.
"I'll take one room, just for one night," Hastora said, handing over 1 gold coin.
"Eh?... That's too much, Sir. The cost of lodging for one night is only 10 silver coins."
"Just take it. I don't have any change."
"K—Alright then... Okay, Sir. Here's your key—room 43. And thank you for your generosity."
Hastora took the key and climbed the stairs one by one to the upper floor.
Upon arriving, he immediately searched for room 43. He looked at the numbers written on each room door until he finally reached number 43.
"Here it is."
Hastora opened the door to the room, then stepped inside. The room was simple, perfect for him. He locked the door and jumped onto the bed.
"This is so comfortable."
Hastora rolled around on the bed for a while, enjoying the warmth of the bed after a long day of activity.
"Warm... I should go to sleep soon."
Hastora took a blanket and wrapped it around himself. He closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep, like a bear hibernating.
To be continued in the next chapter…