[ – 2714 USD ]
That number.
That cursed number.
Forever burned into the back of my mind — a memory, a scar, a trauma.
Not from war.
Not from loss.
But from watching one girl casually eat enough desserts to empty an entire town's savings.
I'll never be the same again.
"What's wrong?" Ekaterina asked, soft and curious — the kind of voice that makes you want to answer honestly and then regret it in five seconds.
She stared at me with that calm, unreadable face of hers. Completely oblivious to the fact that she'd just devoured a mountain of chocolate and sugar worth way more than common sense.
"...Nothing," I said flatly.
We stepped out of the dessert shop. Rome stretched around us in sunlit marble and laughter — tourists snapping pictures, vendors shouting, people who hadn't just watched two thousand dollars walk out the door on legs.
A couple hurried past, the girl tugging the boy by his sleeve.
"Darling, hurry! Or we'll miss the new gladiator show at the Colosseum!" she cried, then melted into the crowd.
I froze in mid-step.
Gladiator show?
"...Oh, shit. I totally forgot about that!"
"Gladiator?" Ekaterina tilted her head, still licking the fork like it was the last thing keeping her alive.
"Just—follow me." I grabbed her hand before she could finish her bite and started dragging her toward the Colosseum.
◇◇◇
About twenty-five minutes later we stood before the Colosseum. It was exactly like the photos — colossal, pitted with time, haloed in sunlight — and somehow better in person.
"Kylen, what are we doing here? There's a place that teaches you to make your own pasta nearby. Let's go there!" she whined, pulling on my sleeve.
I let go of her hand and stepped into the shadowed archway. "You're on your own."
Ekaterina blinked, baffled by how quickly I'd switched personality. She hesitated, then followed, pouting like a kid who'd lost a toy.
"You were the one who chose to follow me here," I said over my shoulder. "Don't act like you're mad."
She shut up and avoided my eyes. While she sulked, I scanned the crowd and found a guy hawking a ridiculous, oversized bag of popcorn.
***
Munch. Munch. Munch.
"Are you still mad at me?" I asked.
"No."
Well, at least she's taken care of.
Now, let's become rich.
The reason I came to the Colosseum was simple — to bet everything I had on the winner and turn my wallet into a fortune.
Or, in simpler terms… gambling.
I hadn't really made use of my knowledge from the game until now, but this—this was my moment to shine.
"...I'll show you that gambling was the right way, sister," I muttered under my breath.
A grin crept across my face.
"Kekeke…"
Ekaterina, who had already eaten her way through the first bag of popcorn, turned to look at me with a concerned expression.
...Is he right in the head?
◇◇◇
At the Colosseum, a VIP room floated lazily above the arena — built so that its guests could enjoy the best possible view of the battles below.
Inside, Elana and several noble youths lounged around, watching the gladiators clash while chatting idly among themselves.
"…Hahahah! I win again! Now pay up!" shouted one of the nobles, grinning as the gladiator he'd bet on landed the final blow.
"T–that's impossible!" another stammered, disbelief on his face.
"That's just how the world works," the victor replied smugly. "Now pay the price."
"Fine," the losing noble muttered, reluctantly handing over a high-grade elixir to the winner
Elana sighed as she watched the young noble pass over the elixir. As the eldest daughter of House Herana, she was showered with love—especially from her father.
For all his stoic pride and cold demeanor, her father always found time to teach her what it meant to be a true Herana.
The Herana had fought in countless battles throughout history. No matter how hopeless the fight, they always joined it.
That stubbornness had long since turned into a family habit—one they carried into peacetime.
Gambling.
Elana watched as the defeated gladiator was dragged from the arena. Her gaze shifted to the towering stacks of gold coins beside her—over 1.2 billion dollars' worth. Yet to her, it was nothing more than pocket change.
"Lady Elana, this is the fourth time you've won a gamble today!" one of the girls beside her said, bowing nearly ninety degrees. "I never doubted you for a second—and I'm truly grateful you let me bet on the same gladiator."
"That was a given," Elana replied, puffing out her chest, pride filling her expression. "Just who do you think I am?"
Just then, the door behind them burst open. Carts upon carts filled with gold coins were rolled in by attendants.
In the Colosseum, those who wanted to gamble had to convert their wealth into a standardized currency—coins, simple and easy to count.
Coin Value System:
1. Copper Coin = $100
2. Bronze Coin = $1000
3. Iron Coin = 1,000,000
3. Silver Coin = $10,000,000
4. Gold Coin = $100,000,000
The attendants dumped the coins beside the grand throne at the center of the room—reserved for the most important guest possible.
Moments later, the door opened again.
A student stepped inside, wearing the standard Atlas Academy uniform. His bangs were long enough to cover his eyes, and his height was unremarkable—neither tall nor short.
Kylen Noor.
And beside him stood one of the Academy's top 10 students—Ekaterina Volkhova.
They walked across the room and sat at the throne.
Kylen took the seat first, while Ekaterina casually sat on his lap, quietly eating a large bowl of gelato as if nothing were strange about it.
Kylen glanced around the room—and froze when his eyes met Elana's.
He immediately turned his head toward the arena, pretending to be invested in the match below.
Elana narrowed her eyes, watching him closely. When she saw his lips move toward Ekaterina's ear, she focused her aura, sharpening her hearing to catch his words.
"Katya," Kylen whispered, sweat forming on his temple, "can you get off me? Our friend's glaring at us."
"This is my way of showing that we're close."
Kylen thought:
*Isn't our relationship growing too fast?
To Be Continued...