"Every time, how is winning even possible?"

Mr. Hansen shrugged and answered, "That's why he's always here. I remember about three years ago, an Adventure Group managed to get a very rare Cursed Potion that could bring about chronic misfortune. The Adventurer who drank the potion and Ghost Jeffrey tied for seventeen rounds with the lowest possible rolls, and in the end, by just a hair's breadth, lost with a slightly higher roll in the eighteenth round."

While he was speaking, the other members of the Adventure Group also went up in turn to gamble against Ghost Jeffrey, but as he had said, everyone quickly 'fell' in defeat.

"Does everyone have to roll?" Fang Hong then asked.

"Every person who wants to enter the mission line must, and the outcome determines which rooms the jinx assigns you."

"The rooms are also different?"

"Yes," Mr. Hansen's complexion turned slightly ugly, as if recalling some unbearable memories. "The mission of the 'Steadfast Martyr's Mark' begins at midnight, and those who wish to join must stay in the rooms assigned by Ghost Jeffrey before that. These rooms—"

He paused, then added, "In their own rooms, everyone will see certain things. Some are clues related to the mission, others are visions of unclear significance. However, it's said that so far, no two people have witnessed the same thing."

"Has Mr. Hansen seen something?" Fang Hong asked curiously upon seeing his face.

Unexpectedly, the balding man's face changed, and he replied a bit palely, "Let's not talk about it. In any case, let me give you a piece of advice: don't roll the dice too high; otherwise, you'll certainly have a profound memory of it."

Atira was the first to interject, "Will there be any danger?"

"Danger?" Mr. Hansen shook his head. "Not exactly, but... well, it's a long story."

Meanwhile, two more had fallen, unable to stand it any longer. Finally, Tianlan stepped forward, full of righteousness, and declared loudly, "Enough with these tricks, watch me!"

As she spoke, the French girl swung her hand grandly and tossed all the dice into the air with great boldness.

"Sister Fuli's luck has always been great," Gita couldn't help but say upon seeing this. "She's never lost at dice games at Traveler's Rest before."

Fang Hong then came to a realization. No wonder she was so impulsive—it was all to maintain the dignity of Europeans.

But before the words were out, the dice hung suspended in mid-air, prompting an incredulous gasp from everyone. They saw that all the dice showed sixes on top, without a single exception.

A perfect thirty-six points, not one less—

Everyone looked strangely at the French girl, who cried out in dismay, "Ah—" Tianlan was about to faint.

Only Parker burst out laughing, "Hahaha, see? That's the 'Salt Fish Lance,' the seal's punishment—justice is never absent, just occasionally late!"

Angered by his words, the French girl kicked him out. Clearly, the Papalarians had not learned their lesson and were sent tumbling unprepared, screaming as they flew out.

Unluckily, Little Fatty, waving his hands in panic, happened to knock the dice still hanging in the air.

All the dice scattered in mid-air and then came together again.

And Parker 'thumped' onto the ground like a sack of potatoes, turning over to look up at the scene before crying out in the same dismay as Tianlan, "Ah—"

Because he saw that all six sides displayed a six, looking straight at him.

A chorus of perfectly synchronized gasps made him pause, and looking up, he finally realized—lying on the ground with all sixes facing him meant they all showed ones, didn't it?

"Ha!" The unexpected discovery immediately made the Papalarian proud again. Just as he was about to get up and say something to Tianlan, at that very moment, Ghost Jeffrey slowly extended his hand to grab the dice and threw them.

When the dust settled,

All present couldn't help but look at Little Fatty lying on the ground with the same expression as if they had seen a ghost, each cursing silently in their heads. This short expletive, translated into Earth's languages, would be almost the same—

"Fuck!"

In mid-air—

Five ones, and a two.

...

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