“Eat… eat what?!”

King Alex and the King of Elusen spoke in unison, voices colliding like two swords striking in midair.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t heard. The wager loomed like a mountain shadow; it was so big it brushed against statecraft.

A king is a nation’s face. Make a king do that, and you grind a country’s dignity into the mud like a boot on wet clay.

“Are you serious…” King Alex’s voice turned cold as frost on a blade.

If the three of them accepted willingly and wouldn’t use it as a spark for war, that would be the best wind that could blow.

But… would they really keep their hands off the tinder?

“Relax, I’m joking. If you don’t want it, we drop it. But for the record, paying up on a bet is etched in my DNA.”

—Right. Treat it as a passing jest, like a cloud breaking around the sun.

Alex reached for the step Gill had laid down, ready to walk off the stage and let the waters still.

“Then we’ll just—”

“Then we’ll take your challenge head-on!”

Dorado yanked the words like a fisherman hauling a net, twisting the meaning midair and dragging Alex into the river with him.

“N-no… I don’t—”

“All right. Since everyone agrees, let’s begin~” Gill’s tone lilted like a cat’s tail flicking.

Alex knew the state of his country like a farmer watching a withered field. Call it worry or cowardice, he just wouldn’t accept this.

The Moser Empire couldn’t take a storm like this; its walls were already weathered by too much rain.

An old man can’t out-wrestle two youths; a steady flame dims before two fresh torches.

“Then we start with Dorado. Each time window must be at least half an hour. And don’t guess five or six days—that’d be dull as standing water.”

“Fine. I’ll bet… between half an hour and one hour. On foot, they’re about an hour out. By car, they’re ten minutes. So half to one hour feels safe.”

“Good. And you, old man?” Gill’s look was a hook cast with a smile.

“I… I…” Alex’s words tangled like reeds in a stream.

“Hurry up. A king who dawdles looks like a banner gone slack in the wind.”

He wanted to shout, I’m being forced! But if he balked now, the whispers would spread like dandelion seeds.

So be it. For the Moser Empire. To pull the empire through this lean season, he would be the one to eat the bitter herb.

“Then… I’ll bet one to two hours. I gave Alicia’s group a car. They’ll drive over for sure…”

In truth, he hadn’t. After founding the Mystic Realm, Alicia hardly touched a steering wheel; like cranes on old paths, they mostly walked.

Could he really choke it down? For the country, it’s just one mouthful of hardship—swallow and let it burn like pepper.

“Very good. The old man picks one hour out to two. Dorado has half to one. As for me—my bet is they won’t arrive within the next half hour.”

“Hm? Why are you so sure?” Dorado’s brows knit, a bowstring drawn tight.

She trusted her math like stars set in a clear night. Alex said they’d drive—how could they be slow?

Don’t tell me… this whole game was just his excuse to make someone eat crap?

“Dorado! Don’t look at me like I’m some deviant under a lantern.”

“But you…”

“Hmph. You think I came unprepared? Before I said a word, I posted men in the shade to stop any car.

If Alicia’s vehicle shows, someone steps out and blocks it. At least half an hour lost—enough to keep my shore dry.

If they don’t drive, then like you said, they’ll need about an hour on foot. Either way, I’m safe as a rock under the eaves.”

Dorado saw the trick at once. She’d been played, but she was just as safe; her calm settled like dust after a gust.

People aren’t bound by kindness like vines on a trellis. Caught off guard, you admit it and stand straight, not squall like a child.

As for Alex, a strange ease spread through him like warm tea. This way, he alone would likely be the one to eat crap.

His pride would scrape on stone, sure—but no one would know. If swallowing this could spare the empire a crisis, a king could drink that bitter cup.

“All right, we’ve locked our times, yes? Final check: if they show within someone’s window, whoever guesses right eats crap. Agreed?”

“No problem.”

“I… have no problem.”

Dorado answered at once. Alex hesitated, then let out a breath like a long sigh through pines and nodded.

“Good. Then the clock… starts!”

Gill’s palm slammed the table, a sharp clap like a switch thrown, setting invisible gears in motion.

Cold sweat beaded on Alex like dew on slate. Dorado wore a mask of indifference, a lake without ripples. Gill smiled, a hunter in control of the snares.

Each held their own tides of thought. Only Ling, eavesdropping outside, didn’t know what this gamble threatened to drown.

Her hand rested on the doorknob, cold as a coiled snake.

Ling chose to wait. She waited for a perfect beat, the drumstroke that would fling hearts up and dash them down.