Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat - Chapter 258

Chapter 258: The Long Con
Markham let out a roar of laughter before whipping off the lid of the table. With a theatrical flourish, he conjured a scrappy cloth pouch out of thin air and swept his arms wide.

With a swift scoop, he raked every single betting card on the table straight into the bag.

This time, he’d hit the jackpot.

His grin was so wide it nearly split his face in two, while the people who had wagered on him stood there looking like they’d just attended their own funerals. Pale as paper—some were even groaning out of sheer frustration.

What the hell just happened?

A single match dragged on for over two hours?

They’d stood around the whole time just watching, doing nothing useful.

And in the end? They still lost.

None of them had even realized how much time had passed. Every eye had been locked on that board, captivated by the ruthless elegance of every move. Not one person had broken free of the spell.

Ethan and Evelyn walked over to where Markham was still shoving cards into his bag like a man possessed.

The two of them just stared.

Markham looked up, flashing a toothy grin. “What’d I tell ya? We’re easily landing top fifty this round, huh?”

With that mountain of cards, even Ethan was speechless. He could only mutter inwardly, ‘Hell, with this haul, first place wouldn’t be a stretch…’

BOOM!

A burst of confetti cannon fire rang out, officially marking the end of the Academic Duel.

Without waiting, Markham grabbed Ethan and Evelyn, dragging them toward a hidden corner by the side gate of the compound.

Rounding the bend, Ethan spotted two figures already waiting in the shadows.

He recognized them instantly. They were the two players who had been locked in battle over the board just moments ago—Bobby and the nameless player.

The pair were chatting casually, grinning like idiots.

But what happened next nearly knocked Ethan off his feet.

That proud, arrogant Bobby—the one who’d eliminated a guy earlier just for disrespecting the game—was now rubbing his hands together like a lackey, practically beaming at Markham.

“Boss,” Bobby said, grinning, “how’d we do? That performance was top tier, right?”

Next to him, the icy, demeanor of the unnamed player had vanished. Now, he stood there hunched and grinning like a sycophant. “Boss, that dreamstate illusion match we ran—pretty convincing, yeah?”

Markham chuckled darkly and gave a slow nod. “Oh, it was fantastic. Had the whole crowd hypnotized. Over two hours gone in a blink.”

He paused, then added with a smirk, “But… your acting was a bit stiff. Especially you, Bobby. Taking the guy out was fine, but that line you added— ‘Disrespect the game and you die’? C’mon. Too cheesy.”

Hearing that, the unnamed player straightened up with new energy. “See? Told ya! I said it was too much. You shouldn’t have added that line after taking me out.”

“Uh…” Bobby scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

Gone was the cold, aloof master. What stood there now was just a dopey-looking guy with zero pride.

Ethan finally understood.

So that guy who “died” earlier? That had just been a setup. The one who “died” was the same guy now grinning like an idiot.

“All right, all right,” Markham said, waving them in closer. “Let me do introductions. That’s Bobby and Rook.”

“And this here is Big Bro Ethan. He’s the one funding our breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

He gestured to Evelyn, hesitating.

“…And she’s… uh…”

“She’s Evelyn,” Ethan filled in.

“Big Bro! Ma’am!” the two said in unison, bowing in sync like well-trained minions.

Ethan was stunned.

He quickly pulled the two goons upright and waved them off. “She’s my friend,” he explained, motioning toward Evelyn. “So quit with the ‘ma’am’ stuff before she throws hands.”

Evelyn huffed and raised her fist in warning. The two guys shrank back immediately.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s hit the front gate, check the rankings, then share up the loot.”

At the board, the current first-place player had managed to collect a grand total of thirty-two cards.

The group exchanged glances.

That’s it?

Nearly half the onlookers in the Chess Zone had ended up betting at their table. Now, Markham’s bag was bursting with over seven hundred cards.

And that was after accounting for the fact that the Chess Zone was the least crowded section.

If this stunt had gone down in any other zone, the haul might’ve doubled.

The problem was time. Each round had a strict three-hour cap. If you matched with a worthy opponent, a single game could stretch for ages.

But usually, it never came to that. Most matches wrapped up quick. After a few moves, both players could already size each other up.

Rather than wasting time, someone would concede or call a judge.

It wasn’t an official rule, but any match dragging over ten minutes would get a referee’s intervention—who’d then evaluate based on board dynamics and call it.

So everyone went all-in with their best openings, playing speed chess. If you didn’t make a move within three seconds? Automatic loss.

Except their match… well, their ref got pulled into the illusion Markham’s team had crafted—”dreamstate array” and all. By the time two hours had flown by, the guy still hadn’t called time.

When they finally reached the front gate, they spotted Ryan and Leeroy hovering there, both wearing matching looks of disappointment. They were clearly waiting on Ethan and the others.

Markham strolled up like he owned the place and threw an arm around Ryan. “Yo, bro, how’d it go? Top fifty?”

“Top fifty my ass. Don’t get me started.”

Ryan sighed. “We were at the Music Zone. Just killing time, scoping out some pretty girls. Then this guy started a betting table…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Markham blinked. Ethan looked over with a weird expression. “Wait. You guys got wiped?”

“Wiped?” Leeroy scoffed. “We barely placed a bet and the guy running the odds got busted. Some judge just walked up and bam—palm to the chest, dude died on the spot.”

“Every single betting card got confiscated. They even made an announcement: anyone caught opening unauthorized bets gets executed on the spot.”

Ethan turned to look at Markham.

Markham just shrugged, completely unfazed.

Someone had apparently copied Markham’s little scheme in the Music Zone… and gotten killed for it.

“Bro,” Markham said with a sheepish grin, “you can’t say the money wasn’t well spent. I’ve got overhead to cover.”

Ethan just nodded, speechless. His assessment of Markham quietly ticked up another notch.

Seeing Ryan and Leeroy standing there, heads low, Markham clapped them both on the back. “Don’t worry, Ethan’s treating today. You’re both making the top fifty—guaranteed.”

Once the match sessions wrapped up, everyone lined up to submit their cards and await final rankings.

Even the player in first place had only racked up a few dozen.

Markham handed the pouch to Ethan. With a flick of his wrist, Ethan passed out a hundred cards to each of the crew. The rest? He kept for himself.

When they reached the front gate and submitted their cards, their group of seven immediately drew the attention of the stats officers.

But none of them said a word.

A little while later, everyone gathered back at the arena.

The head of the Langford family took the finalized rankings from the judges and stepped onto the platform.

Without preamble, he began announcing the top fifty contestants.

“For the top fifty in the Tournament of strategy beginning with number fifty…”

He read from bottom to top.

“Number twelve, Dominic Zane… with forty-seven cards.”

A soft murmur rippled through the crowd.

Forty-seven cards? That’s only twelfth place?

The announcer froze for a second, flipping to the last page and staring at the top name. His eyes widened.

“Number eleven… Bryan, with fifty-one cards.”

At that, both Dominic and Bryan stood up, stunned.

Bryan even shouted, “That’s impossible!”

No way. No way he wasn’t in the top ten.