Chapter 162 · Volume 1

You Can't Do It Either!

Wait, what?
What do you mean your money has a use?
So, what, does my money just blow in with the wind?!
The smile on George’s face froze instantly.
At this moment, he was grinding his molars so hard they were about to shatter. He really wanted to abandon all gentlemanly decorum, jump up, grab Elias by the collar, and shout his questions at him.
However, the boisterous atmosphere and the gazes of the girls had effectively forced him onto a pedestal he couldn't step down from.
He had already started boasting; how could he back down now?
He could only take a deep breath and force out a smile that looked more painful than crying.
Obediently, he reached into his suit pocket again to pull out more money.
But while he was reaching for the coins...
His self-consolation mechanism immediately kicked in, frantically whispering to his heart:
It’s fine!
The stingier this penniless sailor is, the more it highlights my own lavish generosity!
This dashing act of casually paying for the ladies will surely be a winning move that earns me massive points in their eyes!
Meanwhile, as soon as Elias made his righteous "freeloader’s declaration"...
Not only did George’s expression turn as sour as if he’d swallowed a dead fly.
Even the eyes of the three girls nearby momentarily took on a peculiar glint.
Charlotte stood to the side, barely containing her laughter.
She knew her brother too well.
She was perfectly aware that this was simply a case of that damned competitive streak between men at work.
However, she really couldn't understand why this George—who didn't seem particularly bright—insisted on picking a fight with her brother.
At the very least, based on this alone, Charlotte had already mentally sentenced George to social death, disqualifying him entirely.
Was he joking?
When did the Rocklands ever allow an outsider to flaunt themselves in their faces?
Besides...
She absolutely did not believe her brother would lose.
A desk worker like George, who spent every day sitting in a government office drinking afternoon tea in the warmth...
Even if he had spent some money in his spare time to learn a few flashy boxing moves...
How could he possibly compare in strength to a sailor who fought for his life every day on the raging seas?
Wasn't he just asking for a beating?
Furthermore...
You, George, were the one who initiated this boring contest.
Since you wanted to show off, isn't it only right that you pay for everyone?
On the other side, Mary and Victoria were clearly not on the same wavelength as Charlotte.
At that moment, the same thought rose in both their minds:
How can this handsome guy named Elias be so stingy?!
Since you were gentlemanly and considerate enough to ask the ladies if they wanted to play...
Wouldn't paying the mere five Fenny yourself have been a better way to showcase your perfect gentlemanly grace?
But look at you.
One moment you're being attentive, and the next you're shamelessly sticking George with the bill!
This is so off-putting!
As for Mary...
Although she had previously thought Elias was very handsome and his monthly salary of twenty-four gold crowns was indeed impressively high...
His dangerous profession as a sailor was ultimately a hurdle she couldn't get over.
Now, Elias’s stingy behavior of "offering a gift at another's expense" undoubtedly solidified her prejudice.
What did it matter if he earned a lot?
He was nothing but a pretty face!
You clearly wanted to show off your gentlemanly side, yet you shamelessly let someone else’s brother foot the bill?
This behavior was completely illogical and unreasonable!
However, all the rich inner monologues of the girls were within Elias’s precise calculations!
This was one of the fundamental reasons why he had said those words!
In essence, his most urgent need right now was to quickly rid himself of Victoria’s persistent, pink-hued infatuation.
What exactly did she like about him?
Couldn't he just change it?!
As long as he dropped his mask slightly and revealed some off-putting, stingy, and shameless flaws...
It would definitely be like dousing her love-struck brain with a bucket of ice water, helping her cool down a bit.
Besides...
It wasn't like he was the one crying and begging for a contest.
Since this vainglorious peacock insisted on sticking his face out to be slapped...
What was wrong with making him bleed a little cash to buy himself a lesson?
Moreover, this negligible loss of money wouldn't cause any real impact on a self-proclaimed middle-class elite like George.
In a moment, he was going to deliver a harsh metaphorical slap to the man's face in front of everyone.
Letting him adjust to the sting now...
Was actually a form of mercy!
Yes.
That was it.
The most important point was...
Elias had long since seen through the tricks behind this broken machine using his 【Moon Vision】.
On the streets of the Kingdom of Velen...
These so-called mini-games were collectively known as "trick stalls."
This was because nine times out of ten, they were used to swindle drunks and suckers!
The so-called "Strongman Power Meter" before him was a classic example of customer gouging.
As a modern person who had seen too many scams like ring toss, balloon popping, and rigged claw machines in the night markets of his previous life...
Elias was incredibly sensitive to these kinds of deceptive tactics.
Beyond that rugged metal casing...
Wasn't this essentially just a street-side pinball gambling device wrapped in a steampunk skin?
It looked a bit more intimidating than a wooden box...
But the core logic of the fraud was exactly the same!
Elias would bet the noisy old man talking in his head on it.
The core spring inside this machine, connected to the scoring needle, had definitely been tampered with by the owner!
No matter how much strength the player swung with...
That needle would always stop just before reaching the "payout line."
It would always be just a tiny bit short!
Only when the owner saw the time was right and secretly pressed a hidden pressure release lever with his toe...
Would the needle then naturally "reach the mark."
Of course...
This generous situation usually only happened under one specific condition—
When the "shill" arranged by the owner came up to give a demonstration!
Clink.
Accompanied by the crisp sound of a coin hitting the box.
Although George was full of reluctance, he still paid for Victoria.
The contest officially began.
The two men, secretly competing, reached a rare moment of tacit understanding.
Both stepped back and made a gentlemanly "after you" gesture, letting Victoria go first.
Victoria took a deep breath.
She shed her cumbersome coat, revealing her fair arms.
Walking up to the heavy cowhide punching bag target, she swung a punch with all her might.
Thud!
A dull sound.
The weight inside the glass tube only made a symbolic jump upward, failing to even touch the edge of the first scale before falling back powerlessly.
No one was surprised by this result where nothing happened.
Instead, everyone reacted with a great deal of understanding and good-natured laughter.
Of course.
If a delicate girl could win the prize money with a casual punch...
This owner would have gone bankrupt and jumped off a building long ago; how would he have the leisure to set up a stall here?
Seeing this dismal result...
George frowned and decisively stepped forward, beginning to question the machine's authenticity:
“Boss, is your machine too tight?”
“It’s probably impossible to hit it up there, isn't it?”
Hearing George’s doubt...
The owner didn't get angry; instead, he immediately put on a wronged and aggrieved expression.
He pretended to be casual as he turned and shouted toward the other side of the street.
He called over a burly man who was munching on an apple and looked like an ordinary "passerby."
“Hey! Buddy!”
The owner greeted loudly:
“This gentleman in the suit suspects there’s something wrong with my machine.”
“Come over and give him a quick demonstration!”
The passerby didn't hesitate.
He walked up and, without even warming up...
Swung his hand casually!
Boom!
Accompanied by the hiss of air pressure...
The needle in the glass tube instantly soared like a rocket, easily breaking past the second scale!
Ding-a-ling!
The brass bell representing a win immediately rang out clearly.
The owner smilingly fished two Shilling coins from the cash box and handed them to the passerby.
The plot unfolded exactly as Elias had predicted in his mind, without the slightest deviation.
This seamless double act...
Caused the surrounding onlookers to praise the owner’s honesty.
George was left staring in dazed wonder.
Not only were his doubts dispelled, but he also began to feel eager to try.
Even a random passerby can easily hit two Shillings.
As an elite with professional boxing training, shouldn't I be able to just break the machine and take that one gold crown grand prize?!
George stepped forward with overflowing confidence.
He spread his legs, assuming a standard boxing stance.
He took a deep breath.
Concentrating all his strength into his right fist...
He used every ounce of his strength, the veins on his neck bulging and his face turning beet red!
With a low roar like a bull in heat!
He swung a heavy punch!
Bang!!!
The dull impact caused the surrounding crowd to go silent for a moment.
Everyone’s eyes were glued to the soaring needle.
Unfortunately, the needle carrying all of George’s hopes for showing off stopped just a hair’s breadth away from the first level scale!
Then, it fell ruthlessly back to the starting point.
Looking at the result, the expression on George’s face was spectacular.
It went from anticipation to shock, and finally to shame and fury!
“Oh my!”
The owner immediately approached, his face filled with hypocritical regret as he offered consolation:
“Could it be that the gentleman isn't in top form today?”
“I saw your posture just now was very professional; you were just a tiny bit away!”
The owner rubbed his hands persuasively:
“Would you like to pay another five Fenny, adjust your breathing, and try again?”
Faced with this blatant provocation and mockery...
George completely lost his composure.
His face turned the color of pig liver as he pointed at the machine and roared in anger:
“I say your piece of junk machine has a problem!”
“It’s definitely broken!”
To reclaim the dignity he had lost in front of the girls...
He spun around.
As if grabbing onto a final lifeline, he glared at Elias, who had been standing by watching the show.
In a nearly hysterical tone, he shouted loudly:
“You do it!”
“Even if you try, you'll get the same result!”
Faced with George’s frantic accusation and challenge...
Elias slowly pulled his hands out of his trench coat pockets.
The corners of his mouth curled up slightly.
“Oh?”

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