Captivated by the Ruler of the Underworld
Chapter 157 Sylvester's Sarcasm

The tournament was held in the center of the casino, in its grandest hall. There wasn't a variety of fancy gimmicks to the event other than the reigning champion, the order of the other contestants was determined by a random draw. Lela, the current champion who dethroned the previous titleholder, which was precisely why the Grape Casino had extended a special invitation for her participation. Sylvester was seated in the front row with Prince Charles of Country Y to his right.

Perhaps due to their royal lineage, members of Country Y's royal family were notably attractive. Charles, for example, possessed fair skin and deep-set features.

Charles, the brother of the Welsh, marketed their brotherly bond abroad, which the people of Country Y found deeply gratifying.

However, Charles's influence had grown even more significant after marrying the most prestigious diplomat from a renowned family in Country Y. His reputation was now on the verge of eclipsing that of the King of Wales.

As the two men conversed, Sylvester seemed indifferent, responding only occasionally.

Prince Charles turned, his green eyes fixed on Sylvester. "Mr. Gomez, who do you think will come out on top this time?"

Charles, with his strong diplomatic skills, naturally spoke the language of Pliar country fluently.

Sylvester, lightly touching the ring on his left thumb, replied, "I'm surprised that Prince Charles has taken an interest in the gambling arts of Pliar country."

With a genteel smile, Charles responded, "There's a saying in Pilar country-'take the essence and discard the dregs.' Gambling has been a part of Pliar's history until now, suggesting it must be the essence. I've always been fascinated by this essence."

Whether his words were sarcastic or sincere was ambiguous, leaving Sylvester uncertain how to respond.

Sylvester chuckled coolly, "Pliar country is vast and profound; there's no shortage of refined aspects to appreciate."

This comment piqued Charles's interest, his green eyes sparkling, "Oh? Do tell, I'm all ears."

Releasing his ring, Sylvester tapped on the couch rhythmically, his tone crisp with a hint of sarcasm that only a careful listener could detect, "The Prince might want to delve deeper into the culture-it could be enlightening." Prince Charles had thrown a veiled jab at Pilar country, and Sylvester had countered with another, leaving him rather perplexed.

Prince Charles took it seriously, though, nodding earnestly.

Sylvester's lips curved in a silent smirk.

Mildred Gomez listened, completely confused by the conversation around her.

Backstage, Lela donned a black buzzcut wig, dressed in a baggy black hoodie and pants, with Doc Martens on her feet. She lounged on a leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other, her right hand revealing a slender wrist resting on the armrest, her piercing eyes fixated on the electronic screen in front of her. The screen was showing a live feed of the competition, where the dealer, dressed in an elegant black gown, her figure shapely and her fingers deft, shuffled and dealt the cards with fluid grace.

Lily, holding a glass of red wine, walked up to Lela and leaned against the sofa where Lela sat. Thinking about the information she had gathered outside, she said, "By the way, Lady Phoenix, did you know the bets are piling up behind the scenes on you and another contender?"

Lela raised an eyebrow. "Betting on who?"

Lily flicked her hair, irritation lacing her voice. "A bunch of idiots. There's this foreigner, Yaz, competing, who's never lost internationally. The bets are heavily on him." After a sip of her wine, she declared, "I'm not with the idiots. I bet on you winning."