Seeing the hard-to-read smile on Leon's face, Iris quickly forced herself to calm down.
For a moment just now, she really had been drawn in by that tempting amount.
But thinking it through—despite being a long-lived race, her total assets still hadn't even exceeded 150 gold coins.
Sure, a big part of that was because she'd spent a lot searching for her mother, who had been missing for years—but still. She was a third-tier expert, and a pure-blood elf!
She arched a long, elegant eyebrow.
"How do you prove a first-rank court mage like you can produce that kind of money? As far as I know, a first-rank court mage only earns fifty silver a month. Or are you saying your quasi-baron relatives managed to save up that much?"
In the economic system of the Kingdom of Holsha, the lowest currency was copper, then silver, then gold, then white gold.
The exchange rate between each tier hovered around 1 to 100.
With two copper coins, you could buy a commoner's staple food in the royal capital—black bread.
Which meant a single gold coin was roughly equal to five thousand portions of black bread!
One hundred gold coins was an enormous sum. For a rural noble's son to claim he had that kind of cash was about as believable as someone bragging they could go ten-plus rounds in one night.
Faced with Iris's skepticism, Leon didn't waver. He kept that same easy smile.
"Then, Miss Iris—if I can provide proof, are you willing to take the bet?"
"Sure."
Iris brushed aside her light-blue bangs, calm and unhurried. She genuinely wanted to see what tricks a mere first-ranker thought he could pull.
Leon extended his hand and made a slow circle in front of her. Then, as if performing a magic trick, he produced a cheque stamped with an eagle-head crest and held it up before her.
The palm-sized cheque had a very distinctive texture and patterning—clearly not something ordinary.
"Go ahead and inspect it, Miss Iris."
Iris narrowed her eyes at it, then her expression shifted into surprise.
"A one-hundred-gold, instantly redeemable cheque from the Royal Capital Second Bank? And the magical seal is real?"
Leon said, "So—are you done checking, Miss Iris?"
"You can put it away. Since you've proven your stake, I'll take the bet."
That was what Iris said, but deep in her eyes, suspicion and caution had thickened.
At this point, Leon truly seemed prepared. It made her uneasy—like she might have stepped into some kind of trap without realizing it.
Had she been hit by a curse or hypnosis the moment she found herself drawn to him, subtly manipulating her behavior?
But she was a pure-blood elf, with exceptionally high resistances. If someone tried something like that, she should have sensed it immediately.
So… was it just coincidence?
Or was he actually a mage who knew divination—someone rare, with two extraordinary professions?
Thinking that, Iris asked, "With your background and position, how did you end up with a hundred gold?"
Leon smiled, showing no intention of explaining where the cheque came from.
"I trust Miss Iris's character. You may hold onto this cheque for now. After midnight, if I win, then I'll ask you to return the cheque to me—and also prepare one hundred gold coins. How does that sound?"
He offered the cheque to Iris.
She stared at it, then took it.
"You're really bold, handing a hundred gold to a complete stranger. I'm starting to believe you might actually be an astrologer. But I'm definitely going to win this bet—because divination isn't absolute."
"Then I won't disturb you further, Miss Iris. Please, enjoy yourself."
Leon leaned back against the wall again and closed his eyes, returning to his quiet rest.
Iris squinted at him, rubbed the cheque lightly between her fingers for a moment, then turned and left the ballroom.
She couldn't tell whether he was genuinely foolish or just pretending. He looked so mysterious—yet he was throwing money around like an idiot. After all, if she made it home before midnight, that cheque would be hers.
…
"You really go big, kid. A hundred-gold cheque, just like that."
"What, jealous?"
"Not really. I'm just curious—where did you even get a hundred gold? Last time we explored a dungeon, our total profit wasn't even five gold."
The one speaking beside Leon was a voluptuous, mature-looking ghostly woman—Bisce.
She was Leon's contracted familiar. In life, she'd been a fifth-tier priestess of the Church of Astalia.
After death, she'd dropped to a third-tier wandering spirit, and her personality had shifted from stern "cool big-sis" to a shameless, flirtatious "dirty big-sis."
Because of the contract, only Leon could see Bisce in the entire hall.
"The answer's simple," Leon said. "Because that cheque is fake."
"Fake? Even if you can forge the magical seal, that trick won't fool her for long."
"Relax," Leon said. "Iris won't have time to scrutinize whether it's real or not."
Bisce muttered, "You already have me, and you still want to scam some ignorant girl for free!"
"That's harsh, Bisce. You can't keep judging me through a tinted lens just because of how I usually act."
"Then what am I supposed to think?"
"Fine," Leon said. "This time, my goal really is to pull Iris into the team."
"She's a pure-blood elf, sure, but she only just entered third tier. She's nowhere near me. What's so special about her?"
Bisce was indignant, circling around Leon, brushing against him, clinging like a jealous cat.
"You'll find out later," Leon said. "Compared to her, other than scouting, you're basically useless."
"Hey! I'm your number-one familiar! How can you talk about me like that?"
"Don't you know?" Leon said. "Honesty is humanity's most important virtue."
"Heh. Says the guy who just forged a hundred-gold cheque."
"It's different," Leon replied smoothly. "As long as you don't actually cash it, it's real."
"I get it," Bisce said. "Like casino chips you win but can't carry out. Right? But seriously—how did you even fake it? Honestly, I still can't believe you're just some rural quasi-baron's son. You're way too crafty, too sharp, too strong."
"Thanks for the compliment."
"Hmph. I wasn't complimenting you. From what I can see, that pure-blood elf is already on guard. You're not going to get what you want this time! Honestly, there aren't many people in this world as innocent and easy for you to fool as me—count yourself lucky."
"What, you want to bet with me too?"
"Nope, nope. Whenever I bet with you, I always lose. Makes no sense. You're just a rural noble with a pretty face."
Leon laughed. Her stereotype was, in a way, completely accurate.
If he were the original Leon, he'd probably still be wasting away in some southern rural territory—he wouldn't be able to do any of the things that made Bisce so baffled.
But right now, the person inside was Earthling Leon.
Five years ago, as the fourth son of a rural quasi-baron family in the south, he awakened memories of his past life. Combining those memories with various clues from this world, he deduced that he had transmigrated into the game world of the Sword, Magic, and the Holy Land series.
The games were famous for their realism, immersion, vast scale, and epic tone—marketed as the most "real" new-generation sword-and-magic RPG. The difficulty was brutal, the kind that made players suffer to the point of despair.
They contained fantasy, magic, combat, exploration, adventure, puzzles, politics, war, romance, revenge—every element packed together.
Each installment revolved around a single massive "world event" as the main storyline, pushed forward by multiple popular characters.
And the designers of each game were "thoughtful" in the most evil way: every installment had a built-in global party-wipe route. If you got stuck, or took the wrong development path, it could trigger one ancient magitech weapon or another. With bad luck, it could even summon the God of Finality—fast-forwarding straight into a continent-shattering, world-ending conclusion.
If it was just a game, you could reload a save and try again.
But Leon was facing an absurdly real world—and he only had one life.
At first, he'd wanted to slack off and enjoy a fantasy isekai.
But as he grew familiar with this world, he realized that thirty-plus years from now, the God of Finality would inevitably descend, the continent would collapse, and the weak would be wiped out. And even before that, the catastrophic disasters created by each game's boss would cause staggering casualties—if you were weak, you simply couldn't escape.
So there was only one path for him.
He had to exploit his knowledge of the plot and his informational advantage about the future, build an early lead as fast as possible, and keep getting stronger.
If he became strong enough to surpass the final boss of every installment, then every crisis would naturally be resolved.
But it wouldn't be easy.
A real world was far more complicated than a game.
Even with his information advantage, when he tried to apply it, he constantly ran into problems.
For example, grinding proficiency to raise class skills: even if he knew which skills had higher priority, mattered more in the future, and which playstyles were optimal…
He still had to spend real stamina and mana, calculate actual recovery time, and plan daily training around mana regeneration efficiency—an enormous hassle.
On a computer, all you needed was nonstop clicking—or letting the game auto-grind.
He also knew how to obtain many hidden extraordinary items, but carrying it out always ran into this obstacle or that.
A chest might be rusted shut and the key wouldn't work. A dungeon might suddenly contain new monsters that blocked the route. As the fourth legitimate son of a rural quasi-baron, he still had to work the fields and didn't have full freedom. An elderly noblewoman who coveted his looks might pressure him relentlessly, trying to marry him. Training alone meant overcoming endless difficulties, and his rate of growth couldn't keep up with the timeline of the future world events.
It was… a mess.
In the five years since his memories awakened, Leon—who only started training seriously at twelve—had suffered more than he could put into words.
Now that he had reached the age where his family required him to leave home, he had recently traveled alone to the royal capital.
Next, as long as he could trick—no… recruit—this "main heroine," Iris, into becoming an adventurer teammate, a huge number of his problems would be solved in one stroke!
Leon glanced at the interface panel in his mind.
It was here.
The long-awaited panel update he'd been waiting five years for, finally arrived!
[Heroine event triggered. Iris character panel can be unlocked.]