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CHAPTER 187 : Bets & Baking

POV : CELESTIAL WAGER

In the luxurious confines of The Celestial Wager, far beyond the atmosphere of Earth, the alien casino bustled with a strange, otherworldly energy. The holographic displays flickered with live feeds from across the wasteland, showcasing chaos, conflict, and mystery throughout the fifty something settlements. But tonight, one feed had captured the attention of the galaxy’s most notorious gamblers: The Chaos on Earth.

Zeltrax, his three green eyes glowing with delight, sipped on a neon-blue beverage as he watched the riots unfold in Hong Kong. The translucent blue of his skin shimmered under the ambient lighting of the casino as he leaned forward, excitement in his gaze.

“Look at them,” he hissed, “scrambling like insects. They’ve got no idea what’s going on with these portals.” His sharp teeth flashed in a grin. “Place your bets, gentlemen. How long until their governments completely lose control?”

Gorvax grumbled a deep laugh from one of his four mouths. His small red eyes squinted at the feed as soldiers moved in to break up the crowds. “I give them… two months before full anarchy.” He tossed a handful of glowing chips onto the betting table, causing a holographic counter to appear, tracking his wager.

Lurox, flitting around the table with a flutter of her iridescent wings, giggled. “Two months? Oh, you give them too much credit. The humans are so fragile! I say… three weeks, tops!” She twirled in mid-air, tossing her own bet onto the table. Her wings left a trail of sparkling light behind her.

The bet counter updated again, as more aliens joined in, eagerly placing their wagers. It wasn’t just about how long Earth’s governments would last—there were bets on everything. From how many people would be portaled next, to which world leader would lose control first, to whether the mobs would eventually break into Hong Sha’s house.

Kroxar, sat at the edge of the table, watching intently. He’d been making a fortune off Earth since the portals started. “You’re all thinking too small,” he said in a slow, deliberate voice. His tentacles wrapped around a holographic control panel, zooming in on various cities. “The real question is, when will someone use the portals to their advantage? There are a few clever ones down there. I bet one of them tries to exploit the chaos… within the week.”

As Kroxar placed his bet, Virelia floated by with a tray of exotic drinks. The lavender-skinned waitress, with her luminescent tendrils swaying gently, smiled at the group. “The humans do keep things interesting, don’t they?” she mused, handing Kroxar his drink. “Such a delicate species. I almost feel sorry for them.”

Zeltrax smirked. “Oh, don’t pity them. This is what they do best—destroying themselves.” He pointed at one of the feeds showing the U.S., where bunkers were being hastily constructed by paranoid billionaires. “Look at them! They think they can hide from the portals. We should place bets on how many of those so-called safe bunkers get hit by one.”

Another round of bets lit up the holographic table.

The Celestial Wager had been watching Earth for months now, ever since the portals started pulling humans into the wasteland. At first, the aliens had been content to watch the carnage unfold, making light bets on who would survive and what civilizations would crumble first. But now, as Earth descended into panic and martial law, the stakes had risen.

Zeltrax glanced at a new screen, this one displaying the situation in Europe. “Interesting,” he murmured. “The French military is trying to impose order. I wonder how long that will last.” He placed another bet, his grin widening.

As the others continued their speculation and wagers, the casino’s AI system chimed in, displaying a special alert.

“New development: several humans have been discovered attempting to injure themselves to avoid portaling. Odds on how long before this loophole is closed?”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The table erupted in laughter.

Gorvax slammed a fist on the table, cracking it slightly. “I love these humans! Their desperation is so predictable.”

Lurox clapped her hands excitedly. “I say the loophole is closed in… two days! They’ll realize it’s not working and start portaling them anyway.”

Kroxar’s tentacles waved dismissively. “No, no. The humans will find some other ridiculous method to avoid it first. I give them a week before they figure out injuring themselves doesn’t work.”

As the bets poured in, the display zoomed in on one particularly crowded hospital in New York, where dozens of wealthy businessmen were being treated for minor injuries, smug in their belief that they had outsmarted the portals.

In the end, to the aliens in the ‘Celestial Wager‘, Earth was just one big game. A planet teetering on the edge of collapse, with billions of lives at stake—and each life was just another opportunity to win or lose a bet. They didn’t care about the suffering, the panic, or the fear. For them, it was all about the thrill, the unpredictability, and the endless entertainment.

And as the portals continued to pull more humans into the wasteland, the bets on Earth’s ultimate fate only grew larger.

‘‘‘‘

POV : FORT BONE

While chaos erupted on Earth due to the portals, the Portal Crushers in the wasteland remained unaware of the impact their actions—or inaction—had on the other side.

Isabella was homesick. It had been sneaking up on her for a while, but baking the chicken nuggets for Atlas had really kicked it in. ‘When was the last time she had truly cooked?’ It had been her passion beyond fighting, but ever since they’d arrived in the wasteland, she had been eating meals bought from the A Salt & Buttery vending machine. ‘I’m gonna go talk to Atlas,‘ she thought. ‘This fort needs a restaurant.‘

She went to find Atlas, and when she explained her idea, Atlas was surprised, “A fancy restaurant? That would be fun, Isabella. Do you think you’d have time to run that while still helping with security and running raids?”

“I’d be the executive chef, so I’d have to hire someone to help out. But for me, it would help achieve one of my lifelong goals.”

Atlas nodded, “I think you’ll have a lot of fun. We didn’t experiment much with food last time I was through here, but we found a lot of tasty things that could be eaten. You just run it through the analyzer in the vending machines to check if it’s poisonous to humans, and you can buy a portable version for your kitchen.”

“Exactly,” Isabella said. “That’s what we did for the mutant deer herds, but I didn’t know there was a portable version.”

“There is,” Atlas said. “We’d carry it around when foraging. Each settlement is about a day’s hard trek through the wilderness, and with all the fighting, it takes a few nights to get between them.”

“So... any chance of getting a loan for the restaurant?” Isabella asked.

Atlas smiled, “We’ve got a program for that, you know.”

“Yeah, but it requires so much paperwork,” Isabella groaned.

“There isn’t ‘that‘ much paperwork, is there?” Atlas asked, frowning.

Isabella laughed, “It’s starting to build up. First, you have to ask one of the Crafters Association to fill out a form. That form gets passed to Amber and John. Amber reviews it, and if she approves, it goes to John for his final stamp.”

“Holy crap,” Atlas muttered. “We really are building a city.”

“Yeah,” Isabella said. “So, since I’m soooooo close to the big boss, what do you say?”

Atlas chuckled, “Well, let’s check how much we have.” They went to the settlement kiosk and reviewed the incoming coins. The biggest payment was from the POW exchange. Even after spending 2,500 coins on the Fort Bone Level Three Castle, they still had money flowing in. Expenses weren’t that high.

“Yeah, no problem,” Atlas said. “Go ahead and build yourself the nicest restaurant in the wasteland.”

“Really? I was just thinking of a tiny little 20-seater.”

“Nah,” Atlas grinned. “If you’re going to do it, do it right. Build something tall enough so you can see the action all around. Think of it as an improved watchtower.”

“Wow,” Isabella said, laughing. “How many floors is that?”

“At some point, Isabella, Fort Bone will be the central hub of the wasteland. Everything around us will be ours. Just like the British Empire, the sun will never set on Fort Bone. So yeah, one giant tower restaurant won’t hurt.”

Isabella chuckled, shaking her head. "You're always thinking big, huh? A restaurant that’s also a watchtower. I like it, though. Guess I'd better start sketching out some plans."

Atlas grinned. "If we're building an empire, we might as well dine in style while keeping an eye on everything. You can hire some locals too. Give 'em jobs, get 'em invested in the fort’s success."

“That’s a good idea,” Isabella said thoughtfully. "Maybe I’ll train a few recruits to cook something. It’d be better than constant vending machine meals."

Atlas nodded, "Perfect. Get that restaurant going, and in no time, people will come here just for your food."

Isabella smiled, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "Thanks for the support, Atlas."

Atlas waved, "Anytime. Just keep me stocked with chicken nuggets."

Isabella laughed as she turned to leave. "I’ll put it on the menu."