Ethan and Alex approached the betting registry, a buzz of activity where players congregated to place their bets on the ongoing fights. The array of betting options was staggering. Bets could be placed on specific moves, stances, choice of weapons, winners, and even the manner in which an opponent might be defeated.

The complexity of the betting system was overwhelming. Ethan scanned the digital screens displaying odds that fluctuated with every moment of the fights. He could see now what Dante meant about the depth of strategy involved. This was no mere gladiatorial contest; it was a game of cunning and calculation.

With only $50 in his pocket – money intended for his lunch but now repurposed for a far grimmer use – Ethan decided to divide it into five $10 bets. It was a small amount in the grand scheme of things, but it was all he had.

"Let's spread our bets," Ethan suggested to Alex, trying to mask his uncertainty. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Alex nodded, his eyes fixed on the screens. "Sounds good. But how do we choose?"

"Let's start with something simple," Ethan proposed. "We'll bet on who will win in the next few matches. We can observe and learn as we go."

They placed their bets, each choice a stab in the dark. With their limited funds at stake, they found a spot where they could watch the outcomes of their gambles. The arena was a whirlwind of violence and skill, with fighters battling for supremacy and survival.

As each fight unfolded, Ethan and Alex paid close attention to the fighting styles, the weapons chosen, and the reactions of the crowd. The first couple of bets were lost, the fighters they had backed succumbing to stronger, more cunning opponents.

"Damn, this is harder than I thought," Ethan muttered as another of their chosen fighters fell.

Alex, eyes glued to the action, responded, "It's not just about physical strength. Look at how they move, how they anticipate each other's attacks. There's a pattern, a rhythm to it."

Ethan nodded, taking in Alex's observations. As they placed their fourth bet, they chose a fighter who seemed less physically imposing but moved with a calculated grace and precision.

To their surprise and relief, their bet paid off. The fighter they had backed used his agility and tactical acumen to outmaneuver his opponent, securing a victory against the odds.

"We did it," Ethan exclaimed, a small flicker of hope igniting within him. "Okay, we're starting to get the hang of this."

Their final bet was placed with more confidence, and again, their chosen fighter emerged victorious. It wasn't a large sum they had won, but it was a start. More importantly, they were beginning to understand the complexities of the arena.

Flushed with their minor success in the arena, Ethan and Alex ventured into the labyrinth of shops surrounding the complex. The market was a bizarre fusion of luxury and depravity, offering everything from extravagant clothing and rare artifacts to more sinister goods.

As they walked through the crowded aisles, Ethan was struck by the sheer variety of items available. There were high-end technological gadgets that seemed straight out of a sci-fi movie, alongside archaic weapons that looked like they belonged in a museum.

One shop, in particular, caught their attention. It was lined with shelves of curious potions and vials, each labeled with promises of strength, agility, or even manipulation of emotions. The shopkeeper, a wiry man with sharp features, noticed their interest. "Enhancements for your slaves or yourself, perhaps? Guaranteed to give an edge in any confrontation," he said with a sly grin.

Ethan looked at the potions skeptically. "Are these... legal?"

The shopkeeper laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "In here, legality is a fluid concept. It's all about gaining the upper hand, by any means necessary."

They moved on, neither comfortable with the idea of using such dubious means. The next shop was a stark contrast, filled with lavish clothing and jewelry. The items were beautiful but served as a stark reminder of the opulence that the game’s elite enjoyed, built on the suffering of others.

Further along, they came across a technology shop, its shelves stocked with advanced surveillance gear, hacking tools, and communication devices. "This could be useful," Alex murmured. "Knowing more about what's going on in the complex could give us an advantage."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Ethan nodded in agreement. "But we need to be careful. Getting caught with this stuff could land us in serious trouble."

As they continued to explore, the realization of the vastness and complexity of the game's underground society sank in. It was a world unto itself, operating under its own set of twisted rules and morals.

Emerging from the market, Ethan felt a mix of fascination and revulsion. "We need to keep our focus. It's easy to get lost in all this... madness."

As they walked away from the marketplace, Alex suddenly stopped Ethan, a spark of determination in his eyes. "Ethan, how much money can you get your hands on? Have you saved anything?"

Ethan, taken aback by the abrupt question, hesitated. "I... I have about 500 dollars saved up. Why?"

Alex's eyes lit up. "Give it to me. I think I've figured something out in the arena. A system, a way to bet that could maximize our winnings."

Ethan's curiosity was piqued, but he was also cautious. "What's the plan?"

Alex began to explain in detail. "It's about playing the odds, but smartly. We focus on betting based on the class type of the fighters, predicting who will win or lose. But here's the key – we only bet 2.5 percent of our total funds on the less certain outcomes. This way, even if we lose those bets, it won't significantly affect our overall winnings. We treat those as bonus bets."

Ethan nodded, following the logic. "Okay, that sounds reasonable. But what about the money? Even if we win, how do we keep growing it?"

Alex's plan was more elaborate than Ethan had anticipated. "Once we've accumulated enough from the bets, we invest in the jewelry from the shops. Then, we take those pieces to the enhancement store – the one with the old guy. We enhance the items and sell them back at a higher price. It's a small margin, but it's consistent. And if we keep at it, we can build our funds without direct involvement in the more dangerous aspects of the game."

Ethan considered the plan. It was risky and relied heavily on their ability to bet wisely in the arena, but it was a start. "Alright, Alex. I trust you. Let's do it."

With a new sense of purpose, they headed back to their quarters. Ethan handed over the $500 he had saved, a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through him. They were about to embark on a complex scheme within a game that was already dangerously intricate.

Over the next few days, they put their plan into action. Alex took the lead in the betting, carefully analyzing each fighter and match. Their strategy paid off more often than not, slowly but steadily increasing their funds.

After several days of careful betting and strategic investments, Alex had successfully turned Ethan's initial $500 into an impressive $3,000. Ethan was amazed and couldn't hide his admiration. "Man, Alex, you're a freaking genius!" he exclaimed, playfully punching his friend's arm.

They shared a laugh, throwing around jokes and the occasional curse in their excitement. "Alright, Mr. Moneybags," Ethan said with a grin, "show me how the master works his magic."

They headed back to the arena, where Alex confidently placed a significant bet on one of the fighters. This fighter had consistently shown prowess and seemed like a sure bet. Ethan watched, trying to understand Alex's thought process as the fight began.

The arena was electric, the crowd roaring with each punch and kick. The fighter they had bet on was holding his own, skillfully landing blows on his opponent. But as the fight progressed, something seemed off. The opponent, who had been on the defensive, suddenly surged with an unexpected burst of energy and skill.

In a shocking turn of events, their fighter was knocked out cold. The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and boos, but all Alex could do was stare in disbelief.

"What the hell just happened?!" Alex shouted, his voice filled with frustration and disbelief. "That's bullshit! He cheated! Didn't anyone else see that?!"

Ethan grabbed Alex's arm, trying to calm him down. "Hey, keep it down. We can't afford to draw attention."

Alex was seething, "That was our biggest bet yet, Ethan! How did this go so wrong? He was supposed to win!"

Ethan looked around cautiously, mindful of the curious glances they were attracting. "Let's get out of here. We need to regroup and figure out what just happened."

As they left the arena, the weight of the loss hung heavily between them.

Alex sat in deep contemplation, his brow furrowed in frustration. Ethan, trying to lighten the mood, clapped him on the back. "Hey man, it's just money. At least we're still breathing, right? Considering the kind of games we're dealing with here..."

But Alex was barely listening, his mind racing through the events. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, a look of realization dawning on his face. "Wait, I've got it! The one variable I idiotically overlooked because I thought this was just a regular MMA betting system. But it's not regular, is it? I forgot to factor in foul play, as Dante told us. Dammit!"

Ethan, seeing his friend's distress, tried to offer some comfort. "We all miss things, Alex. It's part of learning, especially in a messed-up place like this."

Alex shook his head, his voice tinged with self-reproach. "If I had just remembered that, I would've made a reserve, done some more digging, asked around. Dammit, I was so close!"

Ethan, concerned, asked the inevitable question. "So, how much do we have left now?"

Alex's face fell as he responded with a heavy heart. "Zero. I put everything into that last bet. The growth would've been incredible, and I was planning to start a reserve with it. But I fucked it all up. Every single damn dollar."

Ethan felt a cold knot in his stomach. Their hard-earned progress, wiped out in an instant. He tried to stay positive, but the gravity of their situation was undeniable. "We'll bounce back, Alex. We have to. We can't let this game beat us."

Alex nodded, though the defeat was clearly weighing heavily on him. "Yeah, we'll find a way. I just wish I hadn't been so damn careless."

The harsh lesson hung over them like a dark cloud. In this game, every decision, every move had to be calculated with the utmost precision. There was no room for error, and they had just learned that in the most brutal way possible.