The master of ceremonies looked at the remaining guests who had not signed the contracts. "Those of you who have not made the sacrifice," he said calmly, "must leave now. Security will escort you out." A murmur spread quietly through the crowd. Some looked relieved, while others seemed ashamed. One by one, they began to file out, their heads bowed, their dreams of wealth shattered. Ethan watched them go. These ones were not willing to risk everything. Good for them. They made the right choice. When the doors finally closed, only forty people remained in the hall, their eyes fixed on the stage. The master of ceremonies smiled. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "welcome to the game. I want to thank you for staying. I know the sacrifice you've made tonight was not easy." He paused, his smile threatening to split his face in half. "You've given up your jobs, your businesses, your security—all for the chance at something greater. I promise you, your reward will be worth it." "Enou

Outside the Paradise Hotel, the night air was cool and still as Ethan's former classmates who had chosen not to participate in the game gathered in small groups near the entrance. These were the ones who were scared to take the risk of quitting their job and selling off their businesses for a billion dollars game. Some lingered out of curiosity to see who won, while others remained because they couldn't bear to risk everything they had. But now, as the minutes ticked by, the regret was starting to set in. "I can't believe I didn't go in," a man named Thomas muttered, slamming his fist against the stone pillar. "I'm such a damn coward." "Hey, easy," his friend replied, though his own voice was tight with frustration. "We didn't know what was going to happen. For all we knew, it could have been a scam." "A scam that was offering a billion dollars?" Thomas shot back. "Even if it was a scam, what did we have to lose? Our stupid jobs? At least we would have had a chance!" Another cl

Northcastle United was a club with a proud history. Founded in 1923, it had spent decades developing young talent, offering opportunities to players who dreamed of making it to the big leagues. Some of the biggest names in football had passed through its academy—stars who had gone on to play for national teams, win championships, and earn fortunes beyond imagination. However, Northcastle itself had never fully reached those heights. They were a Championship-level club, a second-division team that competed for promotion to the top flight every season but always fell short. They paid big wages to international players, employed a mix of veterans and promising youngsters, and had a loyal fan base that filled their stadium every weekend. The club's value was estimated at $70 million. Although it wasn't a massive sum by Premier League standards, it was enough to attract attention from investors. And today, Northcastle United was being sold to Mr. Wayne. On the second floor of

Manager Gerald's eyes widened in shock at Ethan's outrageous offer. He looked at the other board members, then at Casper, then back at Ethan. "Mr. Wayne," he said slowly, "perhaps we can discuss this more reasonably—" "The $10 million is on the table," Ethan said. "But only if Mr. Cole leaves. Now." The room was silent. Then Manager Gerald looked at Casper, his face filled with defeat. "Casper, I think it's best if you step outside for a moment." Casper looked at him, his face frozen in shock and betrayal. "Manager Gerald, you can't be serious." "I'm sorry," Manager Gerald said. "But $10 million dollars is a lot of money. We can't afford to turn it down." Casper's hands trembled with rage. He looked at the board members, all of whom were avoiding his gaze. He looked at Ethan, who was sitting perfectly still, his masked face revealing nothing. Then he turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The silence that followed was deafening. The room had become

The following morning, sounds of Ethan's grunts came from the window of his small home gym. Ethan lay on the bench, gripping a barbell loaded with two hundred pounds in his hands. Sweat formed on his forehead as he pushed the weight upward, his arms shaking a little from the strain."Fifty," he grunted, pushing the bar up. "Fifty-one. Fifty-two."After months of rehabilitation, his knee felt strong beneath the brace. He was fully healed, which meant that the surgery had been very successful. It had been a brutal journey, but he had pushed through it all, determined to rebuild his body piece by piece."Fifty-three. Fifty-four. Fifty-five."He slammed the bar with a clang and sat up, wiping his face with a towel. His muscles burned, but it was a good burn—the kind that reminded him he was alive, that he was getting stronger every day.Suddenly, his phone buzzed on the nearby table.Ethan glanced at the screen and saw it was an Unknown number calling. He picked it up and answered."He