My Girlfriend Betrayed Me—Yet I Became the World’s Hero!

A Billionaire

The game began.

“I’m betting big!”

Karl placed his wager first, absolute confidence written across his face. The DuPont family was powerful—even Blackwater Trading House had their people planted inside. Just moments ago, he had arranged for a device to be installed at the table, one that could subtly influence where the ball would land.

For a seasoned gambler like him, there was no doubt—Jones was going to lose this round.

With a dark look, Karl stared at Jones as if he were already a dead man.

“Your turn. If I were you, I’d be on my knees begging for forgiveness right about now.”

He had already made up his mind. Win or lose, he would have Jones seized and tortured to death.

“You’re afraid,” Jones said calmly. “Afraid of losing.”

His left hand brushed lightly over the black-gold card, a flicker of madness flashing in his eyes.

“I bet on zero. But I want the odds raised to ten to one. And I’m adding another ten million.” He paused, then said coldly, “One round. Winner takes all. Let’s see if you’ve got the guts to accept.”

Karl’s smile froze.

He was shaken—by Jones’s recklessness, and by the sheer finality in his tone.

Twenty million, at ten-to-one odds. If Jones won, Karl would lose two hundred million.

But there were thirty-eight slots on the roulette wheel. Thirty-eight numbers—and Jones had bet on only one. That meant his odds of winning were just one in thirty-eight.

Add in the rigged device beneath the table, and Jones’s chances dropped to nearly zero.

“You’re playing with fire, kid,” Karl sneered. “Fine. I’ll indulge you. Get ready to strip naked and crawl out of here.”

In his eyes, Jones was nothing more than a fool from the lower class—impulsive, ignorant, and doomed.

The wheel began to spin. The small ball raced along the rim.

Hidden in the shadows, the cheating device quietly activated.

The ball neared the end of its circuit. By its original trajectory, it should have dropped neatly into the slot marked 0. But under the device’s influence, its speed faltered. It even bounced back unnaturally—

—and began drifting toward 35.

Which meant Karl’s victory.

His pupils dilated, a grin creeping onto his lips. He could already picture it—Jones wailing as he lost everything, stripped naked and thrown out of Blackwater, before being dragged away and broken piece by piece.

This is what happens when trash like you dares challenge me.

Across the table, Jones frowned, watching the ball’s bizarre movement.

He knew the stakes better than anyone. If he lost, he’d be ruined—completely unable to gather the materials needed to form a contract with an SS-class Titan.

And that would mean only one outcome.

Death.

The ball was still moving.

There was still a chance.

At the critical moment, Jones clenched his fist and activated the Blessing of the Goddess of Luck.

An invisible ripple swept across the wheel.

Beyond what anyone could see, the river of time itself—guiding the course of the world—shifted, ever so slightly.

The ball dropped.

Into zero.

“Fuck! That’s impossible! You cheated!” Karl grabbed the wheel with both hands, unable to accept what he was seeing.

He had rigged the game himself—how could he lose?

Laughter and jeers erupted around him, growing louder by the second. His face drained of color, his entire body trembling under the weight of fear and humiliation.

“I told you your luck was garbage! Should’ve stayed out of the game! Hahaha!”

“Strip and get out! Tomorrow’s headline—DuPont heir runs naked through the streets!”

Overwhelmed by ridicule, Karl collapsed to the floor, gasping. Then, as if grasping at a lifeline, he pointed at Jones and barked:

“Kid—if you know what’s good for you, you’ll void the bet. Otherwise…” He let out a cold laugh. “Your family…”

The threat was unmistakable.

He didn’t believe anyone would risk their life—let alone their entire family—just to offend the DuPonts.

But in the next instant—

Jones’s expression twisted.

“Threats. Always threats. Using my family against me—again and again.” His voice dropped, colder than ice, thick with killing intent.

“I’m done being looked down on by people like you.”

He took a step forward.

“Take off your clothes. And get out.”

As his words fell, his Titan erupted into existence.

A towering Hellfire Rock Demon, nearly bursting through the room, roared toward the ceiling. Its molten body radiated violent heat, its eyes locked onto Karl with savage hunger.

“Haha! Looks like your threats don’t mean much after all, Karl,” Julian mocked from the side.

Karl’s face flickered between green and white. Slowly, stiffly, he began unbuttoning his shirt—first the tie, then the jacket, then everything—until only his underwear remained.

“Our agreement was completely naked,” Jones said flatly.

“Strip! Strip! Strip!” the crowd chanted.

Grinding his teeth, Karl pulled off the last piece.

What it revealed only drew harsher laughter.

Covering himself in panic, he tried to flee—but Jones’s voice stopped him cold.

“Two hundred million. The DuPont family isn’t going to default on a bet, are they?”

Karl froze.

His face darkened as he turned back.

Two hundred million.

That was nearly everything he owned. Even if he sold off his villas and assets, he’d only just be able to cover it.

He had planned to slip away and deny the debt—but Jones had seen through him instantly.

And here, in the VIP room of Blackwater, surrounded by the elite of Dusk City, the DuPont name couldn’t afford that kind of disgrace.

“…Fine,” Karl said through clenched teeth, taking several deep breaths. “I’ll pay. Let’s see if you live long enough to spend it.”

The transfer was swift.

Two hundred million flowed into the black-gold card.

In the blink of an eye, Jones became a billionaire.

But the rush of sudden wealth had barely set in when a sharp pain twisted through his chest and abdomen.

He looked up—

—and saw the Hellfire Demon staring at him.

Hungry.

Greedy.

Fixated on his flesh.

There was no doubt about it. This SS-class high-risk Titan was already struggling to restrain its appetite.

If Jones wanted to survive, the contract ritual had to be completed—immediately.

…

Karl stumbled out of Blackwater Trading House.

The stares of passersby cut into him like blades, each one driving deeper into his pride. Inside, he swore viciously:

“That brat… and his family… they’re dead. I’ll strip them naked, hang them from the tallest flagpole in Dusk City, and let them bake under the noon sun until they scream for mercy. Everyone will learn what happens when you cross me—Karl.”

Clutching himself, he rushed into his stretch limousine and grabbed his phone.

“All units—assemble immediately!” he barked. “Bring the best sniper rifles. Bring the toughest gear. I want him alive.”

“And find his family. Parents, siblings—everyone. Don’t miss a single one.”

“I don’t care who he is. Tonight—he and every last one of his family…”

“…won’t live to see morning.”