The strangeness has come, I am a god with trillions of ghost money

Chapter 447 How dare she predict that everyone would survive?!

Qin Yang's face instantly turned extremely ugly. He hadn't expected that the female underworld official could recognize the origin of the sword at a glance.

Although he is not a descendant of the First Emperor Ying Zheng, his current power is indeed related to the First Emperor.

Many famous emperors of ancient times did not choose to be reincarnated after death, but instead ruled over their own territories in the underworld, becoming renowned ghost emperors.

However, Qin Shi Huang was a great emperor throughout history, and he was different from other ghost emperors. He had not appeared in the underworld for a long time.

Even the Kings of Hell and the Underworld generals couldn't find him anywhere.

Only he knew where the First Emperor was.

The sword in his hand, which belonged to the First Emperor of Qin, was a gift from the First Emperor. It was a ghost weapon of the Ghost Emperor level, and it also carried the aura of the First Emperor of all time!

Even if he encounters a ghost emperor-level monster in a dungeon, it can help him escape safely!

Song Mang naturally knew Qin Yang's background. She looked at Qin Yang's sword with amusement and said leisurely, "Let's bet a little to test the waters first. What are you planning to bet on?"
If you can't even come up with something equivalent to 100 billion right now, how are you going to gamble with me later?

"..."

Song Mang then turned to the female underworld official and asked, "If he can't offer something of equal value to bet with me, does that mean he's lost?"

"Not really."

The female underworld official replied, "If he can't offer something of equal value in the bet, we'll assume he's wagering his personal freedom. If he loses, he can sign a master-servant contract, and from then on, he'll be your servant forever."

This means everything he has is yours, even his life. Isn't that pretty good?

Song Mang looked at Qin Yang and smiled, "It is indeed quite good. But judging from his appearance, it's not that he can't offer something of equal value, but rather that he's unwilling to give it up."

"..."

Qin Yang frowned, then slammed his sword on the table and said, "I don't actually have a hundred billion ghost money, but not enough to gamble away my personal freedom."

In this round, I'll bet on the First Emperor's sword and see which side Lady Luck is on.

Upon seeing this, the female underworld official said, "Since that's the case, then the betting begins. Please write down the number of surviving students from your chosen school on the slip of paper."

During the writing process, I will set up a protective barrier around you to prevent anyone from peeking at the other's numbers and thus influencing their judgment.

As soon as the words were spoken, a black, ghostly mist enveloped the two of them, forming a barrier that separated them.

Song Mang first sent a message to Xiao Junze, and then wrote down her predicted number of survivors on the note.

Qin Yang also contacted some players in the game.

After getting lost on his way to Haicheng, he accidentally entered this instance, and the people from the Imperial Capital Ghost Suppression Division came looking for him.

Now those people have also entered this instance, but their team is wearing blue school uniforms.

That is, the school Qin Yang chose.

However, there were not many of these people, far fewer than the number of people in Song Mang's six-pointed star formation.

Although these experts from the Imperial Capital's Ghost Suppression Division were among the strongest players, they were not enough to bring so many people to safety.

This is, after all, a ten-star dungeon. If those players don't score 600 on the college entrance exam, they might be executed by a powerful and bizarre entity.

The powerful and bizarre events that appeared in the ten-star dungeon meant that everyone was just trying to protect themselves, let alone worry about others.

Qin Yang made a relatively safe prediction: the number of people from the Imperial Capital's Ghost Suppression Division who would enter.

15 people!
These people are top-tier experts; if they can't survive, the others have even less hope.

Even if they lost a few people, the number 15 should be close to the survival rate.

"I've finished writing it."

When Qin Yang spoke, Song Mang also spoke, and the black mist barrier around them dissipated.

The female underworld official looked at them and said, "Now that you've both finished writing, the numbers on the slips of paper can no longer be changed. Please place the slips of paper in the center of the table."

The two of them put the note down together. Qin Yang saw the number Song Mang had written on it, and her pupils instantly contracted as she looked at her in disbelief.

"Song Mang, have you gone mad?"

On Song Mang's note, there was a four-digit number written!
1000!

She predicted that everyone would survive!
how can that be!

Qin Yang couldn't help but say again, "Each school only has a thousand students, how can everyone possibly score over 600? If someone doesn't score 600, they'll probably be dealt with in a bizarre way soon!"
Even if you score 600, you might not be safe in the unpredictable ten-star dungeon!

Song Mang calmly replied, "I don't believe they can score 600 points; I believe in the abilities of my subordinates."

Qin Yang scoffed at this.

"Your subordinates' abilities? You mean those idiots around Xiao Junze? Those motley crews don't even have a single powerful Golden Core cultivator. How are they supposed to withstand the high-level monsters in the ten-star dungeon?"
Aside from the special ten-star dungeon in the capital, it's common for ghost generals and ghost kings to appear in high-star dungeons, which is why the death rate in ten-star dungeons is so high.

These people are probably struggling to protect themselves, how can you expect them to protect others and help them survive? That's utterly delusional!

"How will you know if you don't try?"

Song Mang glanced at the number he wrote down. "You chose the Blue School, so you must know someone there, right? Those people are experts from the Ghost Suppression Division headquarters, don't you trust them at all? You just wrote that fifteen people can survive?"

"..."

Qin Yang felt that fifteen was too many!

His lips twitched slightly as he said, "Even if my number is too low, it's definitely closer to yours. You wrote that a thousand people survived; if half of those people died, you'd pretty much lose."

In such a high-risk instance, wouldn't it be easy for half of a thousand people to die?

Song Mang shrugged and didn't say anything.

The female underworld official's voice came, "You two, stop arguing. The college entrance exam results are out, and each student's score is on their exam paper."

The flow of time is different in casinos and in the "eighteen levels of hell." While Song Mang and Qin Yang were exchanging a few words, these people had already taken several exams in the classroom.

The two then heard a series of wails coming from the monitor on the screen in front of them.

"Damn it, what an idiotic question! I'm a senior in high school and I've never seen such an idiotic question before!"

"This is supposed to be the college entrance exam? I can tell at a glance that the big questions at the back of this math paper are completely illogical!"

"I've done this math problem in the real world, and my answer is correct. Why didn't I get any points, but this guy got points even though he got it wrong?!"

"Is this really the college entrance exam? It feels like a death sentence! Why does the exam paper say I need to get 600 points?"

In each classroom, most people were pale-faced and muttering curses.

Clearly, their scores were not 600.

“Ding ding ding—!”

Suddenly, an eerie red light illuminated each classroom, and a piercing alarm sounded.

A mechanical voice came over the loudspeaker.

"Attention all test takers! Scoring below 600 on the college entrance exam indicates you are a mentally challenged individual who cannot survive!"
Now, we will begin purging those who no longer meet the requirements to ensure the rapid and efficient development of society.

"...?"

Before the players could react, the window next to them suddenly shattered with a loud crash, and a pale, ghostly hand reached in and dragged out a player who had a score of less than 600!
"Ah—! Help, help..."

Sudden.

The player's screams abruptly stopped.

Crunch, crunch.

The sound of chewing bones could be heard.

(End of this chapter)