Liu Mingwei was momentarily stunned by Yang Huan's bold move.
It wasn't the amount—over ten million wasn't a big deal to him. What truly shocked him was the outrageous conditions Yang Huan had proposed.
Generally, the more specific the conditions, the higher the odds. For example, before the World Cup, betting on which team would win the championship usually carried high odds.
But the conditions Yang Huan had laid out weren't just specific—they were absurd.
He hadn't just set the timing for the goal, predicting it would be the only goal of the match, but also named the assister and the scorer. To top it all off, he said Iniesta would score with his right foot. It was downright ridiculous.
Betting on who would score wasn't uncommon—there were even crazier bets out there—but setting that many conditions like Yang Huan did was unheard of. The odds would undoubtedly be astronomical.
That's why Yang Huan asked, "I dare to place the bet, do you dare to take it?"
"Master Huan, you're joking, right?" Liu Mingwei forced a smile.
He even forgot to notice that the same Yang Huan, who used to get national team names wrong, had just casually mentioned the names Iniesta and Fabregas.
Yang Huan stood up, pushing his phone toward Liu Mingwei. "I'm not joking. If you win, this ten million is yours."
Zhang Ning, also shocked by this high-stakes gamble, stood up, revealing her long legs, which seemed to stretch over a meter in length. Her body was stunningly proportioned, a masterpiece of creation.
Perhaps her only flaw was her lack of control over her fate.
"I've heard that Boss Liu loves high-stakes bets. Will you take this one?" Yang Huan pressed Liu Mingwei step by step.
Earlier, you wanted to embarrass me, didn't you? You mocked me, didn't you?
Come on, let's gamble!
Every bookmaker is also a gambler at heart. As Liu Mingwei would say, relying solely on commission wasn't enough to get him to where he was today. It was by betting with high rollers that he could become rich overnight.
What made him especially proud was a recent high-stakes bet with a famous tycoon from Longhai City on the Argentina vs. Germany match. That gamble earned him fifty million in one night—his biggest win of this World Cup.
Just now, Yang Huan's five-million bet on Spain winning in regulation was also a private wager.
To Liu Mingwei, Yang Huan now looked like a gambler who had gone all in, desperate to win it all back. But in such cases, the chances of recovering losses were slim to none.
"Of course I'll take it. Why wouldn't I?" Liu Mingwei hesitated slightly but then smiled and agreed.
"Since Master Huan has set such conditions, I'll raise the odds a bit. If that 'Iniesta' really scores the winning goal with his right foot between the 115th and 116th minute, assisted by 'Fabregas,' I'll offer 20 to 1 odds!"
Zhang Ning gasped in shock.
If Yang Huan bet over ten million with 20 to 1 odds, that would be two to three hundred million.
This was an astronomical sum for her.
Even Yang Huan felt his heart race at the thought, but he wanted to test whether his past-life memories would still hold true in this life.
Besides, he knew that losing over ten million would mean just getting a scolding when he got home, which wasn't a big deal.
Furthermore, if even transmigration and reincarnation could happen, what else was impossible?
"Then it's settled!"
Liu Mingwei didn't hesitate and nodded immediately. "Okay, it's a deal. Remember my account. Transfer the money to me after the match!"
"You'd better think about how to get the money first!" Yang Huan replied.
After they agreed and Liu Mingwei left, Yang Huan sat back down just as the match was about to start.
Yang Huan didn't remember much about the 2010 World Cup final except for Iniesta's decisive goal at a crucial moment. He was a huge fan of the Spanish star, so he remembered it vividly and was confident it wouldn't be wrong.
Unless history had changed!
This was his first major gamble, so Yang Huan couldn't help but feel a bit nervous.
"Why are you betting with him?" Zhang Ning asked, looking at Yang Huan with concern.
She was more worried that if Yang Huan lost the bet, he might end up sending her away, which could lead to an even worse fate for her.
Yang Huan looked at Zhang Ning for the first time, noting her youth—she probably hadn't even graduated from university yet—but she was incredibly beautiful and captivating.
Even though he had seen countless actresses, none compared to her.
Her almost flawless, delicate face combined with a pure and elegant demeanor made her seem out of place here.
"Why are you here?" Yang Huan asked with a smile.
Betting over ten million had surprisingly made him feel lighter.
In his memory, ten million now was equivalent to over ten thousand in his previous life.
It was a lot, but not excessive.
"I'm worried about you. Why are you so…" Zhang Ning's concern grew.
Yang Huan smiled. "I'm concerned about you too. So, why are you here?"
Zhang Ning had a good impression of Yang Huan but didn't want him to learn too much about her.
To her, after tonight, she would get the money, and Yang Huan would get what he wanted. It would be best if they never met again.
"For money?" Yang Huan guessed.
She felt helpless, and even if she wanted to resist, she could only passively accept her fate.
"By the way, if I lose, I might have to consider selling you to him. While I might not be able to get five million, three to four million should be manageable." Yang Huan chuckled, enjoying the sensation of teasing a stunning beauty—it was quite thrilling.
"So, you'd better pray and hope I win!"
Zhang Ning looked up at him with a gaze full of resentment and a heart full of grievance but said nothing more.
She had resigned herself to her fate!
Fifteen minutes passed quickly, and the referee blew the whistle to signal the end of the first half of extra time. The score was still 0-0.
But both coaches made their final substitutions.
Dutch coach Van Marwijk replaced veteran Van Bronckhorst with defender Braafheid, while Spanish coach Del Bosque substituted David Villa with Fernando Torres. Both teams made tactical substitutions.
Another knock at the door, and Liu Mingwei walked in.
"Sorry to intrude, Young Master Huan, but it's always more comfortable watching the game here than in the bar. I hope you don't mind if I sit down?" He said this, but he sat down without waiting for an answer.
As soon as Liu Mingwei sat down, Zhang Ning subtly shifted closer to Yang Huan, trying to distance herself from Liu Mingwei. She was afraid that if Yang Huan lost, she might be sold to Liu Mingwei.
"It's fine, you're welcome to stay and watch the game with me. After the match, we can settle the bill." Yang Huan smiled lightly but reached out to gently place Zhang Ning's left hand on his lap.
He could clearly feel her hand trembling, as if she wanted to pull away but was afraid to do so. This made him feel a perverse thrill.
Imagine, just a few hours ago, he was a penniless loser who could only fantasize about beautiful women on his computer screen and had never had a girlfriend. Now, a stunning beauty was beside him, waiting for his attention and allowing him to tease her.
No wonder everyone wants to be rich; a wealthy life is thrilling and satisfying!
Liu Mingwei's attention was entirely on Zhang Ning. He even thought that if he won, he might have Yang Huan use her as collateral. She seemed obedient enough; after a night with her and a few photos, would she be able to escape his grasp?
With that thought, Liu Mingwei's gaze grew more intense, almost as if he wanted to devour her on the spot.
Just then, the TV screen was filled with a chorus of boos.
When Liu Mingwei looked up, he saw English referee Howard Webb brandishing a red card at Dutch defender Heitinga, sending him off the field.
This caused Liu Mingwei to panic. A player down?
But with only about ten minutes left, could it be…
"Liu Boss, a red card!" Yang Huan was now a hundred percent sure that history had not changed.
Or rather, his transmigration to China had not affected the distant South Africa World Cup final.
"Red card, red card!" Liu Mingwei felt a chill on his forehead, wiping it only to find it covered in cold sweat.
He began to worry!
Two to three hundred million, while not catastrophic, would still be extremely painful if lost.
With Heitinga sent off, the Dutch team was at a greater disadvantage.
As time ticked away, getting closer to the 115th minute Yang Huan had mentioned, everyone in the stadium focused intently on the game. Even Yang Huan didn't dare to relax.
Knowing the result was one thing, but no one could guarantee there wouldn't be any changes.
The 111th minute…
The 112th minute…
The 113th minute…
The 114th minute…
They were practically counting seconds, watching the numbers on the TV screen change mechanically.
Finally, the time reached the 115th minute!