Where is my money ?

After cleaning himself off and letting the medics roughly stitch his abdomen back together, Alexandre stepped out of the participants' preparation room. He intended to go back to get his winnings immediately. However, there was someone unexpected waiting for him outside the preparation room… Professor Omega, the examiner who'd overseen the testing during the Hunter Exam.

'Perhaps if I ignore him, he'll let me go,' Alexandre thought. He pulled his hoodie more over his face and tried to walk away.

But Omega immediately said, "I think you and I should talk… Alexandre Hauteville!"

Alexandre stopped in place but, once again, said nothing.

Omega continued, "Oh, don't give me that look! It's okay, my friend. I recognized you, but your identity's not out… yet. It's simply that very few Hunters could just stand up like nothing had happened after getting his stomach ripped open. I asked myself, 'Where have I seen this sort of inhuman resilience lately?'"

Alexandre growled, "What do you want, Professor Omega?"

Omega smiled in triumph as he recognised Alexandre's voice. "Oh, nothing at all! I just want to help you, that's all."

"Help me? What the hell do you mean by that?"

Omega nodded in the general direction of the area administration services. "They'll never pay your winnings, you know, not with a false name. They'll be able to weasel their way out of it and threaten to expose you if you make a fuss. The arena's managed by the underground, you know! They have ways of keeping a hold on their cash. However, I can help you get what you deserve."

Alexandre gave a grim smile. "They think they can keep it away from me, huh? We'll see about that. I think that they have much more to lose than I do. Besides, I have contingencies in place."

Omega raised a hand in warning. "Hold on! Look, I know that you've surely made a deal with someone in the arena. There's of course no way you could've gotten in on a false name without it. But I'm telling you that you don't have the leverage you think you do. You're just a newcomer with no influence. Even if it takes bribes and favors, the arena will make sure you're the one who's punished… and then you'll have the underground mafia on your ass. Believe me, you do not want that outcome."

Alexandre clenched his fist and thought for a good ten seconds. He knew Omega was probably right—criminal networks were not exactly known for their honor, especially when it came to money. He definitely didn't have the power to take on the whole underground at his current level of power and knowledge.

So finally, Alexandre said, "Let's say that I take you up on your offer to help me get paid. What's in it for you?"

Omega shrugged, assuming an innocent and careless expression. "Just a man-to-man chat with you, this weekend. Whenever it works best for you."

Alexandre nodded warily. He hoped this wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

***

The atmosphere was gloomy for the bookmaker who had authorised the odds of 3 on William Walton. Of course he hadn't expected Chetan Ambani to lose! Beyond that, many spectators had bet on the newcomer on a whim. Therefore, the bookmaker now had to pay out a large amount of money to the winners.

This indiscretion would come out of his own paycheck, if he was lucky. If he wasn't, it'd come out of his kneecaps in a dark alley by way of a tire iron. "Or maybe they'll just send me to prison," he mumbled. "A few years of forced labor… Can I bear it? But at least I'll keep my bones intact…"

Then his day got even worse, because the bookmaker spotted the new winner approaching. "That son of a bitch dares show his face!" the bookmaker growled. "Come on, shouldn't he be in some hospital bed somewhere!? This monster's not even human!"

Alexandre stepped in front of the bookmaker with a huge grin on his face. "Come on, show me the money, baby!"

The bookmaker tried to swallow the lump in his throat and eventually spat out, "Your money's not available!"

Alexandre frowned. "Not available? What the hell do you mean?"

"The administrator phoned me and told me that your account has been suspected of fraud. Your winnings will be frozen until you report directly to the administration lodge!"

Alexandre became furious. He leaned in and grabbed the bookmaker by the front of his shirt, then was about to throw a punch until Omega grabbed his arm.

"Wait!" the professor snapped. "Alexandre, use some common sense! They're just playing their little tricks. Don't give them any justification to not pay you!"

Alexandre controlled himself and let go, then straightened his own clothes and said, "Right, let's go settle this!"