From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 497

"Let's bet on the lives of the 392 passengers and eight crew members on this plane."

The refined man appeared cultured and gentle, but his words sent shockwaves through the cabin.

An elderly couple behind him immediately stood up, shrinking back in terror, staring at him as if he were a terrorist.

The passengers nearby were visibly panicked. Only Celia's eyes turned sharp, glued to the man.

A burly man beside him—muscular and fierce—heard those words and roared,

"What the hell are you? Betting with our lives? Believe it or not, I'll toss you out of this d*mn plane!"

He reached out to grab the man's collar.

He was a retired soldier. Even if the man were a terrorist, he feared nothing.

But just as his hand was about to grab, his body suddenly trembled—as if invisible chains seized him. He collapsed heavily into his seat, unable to move.

The middle-aged man didn't even glance at him. His smile remained as he faced Leander.

"Well?"

Nathan and the others were stunned into silence, chills running down their spines.

This man smiled faintly, but in their perception, he felt like a dormant dragon or tiger—an apex predator cloaked in elegance.

Who is he? And why seek out Leander?

"Interesting."

Leander's smile deepened, his expression finally turning serious for the first time.

In all his experiences, this was the first time he felt forced into a passive position.

The man first proposed a bet without stating the condition, making Leander accept blindly. Only then did he reveal that lives were at stake.

Leander was forced into a dilemma—refusing would brand him a coward, but agreeing would mean gambling with innocent lives.

Leander had no choice but to accept the bet. But if he lost, every life on this plane would be lost because of him.

With just a few sentences, the man seized every advantage, boxing Leander in completely.

Among all opponents Leander had faced, this man's mental prowess and cultivation were unquestionably among the highest.

Leander did not answer immediately.

The man was in no hurry either. He simply sat there calmly, waiting.

The plane was silent. The flight attendants, who should have intervened, sat motionless as if asleep. No one moved. Every passenger stared at Leander and the man.

After a dozen breaths, Leander finally spoke.

"You want to bet? Then these four hundred lives aren't enough. Let's add another stake."

He lifted a finger and pointed at the middle-aged man, smiling mockingly.

"Add your life. How about it?"

The passengers nearby were completely bewildered. It felt as if they had been plunged into a surreal martial-arts world.

The middle-aged man suddenly burst out laughing.

"Haha! Good. Very good!"

He looked at Leander with clear admiration.

"No wonder Blood Demon tasted his first defeat at your hands. The world's top-ranked fighter in history—you truly live up to the title."

Unfastening his seatbelt, he slowly stood up.

I thought our encounter would come much later. Who would have expected the King of Assassins to appear on this flight to Dechor?

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