The Ultimate Passive Paradigm [LitRPG Adventure, Epic Progression]

Nathan left the kitchen area, giving Vincent and Madame Chen their private time together.

He donned his mask again, wandering through the hotel's lobby. The rich aroma of wine struck his nostrils from various tables where guests sat drinking. Girls in scanty clothing moved with graceful, seductive motions to offer more drinks or invite additional services from the patrons. A few extra coins would secure some private entertainment. The sight of arms draped around slender, ivory waists was hardly uncommon here.

Through the entrance came Seraphina and Iris. One maintained her haughty demeanor while the other kept her air of superiority. They headed straight for the reception desk, disappearing into the kitchen behind it. Trailing after them was a corpulent man dressed in shabby clothes, his mask unable to conceal the layers of fat bulging around his neck. A male staff member blocked his entry. After spewing a few curses, the man found himself a seat, waving two Standard Mana Stones in the air and immediately demanding two girls to embrace. However, his eyes continued to dart furtively toward where Iris had vanished.

Several other cultivators approached to join this burly fellow.

Nathan sat at a distance, straining to eavesdrop. He couldn't use spirit vision since others would detect it immediately. Most guests here were Tier 1, but Tier 2 and Tier 3 cultivators were far from rare. If he accidentally intruded upon a Tier 3's personal space, he'd be accused of offense and dragged into an unnecessary confrontation. So he relied primarily on his enhanced senses from Physical Cultivation to gather information.

"Big Ben," one of the newcomers drawled. "Still can't let go of that flower queen, can you?"

Big Ben snorted loudly, the sound seeming to involve his entire hollow belly.

"She'll end up in my hands eventually," he wheezed, the words emerging breathlessly with obvious sourness.

"Careful with your words, friend. We're on their territory here."

Big Ben seemed unconcerned, his massive hands squeezing the girl leaning against him even harder. His mouth continued running.

"I'm only stating facts. That bastard Vincent will be eliminated eventually."

"He's a Tier 3," someone on the right said cautiously. "You can't just do whatever you want to him."

"So what?" Big Ben laughed boisterously. "When even Maelivar has people keeping it down because of some disreputable old man, what can a small fry like him accomplish?"

"Man, watch your mouth! Word is that Nathan, that old man's disciple who caused such upheaval at Maelivar, is here."

Nathan had to turn his head away immediately when he sensed the people at that table scanning their surroundings vigilantly.

Big Ben's eyes widened slightly, but then he gripped the two girls tighter, making them moan softly, annoyance clear on his face.

"You know what? Fuck him, too!" Big Ben declared.

"Benjamin!" someone stood up and roared. "I said watch your mouth!"

"Chill the fuck down," Big Ben grumbled, his layers of fat rippling. "And don't call out my name like that."

"Let's drop this." A peacemaker stood up, raising both hands between the two. "Let's play a few rounds and get some Zetsy."

Hearing this, both agitated men's eyes lit up, nodding in unison.

After paying, Big Ben and his group departed.

Nathan quietly followed, curious. These people were either insane or confident enough not to care about Vincent, or even the Verdant Spire Sect. In this world, a few careless words could lead to deadly duels, so he harbored some suspicion about this person.

The group only traveled a short distance before heading straight into a gambling den. When they appeared, staff immediately swarmed out, clasping hands in joy, unable to contain their excitement. They clung to Big Ben as if fearing he might feel burdened walking up the stairs. The ostentatious display made Nathan wrinkle his nose beneath his mask.

He followed them into the most bustling part of Cascade Gardens, rivaling the performances by musicians and artists. Inside stretched a vast space that left Nathan awestruck. Individual tables with various specialized games of different shapes were distributed scientifically throughout. They were always positioned near chip exchange booths, liquor counters, and security guards. It took only a second to ensure gamblers could exchange whatever they needed. This only intensified the frenzied dopamine rush without allowing any respite, preventing anyone from having time to realize they were digging their own graves.

A balcony stretched across the upper floor with private sections separated by fabric and mana barriers. These private gaming rooms constantly had people entering and exiting. They served not just entertainment but information exchange as well.

Big Ben's group had been led to a reserved private room by staff. A crowd broke away from the tables below to join this elite group.

Nathan intercepted someone, producing a pouch he estimated was thick enough with Standard Mana Stones.

"Brother," he smiled, offering the item to his target. "Where are you headed?"

Hesitation flickered in the other's eyes beneath his mask, but upon seeing the quantity of Standard Mana Stones, they immediately brightened.

"Meeting Big Ben," he said excitedly. "If you want to play big, you need to meet him. Plus..."

The stranger stopped abruptly, making Nathan narrow his eyes.

"Zetsy?"

"Oh, you know about it too?" The man laughed heartily. "Then there's no need to hide anything. Though Big Ben has been quite open about this, so you can't really blame me. He's the supplier for this new dope thing."

"Dope? You mean like heroin?"

"What the hell is heroin?"

"Oh, my bad. It's something from my hometown. I mean to get high?"

"One of the best kinds, my friend." The man patted Nathan's shoulder. "And if you'll excuse me, I need to go before the session starts. Thanks to your welcoming gift, if you want some Zetsy later, find me afterward."

Nathan quickly stepped in front of his counterpart. "One last question? How do I meet Big Ben?"

"Play big, my friend. Play big. Just like..."

"Big Ben," Nathan finished the sentence.

In the blink of an eye, the man had entered that private room.

"Play big," Nathan muttered.

Nathan searched for information on PsiLink and learned that Big Ben wasn't just a fanatical admirer of Iris, but also a skilled dealer at Cascade Gardens. This was likely the foundation for his arrogance and his obvious hatred toward Vincent without any fear. If Nathan wanted to begin investigating, this was certainly the person he needed to approach.

While Vincent had networks here like Madame Chen, Iris, and Seraphina, they currently seemed to provide no concrete benefits. The trail from Emberwood led here, so there had to be some clue he could uncover. Learning that his target was a drug distributor only made Nathan more interested in investigating. Those operating in the shadows like Big Ben were more likely to have information about transporting something like nora.

After considering, Nathan approached the chip exchange machines. He fed Standard Mana Stones into them and received coins with denominations starting from one hundred. His actions drew several glances from the gambling tables. He spent additional time observing how various games operated. Primarily there were dice, cards, or other games of chance. At each table, he carefully studied the dealers' hand movements using [Martial Arts Mastery]. The dexterity of these people left him constantly amazed. The cards and dice were even made from materials that blocked spirit vision penetration for Tier 2 and Tier 3 cultivators. So cultivators couldn't rely on their levels to increase their winning odds. Everything depended on one's own eyes, which were very easily exploited by skilled cheaters.

Nathan stood in the center of the room, looking around with unrestrained admiration. He felt somewhat ashamed of his food and liquor business. This was truly a gold mine, a place that birthed money continuously. And the nightly amounts were hardly small either. He began to understand that building such a place wasn't easy, and maintaining the necessary order was equally challenging.

After observing, Nathan began testing. He chose a game where the dealer shook dice fairly simply. The player's task was to guess what the sum of the face-up numbers would be. There were eighteen squares for each person to place bets on. The normal odds were already small. And they became even smaller when dealers manipulated outcomes in their favor.

The shaking action seemed to produce random results but would always be controlled to give the house an advantage. Nathan observed this not just at one table but at several different ones to reach his conclusion.

At this moment, the dealer wore a colorful outfit like evening wear, smiling at all players, including Nathan. A cup was placed over three dice. With a whoosh, he slid the cup across the table surface, chaotic rattling sounds emerging from within.

Nathan squinted in observation, his ears perked up. Every smallest action by his opponent was noted. A slight force from a fingertip, the cup's travel distance, the sounds when dice hit the cup walls or collided with each other.

The inverted cup came to rest.

"Choose your lucky number," a female staff member serving as support announced.

Nathan chose the highest square, number 18.

The result was 12, with three dice each showing four red dots face-up. Just like that, he'd lost ten Standard Mana Stones. Remembering how he'd once saved and treasured every Lesser Mana Stone made his stomach clench. But the house didn't let this last long as they immediately continued the next round while the female staff distributed losses and winnings to everyone.

The next time, Nathan lost again. Then the third time as well. Five consecutive losses earned him several pitying glances. But his mouth was grinning nonstop behind his mask, though no one could see it.

The problem was that even after grasping the pattern, each die had different characteristics at each gaming table. He needed to test to evaluate their weight, density, or bounce to make correct decisions. [Improved Pattern Recognition] made this testing process more accurate and streamlined.

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On the sixth attempt, he achieved his first victory. He recovered all the money lost from the beginning. Everyone around nodded approvingly at his first win. But he didn't stop there, continuing to rarely guess wrong in subsequent rounds. His initially extremely low win rate gradually became higher, surpassing fifty percent.

At this point, the dice-shaking staff member had gone pale. The money lost at this table had already exceeded the nightly allowed threshold.

Seeing his opponent's hands trembling, Nathan withdrew from this location, moving to another table.

The casino's security guards occasionally glanced at him from various corners of the room. Though he was causing trouble, it wasn't yet enough to get him ejected. He found a card-playing table. The rules were quite simple, not much different from Blackjack, except players could increase their bet immediately after being dealt cards.

In this game, Nathan lost over a thousand Standard Mana Stones. He had to go exchange more chips to continue playing. A blazing flame of desire rose within him but was suppressed by sheer will. Someday he would waste both time and money, but not tonight.

After learning the tricks from the dealer's hand gestures, he raised his win rate. He didn't win by reading and memorizing dealt cards, but by relying on his opponent's psychology. The dealer only used card switching when necessary to establish advantage over players. He just needed to rely on that to assess situations and decide whether to raise his bid or withdraw.

Gradually, he achieved net gains instead of losses. In the final round, he bet his entire bankroll, totaling three thousand Standard Mana Stones after conversion.

Deep breathing sounds from those seated beside him rose up. Whispered discussions spread around, drawing many curious gazes. The dealer was like his colleagues, pale as death, eyes darting nervously. If he lost this round, total damages would reach six thousand Standard Mana Stones, no small amount for a lowly employee.

Nathan sat calmly with a confident smile, his eyes showing no wavering whatsoever. His three cards lay quietly under his hand.

Other players all withdrew, leaving the tense space.

A few people had stopped to watch the outcome of this showdown.

Cards revealed. Nathan 20, dealer 21.

Raucous laughter erupted around them. Pointing fingers at another's suffering. Casino staff breathed a long sigh of relief. Their earlier suspicions suddenly became groundless. The man who seemed to pose such risk turned out to be just a pure, lost gambler after all.

Nathan stiffened, his hands trembling as the female staff collected all his chips. His index finger even scratched his left finger until the skin peeled off. He slammed the table and stood up.

The surrounding crowd mocked him, thinking he would leave. But completely contrary to expectations, he went to exchange chips again. Looking at the plastic tokens appearing in his hands, veteran players knew he'd exchanged ten thousand Standard Mana Stones. When he returned to face the dealer, a hand was placed on his shoulder, stopping him.

The person bowed to Nathan, his golden mask glistening in the casino's lights.

"Would you like to play with us instead?"

"Are you one of Big Ben's people?" Nathan asked.

"No," his counterpart replied calmly. "But I can introduce you."

"I'll wait then," Nathan said.

A girl came carrying a tray to hold his chips. The rule here was no storage in spatial rings, so carrying them back and forth was quite cumbersome. The alternative mechanism was putting money on a hard card. But most gamblers wanted to experience the feeling of collecting chips, displaying their small victories for others to see.

The liaison returned and invited Nathan to Big Ben's private room.

Taking a deep breath, Nathan pushed aside the concealing curtain. Inside were six people seated around a spacious round table. Big Ben alone occupied three chairs. Up close, Nathan could truly feel the pressure his opponent emanated. Not just in appearance, but from the deep, hidden oppression of someone skilled in the underworld.

"Greetings, everyone." Nathan raised his hand in greeting.

"A young man, eh?" Big Ben said with interest, the fat around his neck moving like waves. "Young and rich. Your family must be quite wealthy, right?"

"I earned it myself," Nathan said, adding some tremor to show he wasn't accustomed to being questioned.

"Really?" a woman on the left scoffed. "How would we know that?"

"Do you want me to leave?" Nathan bristled. "I came here to play, not to be interrogated."

"A true player," the man on the right marveled.

"Come in then." Big Ben waved his hand. "This isn't child's play here. Minimum bet is one thousand Standard Mana Stones. Can you follow, young man?"

Nathan nodded, taking a seat. The air carried a distinct smoky scent. His nose tingled when he inhaled. A strange sensation rose within him, but he prevented any external reaction.

A masked dealer different from the staff downstairs began dealing cards.

Meanwhile, everyone engaged in casual conversation.

"Lately, Caelindor has been quite turbulent."

"No need to discuss it. The Obsidian Fang Sect's disappearance has everyone sitting on hot coals. Who knows what our king is doing anymore? It's been a while without any concrete information."

"Perhaps it's because of Emberwood?"

"Oh," Big Ben perked up with interest. He tried to lean forward but his massive frame prevented the action. Finally giving up, he held up his cards. "Why do you say that?"

"Those in authority should understand one thing: hiding something only makes it more obvious. Though we don't know what happened at Emberwood, suddenly there are several police forces coming and going from this area. Moreover, don't those in the know find it even more suspicious?"

Everyone leaned forward to listen to the gossip. To fit in with the group, Nathan similarly raised his head attentively.

"This happened right after that Verdant Spire Sect disciple Nathan Reed appeared at Emberwood."

"Nathan Reed again," Big Ben snorted, unclear whether from breathing difficulties or disdain. "You mean it's related to some kind of bloodline again? Isn't this matter finished yet?"

"Finished how?" the woman who had spoken with Nathan earlier interjected. "Everything was just suppressed, but from what I understand, the Emberwood incident could be very much related to that young man. That's why the king doesn't have time to investigate the Obsidian Fang Sect matter. It seems even more important than an entire high-level faction disappearing."

She looked toward Nathan, her gaze sharp.

"Kid. You have anything to input? We don't just exchange information one-way here."

Six pairs of eyes locked onto Nathan. He knew this was a test to see his capabilities and purpose, to determine if he was worthy of sitting here. The betting money was basically just to purchase information.

After swallowing once, he spoke with a slightly trembling voice.

"Word is the Emberwood incident was caused by some cult that appeared."

His information made everyone freeze, nearly dropping their cards.

"Cult? Interesting. Where did you get that intelligence?"

"The rule here is not asking about sources," the woman spoke up. Her position closest to Big Ben seemed to affirm her status as everyone hurriedly apologized. "If you want verification, do it yourself. This young man can continue staying with us."

"Bah," Big Ben barked. He laughed loudly, revealing his cards. Blackjack.

Everyone laughed cheerfully in agreement, automatically withdrawing. All betting money went to Big Ben rather than following normal rules.

"Tell me, kid," a man sitting close to Nathan asked. "Why are you here?"

"To play," Nathan said, accepting the cards dealt to him.

"Oh, don't bluff. We know you were targeting Big Ben from the beginning."

Nathan scratched his head, hesitating slightly while looking around the table before answering.

"Zetsy. I heard it's amazing."

His answer drew hearty laughter from everyone. Even Big Ben joined in, shaking the large shared table.

"Limited supply," Big Ben said. "I can't give you any immediately."

"Then when?" Nathan asked eagerly.

"Keep playing." Big Ben winked, though his beady eyes made it difficult for Nathan to distinguish through the excess flesh.

Pay more, Nathan concluded.

Discussions continued to flow at the table. Information drifted into Nathan's ears in fragments, unclear. But he still tried to memorize and record everything into PsiLink. Things that seemed unrelated might be due to his incomplete understanding of the situation. Like how transportation routes in and out of Cascade Gardens were experiencing difficulties due to some highway bandit group. Or the mysterious disappearances of cultivators. These people seemed to vanish from the map after one night, quite similar to the Obsidian Fang Sect. He also heard about escalating border tensions due to conflicts that initially seemed small but grew larger when involving the factions behind them.

When everyone looked toward Nathan, he was forced to pretend to lose so they wouldn't focus on him anymore. Indeed, he was still questioning whether revealing information about Emberwood had been a wise choice.

The money he burned gradually made his face flush hot. All the profits he'd accumulated were slowly being consumed at this gambling table. Yet the information wasn't particularly encouraging either.

"We should take a break." Big Ben tapped his pudgy fingers on the table surface. "Our young man here looks like he can't wait for Zetsy."

Approving laughter arose. Big Ben placed his hands on the table, squinting his beady eyes at Nathan, his fly-like mask seemingly ready to burst under pressure.

"For us," Big Ben said solemnly, though his tone made it impossible for Nathan to listen seriously, "we connect through Zetsy. We only trust when someone uses Zetsy and still maintains friendly relations. Young man, do you want this, or do you just want to get high?"

Nathan looked around, then faced the burly leader.

"What if I want both?"

Big Ben clapped once with a pop, sending a gust of wind that ruffled everyone's clothes in the room.

"Right answer!"

Everyone laughed loudly, nodding approvingly at Nathan.

"You seem to have studied us quite thoroughly, haven't you?" the woman asked.

Nathan nodded because he thought that was what he should do. He had indeed researched several factions at Cascade Gardens but hardly understood what group he was confronting. He'd also planned to investigate several other groups if possible. Encountering Big Ben was only due to curiosity about who dared to show no fear even of Darkan.

"Then you have sufficient potential and motivation to maintain long-term relations with us," the woman said happily, her butterfly mask seeming to brighten with her mood.

"You've been staying at one of the floating pavilions, haven't you?" Big Ben asked.

"Lucky to get a reservation," Nathan replied.

"Quite lucky indeed, getting a spot at the last minute like that."

"I think that speaks well of my work approach," Nathan said gently.

Big Ben nodded, clapping his hands, each sound like bomb explosions. Everyone raised their cups, toasting Nathan for the formality. This action was to confirm he could come here for meetings.

Just now everyone had talked extensively but mostly only surface-level matters. Nathan knew this. To dig deeper, he needed to maintain presence and prove himself. This was a basic rule he could hardly change. He wasn't sure if he had enough time to pursue this mission, but for now he'd follow along, keeping himself a path to find clues.

Big Ben spread his hands, producing above them a long pipe the length of an arm, carved with silver floral patterns. His other hand produced a white paper package. Though he looked bulky, his fingers moved with remarkable dexterity, pouring a mixture of substances into the pipe bowl. Fire ignited on its own, glowing red. Smoke rose, making every gaze in the room burn hot. What they'd been waiting for had finally arrived.

Big Ben focused intently on Nathan, as if warning or inviting him.

At this point Nathan hesitated somewhat. He trusted [Poison Processing] would activate, combined with Physical Cultivation, any exposure to addictive substances could be resisted and eliminated. But part of him wasn't certain. His mother's warnings about never touching these things made him even more hesitant.

Then images of the dead children appeared in his mind. Gideon's gaunt face and body. The dangers that lay waiting. He gritted his teeth behind his mask, signaling his opponent to continue.

Big Ben inhaled deeply, eyes squeezed shut. The pipe was passed from his right side. The woman with the butterfly mask carefully accepted it, not wasting a second before inhaling. Her hands began trembling within seconds, hastily passing it along to avoid dropping the pipe.

The next person and the next all joyfully accepted their share, or more accurately, the merchandise they'd been prepared to pay for.

In a moment of enlightenment, Nathan understood this was how Big Ben controlled everyone. Making them dependent on drugs while maintaining monopoly over supply. Even blocked by his mask, he seemed to still see the smug smile from the boss sitting at the head of the table, pleased with both the inhaled substance and the control being established ever deeper.

And today welcomed another new member. A young man who looked like he was seeking new pleasures. Someone easily tempted and deceived.

Nathan grasped the drug pipe, one flattened end extending toward him. His nose wrinkled at the slick residue from the mouths of those before him. What made him even more fearful was their expressions. Initially unclear, but when the butterfly-masked woman opened her eyes, they had completely turned black, leaving no space for whites.

"What's wrong, young man?" Big Ben asked.

He couldn't see his opponent's eyes to understand more.

"I'm just excited," he said.

Then he decisively brought it to his mouth and inhaled.

A wave of hot smoke rushed straight into his throat, lingered briefly, and flowed down to his lungs.

He immediately passed the pipe along.

Triggered [Poison Processing]. One credit given.

He closed his eyes, using spirit vision to observe inside himself. The smoke swirling in his lungs seemed to be dissected by his passive skill. Even his lung cells, stronger than normal people's, participated. In just a moment, the smoke had been completely destroyed by him, leaving only something that shocked his mind.

Nora was separated and went straight to the black hole, joining the reserves inside.

Jackpot? he wondered silently.

When he opened his eyes, Big Ben's sudden standing and pressing his face close made him jump. Though still quite far away, the bulky outline and rippling flesh made Nathan unable to help trembling.

"White eyes," Big Ben said. "Even with such a high dose, you're still unaffected. That police informant provided accurate information. One of those Verdant Spire Sect disciples present that day who can control Demon Energy."

Nathan shot up, his chair falling behind him. His entire body became alert. His armor activated.

"Nathan Reed," Big Ben straightened, his pudgy fingers interlocking as he grinned widely. "It's you, isn't it?"

Nathan considered lying, but his opponent continued.

"Why should I even ask? It's definitely you. If not, eliminate."

Nathan gathered force in his legs, preparing to flee.

Big Ben snapped his fingers. Everyone in the room vanished. They had all been transported to another room.

Nathan's entire body went cold. PsiLink couldn't be used.

He realized with shock that he had been captured.