Midnight struck, and my father was still at the table, surrounded by a captivated crowd. They were all waiting with bated breath to see who would finally break his winning streak. The tension in the air was palpable as each new challenger took a seat, hoping to outwit the man who had been on a roll all night.
"I resign; I’ve just run out of money," muttered the man currently sitting across from my father. His voice was low, laced with frustration. He pushed away from the table and walked off, shoulders slumped in defeat.
My father remained unfazed. He simply nodded, acknowledging the man’s departure. It wasn’t long before murmurs spread through the crowd; no one else seed eager to challenge him. The air of finality hung over the table, suggesting that this might be the end of the night’s excitent.
"Will, we should call it a day; let’s go back now," Father suggested, his voice calm as he began to rise from his seat. His deanor was as composed as ever, not a hint of arrogance or weariness from his string of victories.
"Yeah," I replied, a mixture of relief and disappointnt washing over . It had been an exhilarating night, but the lure of sleep was growing stronger.
Just as Father was about to stand, the crowd suddenly parted. Their whispered conversations ceased, and all eyes turned toward the entrance. A figure erged, walking toward our table with a confident stride that commanded attention. The man was bald, with a plump body that seed to spill over his finely tailored clothes—garb that spoke of wealth and authority. His expression was unreadable, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
"You, are you going ho now?" the man asked, his voice cutting through the hushed atmosphere. "How about I be your last opponent before you leave?"
Father turned to , raising an eyebrow as if to ask my opinion. Should he play one more ga or should we head back to our inn? I hesitated, glancing around at the eager faces in the crowd. There seed to be no harm in playing one more ga. I gave a slight nod.
"Okay, I’ll accept your offer," my father replied, settling back into his seat.
"Thank you," the bald man said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. It was as if he had expected this outco all along. He took his place across from Father, exuding a quiet nace that made the crowd inch closer, their excitent renewed.
"Hey, isn’t that Carson, the leader of the Snakes?" soone whispered from within the crowd of onlookers. The na seed to ripple through the crowd like a wave, bringing with it a mixture of awe and fear.
"Yeah, that’s him," another voice whispered back. "The leader of the biggest criminal organization in this city and the owner of this casino."
I felt a chill run down my spine. Carson was a na I had heard in hushed tones around the city. He was notorious, a man you didn’t want to cross if you valued your life. The stakes of this ga had just been raised to a level I hadn’t anticipated.
Carson leaned forward, his gaze fixed on my father. "It seems like you already won 20 gold coins in just one day," he said, his tone casual but with an edge that hinted at sothing more. "So, tell , what tricks did you use to win and get that much money?"
Father t Carson’s gaze with calm indifference. "I didn’t use any tricks; it’s just that lady luck was on my side. And for the record, I didn’t win 20 gold coins; I won 18 gold coins and 7 silver coins, to be exact."
A flicker of irritation crossed Carson’s face, but it was gone in an instant. "So you don’t have any intention to reveal it?" he said, his voice cold and asured. "Then I’ll be the one who will find and reveal your tricks."
Father acted as though he hadn’t heard Carson’s thinly veiled threat. He picked up the dice from the table, giving them a light toss between his hands. "So where are you betting, even or odd?" he asked, his voice betraying no hint of the unease that was growing in the pit of my stomach.
"Even, 5 gold," Carson replied with a smug smile. It was a smile that spoke volus—an expression of confidence that bordered on arrogance. The crowd gasped at the amount he bet. Five gold coins were no small sum, especially for a first round.
The monetary system here was simple yet telling of a person’s wealth. Copper, silver, gold, and platinum coins were the currency, with one copper coin enough to buy a piece of bread. Ten copper coins equaled one silver coin; ten silver coins equaled one gold coin, and fifty gold coins equaled one platinum coin. The fact that Carson was willing to bet five gold coins so casually only solidified his status in this world.
"Okay, then here I go," Father replied, unfazed by the high stakes. He rolled the dice with a practiced ease that spoke of countless hours spent at tables like this one. The crowd collectively held its breath, all eyes on the dice as they tumbled and spun on the table.
The dice ca to a halt, revealing two sixes. Twelve—an even number. Carson won.
"It seems that I won," Carson said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He reached across the table to collect his winnings, scooping up the five gold coins with a practiced hand. "Maybe lady luck is on my side now?"
Father didn’t respond to the gloating. His eyes remained steady, focused on the table as if calculating his next move. There was a brief silence, a pause where ti seed to hang in the balance.
"So, where are you betting, even or odd?" Carson asked, picking up the dice with a casual flick of his wrist. There was a glint in his eye now, a hint of triumph as if he already believed the ga was in the bag.
"Odd, ten gold coins," Father answered without hesitation. His voice was calm, unwavering.
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd. Even Carson’s eyes widened slightly at the amount. I felt a surge of alarm. Ten gold coins were a significant amount of money, nearly half of what Father had won tonight. I placed a hand on his shoulder, about to voice my concern, but the words stuck in my throat. Father gave a reassuring glance, his eyes silently conveying that he knew what he was doing.
Before I could ask or protest, Carson rolled the dice. They clattered against the wooden table, spinning and bouncing as they determined the fate of the ga. The entire room seed to hold its breath, waiting for the outco.
The atmosphere in the casino was tense. Every eye in the room was glued to the table, breaths held in anticipation. The dice clattered across the polished wooden surface, spinning wildly before they finally ca to a stop. All around, spectators leaned forward, their expressions a mix of hope and dread. The numbers on the dice read six and three.
Gasps erupted from the crowd, followed by an electric silence as they processed the outco. Father had won again.
Carson, let out a slow breath, his face a mixture of disbelief and reluctant admiration. "That was a hell of a bet," he admitted, voice gruff with acknowledgnt. His eyes narrowed as he studied Father, searching for any sign of deceit or trickery. "And now I know you won with pure luck. No tricks." He tapped the table lightly with his fingers, a nervous habit that betrayed his composed deanor. "If you were using a trick, you should have used it now. But I didn’t sense anything."
The crowd murmured in agreent. Carson was known to have a keen eye for deception, and if he couldn’t catch Father in a cheat, it ant the win was legitimate. Slowly, he extended the dice back toward Father, his expression a reluctant smirk. "Sorry for doubting you earlier. Let’s continue our ga."
Father took the dice, but before he could speak, Carson leaned toward one of his henchn standing silently by his side. There was a brief, whispered exchange, then the man nodded and swiftly left the casino, lting into the shadows of the crowded room.
"Apologies for the interruption," Carson said, his tone casual but his eyes never leaving Father’s face. "I just asked him to get so extra money. I didn’t bring that much with ." He shrugged, offering a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "I didn’t expect to play a ga like this with soone like you."
Father nodded, his expression calm and unbothered, though I could tell he was wary. They resud their ga, the dice moving back and forth across the table. Sotis Father won, and sotis Carson took the pot, but they were no longer betting the high stakes they had before. The amounts were still significant—two or three gold coins at a ti—but compared to the earlier bets, it felt like a different ga.
As the rounds went on, the man Carson had sent out earlier returned. He leaned in to whisper sothing into Carson’s ear. Carson’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of irritation in his eyes, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
Carson sighed dramatically, pushing his chair back and standing up. "It seems I’ve lost," he announced to the room, his voice carrying a note of forced cheerfulness. "He didn’t bring the extra money because sothing urgent ca up." He looked down at Father, his gaze unreadable. "I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take my leave now. I hope we can play a ga again in the future."
Without waiting for a reply, Carson turned on his heel and strode out of the casino, his henchn trailing behind him. The crowd erupted into chatter as soon as he was out of earshot, a mix of surprise, admiration, and gossip filling the room.
"Wow, he really won against Carson," soone said, the words buzzing with incredulity.
"But I heard he’s leaving town tomorrow," another person chid in, their voice tinged with disappointnt. "There’s no chance for a rematch."
As the crowd discussed the night’s events, Father and I quietly made our way out of the casino. The adrenaline of the ga was still coursing through , making my steps feel light. We walked in silence for a while, the streets eerily quiet in the dead of night. The only sounds were our footsteps echoing off the cobblestones and the distant murmur of voices from the casino.
"Father, that was amazing," I finally said, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. "Did you really not use any tricks?"
He glanced at with a small smile, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the streetlamps. "Yeah," he replied casually. "It’s just that, ever since I was a child, lady luck has been on my side."
I looked at him skeptically. "Ever since you were a child?"
He chuckled softly, nodding. "Yeah, and my friends at the academy used to play rock-paper-scissors all the ti. The loser had to buy lunch for the winner." His grin widened, a boyish glint in his eye. "I never lost. Not even once."
"Father, that must be a gift," I said, more convinced than ever.
He shook his head, still smiling. "No, it isn’t. My teacher at the academy back then had a gift to sense if others had a gift. He said I don’t have one."
I mulled over his words. In this world, a "gift" was a special ability soone had from birth. It could be sothing extraordinary, like reading minds, or sothing seemingly trivial. Not everyone had one, though. For Father to be so consistently lucky without a gift seed almost impossible.
We walked in silence again, my mind racing with what Father had just said. Could it really be that he was just this lucky? Or was there sothing more to it that even he didn’t understand?
Suddenly, Father stopped walking, his arm shooting out to block my path. I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but he spoke first, his voice low and steady.
"Will, don’t panic," he said, eyes scanning our surroundings. "I need to tell you sothing important. We’re surrounded."
"Huh?" I blurted out, my brain struggling to catch up with his words.
User Comments
0 comments from readers