Chapter 190: A Change of Pace, Part 2

The game continued, and my advantage continued to grow. The number of chips I held were enough to push him out of the game at this point, but I didn’t press. No, one or two more hands and this game was mine. There was no need to make a big play, not when I could slowly, but surely strangle him to death.

After all, slow and steady would win this race.

Despite that, my opponent never lost his nerve. He was as unbothered as ever, seemingly unconcerned by the state of the game. As if he weren’t really losing. Perhaps that was why I decided to ask yet another question.

“What motivates you?” I asked when it came time for him to decide, would he call? Fold, or perhaps even raise?

He checked his cards, a brief glance. I could see him calculating the probabilities, if he’d win or lose. In the end, the result of that conclusion was mired in uncertainty as he simply laid back and gave me the same easy smile that was always on his face.

“My motivation you ask? A rather personal question, isn’t it?” He asks, almost teases.

“Just curious.” Was my answer, yet…

He nods, looking satisfied with himself. “Well, if you are curious, I don’t mind satiating a young lady’s curiosity. Now, where do I begin…” He considers, looking at his cards and chips, and without further hesitation, raises the bet, putting him dangerously low. He looks at me after the fact, almost taunting me.

Could I raise again? Should I? Was he goading me into it? Much like I was earlier. I probably could and… in doing so end this game early. Eat up the last of his chips. But I probably wouldn’t get my answer.

Was this his plan? Did it matter? After all, was he confident in his cards, not? Would raising lose me more of my chips? Would simply calling be the answer? As for folding, there was no point, not with me so far ahead.

“I call.” I finally answer. Meeting his raise. Cards are revealed, and… “I won again.” I announce.

“Indeed, you did.” He says nothing else as he takes a drag of his cigar. A draft of his alcohol. Watching him made my fingers itch, my throat tickle. The very thought of that amber liquid burning down my throat had me salivating.

He was well aware by this point about how I felt. And I could tell he took great pleasure in my discomfort. Was it a petty move to get under my skin, or part of a longer game? Did it matter? After all, the game was about over.

While the dealer shuffled for the next hand, the man across from me told his story. “Growing up, I was promised the world. Rather, I was destined for it. I didn’t have to do anything to attain it, merely reach adulthood. However, unlike my peers, I did not simply lay back and wait for my time to come. No, I had plans, dreams, and so, I spent those years honing myself. learning as many skills as possible, so that when I inherited the world, not a soul would be able to take it from me.”

He spoke while staring into his glass, letting the liquid within swirl. His gaze was distant, fond, in a way I couldn’t quite grasp.

“Of course…” He continued, with an almost sardonic tone. “The moment my time came, there was nothing left to inherit. Despite everything I had done, the world had vanished, ceased to be. Denied my claim, I was immediately thrown to the wolves and yet, I did not stop. No, using my talents, I climbed, grasped, took whatever I could, all to make the world mine once more.”

His words resonated with me and yet…

“I can’t say I fully understand what that feels like, to have what should rightfully be yours disappear just as your about to make it yours. If anything, I’ve been on the opposite end. Desperately honing myself to claim and take another’s birthright, and when I was kicked out for being the thief I was, I did all I could to make something of myself. Much like you did.” I answer back.

On remembering my own history, I couldn’t help but let out a sigh and take a drink from my glass of water. The man however, looked positively gleeful.

“I had a feeling we were similar. Our starts, how we came to our position matter little, only our goals. And in that, I can say, we must share a similar passion.”

I said nothing as the cards were handed out, only… As it came time to place our bets, the man across from me didn’t even bother to check his cards. He arrayed his cards before him, face-down, having never even taken a look.

Without even batting an eye, “I’m all in.” He put in the rest of his chips and leaned back and looked at me. As if he was expecting something, waiting to see something.

I frowned. Wondering what game he was playing, if there was some trick. I checked my cards, they… weren’t great. There was a good chance his cards were better, but would he even know that? Not without checking his cards, which he didn’t.

Worse, this was the final hand. Winning or losing here didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things. After all, I was far too ahead. I’d lose nothing by calling and yet…

I would lose if I were to fold. In more than one way…

“I’ll take your bet.” I answered in tun. Cards were doled out and we showed our hands. His was just barely better than mine. Giving him the win, pushing him into just a slightly better position.

“Seems you lost.” He answered calmly while collecting his chips.

“So I have, but… can you truly turn this around?”

“I don’t know, can I?” He asks back, to my chagrin.

Another hand is dealt and yet, once more, he doesn’t check. Merely lays them out before him. He said nothing, but his look said it all.

Clearly, I was in his tempo and yet… why did it feel so, wrong? Less like this was planned, and more like orchestrated chaos. Like he’d realized he was losing and decided to just throw out the board, pieces and all.

It was like a game of chicken in a way. It didn’t matter what cards he had, no, he merely needed me to back off. I had the advantage. I knew what my cards were, knew what he couldn’t possibly have.

Yet… why did it feel like I was losing? “I call.”

He raises an eyebrow, his smile turns into the slightest of smirks. “A mistake,” He answers calmly. Our cards revealed he’d lost. I won back the chips I had lost, and yet… he wasn’t wrong.

“Should have made me go all in.” He continues after a beat, letting me collect the chips.

He wasn’t wrong, was it part of his mind games? Rather, the more I checked the cards, the more I began to question, reconsider…Was this his plan?

“Are you going to do this the whole time?” I question.

“Do what?” He answers back, acting like a clueless child.

“Not look at your cards.” I pointed.

“Oh, these?” He motions to the new cards placed before him. “I think I’m done playing that game. Especially when there is a far more interesting game right here.”

“And what game would that be?” I ask, but he simply hums, keeps quiet. He says nothing, doesn’t even gesture, but I understand.

Would I keep playing? Or… would I play another kind of game… On one hand, getting down to his level was dangerous. On the other, continuing to play this one-sided game was problematic in its own way.

After all, if I could see the cards, and he couldn’t, well, I’d essentially be playing by myself, hell, I’d be playing against myself at that point.

“Is there a point to this charade?” I protest, finding this whole situation ludicrous.

“Is there really a point to this game? Especially when there is a much larger one at play.” He gestures about. Forcing me to glance around the room, at the gathered people milling about, at the dealer at our side.

And there it was, the hook. With a tasty morsel to boot.

“Very well.” I put my cards down, yes, I’d already seen them, but from here on out I wouldn’t.

“Wonderful.” He said, giving me a satisfied look while continuing to play. Leading to me having to decide what I was going to do.

“I raise.” I put down the ante, forcing him to go all in. He whistles but says nothing. Cards are flipped, and…

“Seems I won this time.” He announces proudly.

“Seems you have.” I reply back, trying to hide my irritation.

We go back and forth a few rounds, and eventually he lets out a small laugh. “How does it feel?” He asks.

“Childish.” I answer back.

“It does, doesn’t it? Betting chips on an uncertain outcome, bluffing and throwing your weight around without knowing if you can back it up at all, familiar, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t help but frown again. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. Back during the third event, when I was helping out the Liu clan head, I felt like I was doing something similar to this.

Yet, “They say faith can move mountains.” Was my reply.

“Indeed, it can, can’t it? I must say though, it was rather bold of you to follow my lead. Was that too out of curiosity?”

“Hardly… I just realized continuing to play on my own wouldn’t be worth my time.” I hit back, though, we both knew that wasn’t entirely the case. Merely an excuse.

He snickered. “Is that so? Well, regardless, it doesn’t change that you doing so was a mistake.”

“A mistake, how?” I ask, as we went through another round.

“You willingly threw away an advantage. That was your mistake.” Was his answer.

“I still own a majority of the chips. Do you really think such an advantage would matter at this point?” Was my reply.

“A lion hunts with everything it has, regardless of how big or small. Holding back will get you killed, even if it’s out of curiosity.”

I let out a low laugh. “You say that, but clearly you wouldn’t be talking this much if I hadn’t taken your bait. Now, would you?”

He hums in response, a smile on his lips. “Maybe, maybe not. How about taking a look at your cards and seeing if that is the case or not.”

I frown. “I won’t, don’t worry about that. Even if you decide to keep your mouth shut.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it is what I decided. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Truly? Even if you get nothing more from this little conversation? He probes.

“As I said, I made my decision.” Was my response.

“And what if I were to look at my cards and end this little game?” he asks back.

I eyed him, shrugged. “I’d obviously think less of you for wasting my time.”

He smiles. “But would you look at your cards as well?”

I considered. “No. Most likely not.”

“And why not?” He asks again, almost like a child.

“Because I made my decision. I have my pride, and I have my word. If you want to throw your pride and worth away, I won’t stop you.”

“Is pride really worth that much? Is your word really worth that much?”

“The greatest worth of a man is not in physical strength, or material wealth. It is in their word.” Was my answer.

“Honor then?” He returns and chuckles.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, but it gives me a bit of insight into you, who you are.”

“Then what do you think?”

“I think words matter little. I think wealth and power are what truly matter.” He responded. “After all, a trustworthy man can be forced to give up information. Either through wealth, or by physical means.”

“You’re not wrong.” I acquiesced. “Men are fragile things. We all seek comfort, food, and wealth. There is even a saying, that birds die for food, and men for wealth.”

“I’m sensing a but here.” The man replies back, an easy smile on my face.

“But.” I state, letting the word hang, “There do exist exceptions. Men that will not bend or break. People that will go to absurd lengths to uphold their end of a bargain.”

“And do you consider yourself one of these people?”

It was a biting question. Though, it was said so nonchalantly. “No. I am not. I do not believe I have what it takes to do such a thing.”

He looks at me with a pleased look. “I knew I had a good feeling about you. So, then what is it you want?”

It doesn’t take me long to consider. “Strength enough to not have to compromise on my ideals. Be it monetary or physical. All so that I can be at the top.”

“A noble goal, if there ever was one.” He answered calmly, and like that, we continued.

We played another hand. At this point, the trend was changing. I was slowly losing ground, being whittled away. He was playing fast and loose with my bets, doing his best to pull me out of my shell. Forcing me to play to his tune.

I didn’t rise to it, I played more conservatively, but it felt like I was only delaying the inevitable. Like trying to keep water from flowing through my open hands. Or perhaps… stem the tide of blood flowing out of an open wound…

Sensing the shift, he pressed. “Reaching the top is no easy task. Especially if you continue as you are.”

“And what would you suggest?” I ask back.

“Lie, cheat, steal. Do everything you can to get ahead. Only once you get to the top can you start making your rules.”

I had no answer for that, only… “Are you not afraid of where that will lead you?”

“Afraid? Do you think I’d somehow become a different person once I attain power? That somehow, the moment I have what I want that I’ll change into another being.”

“What of the saying, absolute power corrupts absolutely.” I retort.

“Bullshit.” He barks, slapping the table with his palm. “Absolute bullshit. The weak have spread that little saying far and wide, for fear of the strong. Power does not corrupt, no, it merely reveals what lies beneath. If you fear what you would become when given a modicum of power, then perhaps you do not deserve such power. No, the weak only say this to justify themselves, to ignore responsibility for when they are given power.”

He motions with his hand.

“Someone with strength takes responsibility for their actions. They do not hide, nor shirk their responsibilities. No, they admit it, they state their desires and whims, and don’t use flimsy excuses for why they did it. I do not take what others have for some sanctimonious reason, no, I take because I want it, nothing more, nothing less. Strength does not need justification, merely the will to go through with it.”

His words were shocking, almost… heretical. “And what of noblesse oblige?” I answer back, he laughs.

“A fairytale! For why does the noble care for his servants? Because they are his wealth, his property, nothing more, nothing less. They speak of noblesse oblige, or the obligation of nobility to put an air of legitimacy to the fact that men rule over other man. Men that are no different from other men.”

He takes a drink, a puff of his cigar.

“Men will say they are descendants of gods, to affirm their kingship, when most kings and their royal lines were at one point average men and women, like you and me. A royal and a peasant’s blood are no different. No more valuable in the grand scheme. Even now, amongst what should be equals, can you not see the difference in how we are treated by those we call the mascots?”

I was quiet, listening. His every word oozed a particular kind of charisma. Not that of a natural born leader, but one of a grizzled veteran, a man who had constantly stood at the frontlines. A charisma born of experience. A charisma that could only be earned, not granted.

“Then, with what you say… I have the choice of deciding what I do, what lines I draw and will not pass. Is that not so?” I answered back.

“Indeed. You have that choice, so long as you have the strength to back it up.”

Our eyes locked. Challenging me to counter him, to argue, but… he was right. I knew that much. In many ways, he was right. Only through strength could I uphold my ideals. I knew that very well. After all, I cut many corners back before entering this city. Before becoming who, I was. Even coming here I’d cut corners far too many times.

And I knew for a fact, I’d be cutting far more corners in the near future as I expand my reach.

“You’re not wrong, but… even if it is foolish, a waste of time. I’d like to at least attempt to hold myself to a higher standard. Even if it means I inevitably fail to meet them.”

He gives me a look I can’t quite judge. A look of pity, loss, and perhaps, a bit of regret. He sighs. “So that’s your answer then?” He replies, but I don’t answer.

Eventually, he speaks up again, “Are you aware of the purpose of this event? Rather, do you think this is as simple as it appears?”

That was a dumb question. “Of course not. Not with how the mascots have acted. Clearly something else is at play.”

“And indeed, there is. Imagine a closed scenario, a safe place for various factions to gather in a single spot all under a pretense of shared time off. A time to relax. To the average individual, this is a treasured time, a time to get easy coins, and prizes. Whereas for those in the know, we know just how deadly this event truly is.”

I caught on immediately. “This is a chance for the different factions to gauge one another, their strength, capability and more, isn’t it?”

“Among other activities. Such as forming alliances, or trade agreements. As peaceful as this event seems, it is anything but. Do keep that in mind.”

“I will.”

Eventually, we evened out in chips. “All in.” Was his answer, his challenge.

“You’re trying to goad me.” I answered back, realizing that our positions were completely reversed.

“Indeed, I am, only will you take the bait?”

I sighed. “I lost the moment I decided to get on your level.” I said, realizing the truth of it all. Though, some part of me understood. That even if I lost to him, I didn’t lose to myself…

Not that it was worth much in the end… Perhaps, he had a point. Perhaps it would have been wiser to keep my advantage. By choosing not to punch down, I now had a very real chance of losing this.

Could this be interpreted in other ways? Running a business was a gambit, in many ways, it resembled this card game. Playing without knowing fully what cards were on the table, and oftentimes not even being aware of your own hand.

With that perspective, if I knew my company in and out, and a competitor didn’t, would I willingly blind myself just to make up the difference? I should have been greedier, is that what he’s trying to teach me, is even trying to teach me? Or is this more theatre to throw me off?

Did it matter? After all, I’d already made my choice. I already knew who I was. This game wasn’t worth undermining my own values for, even if it was childish.

“I’ll match you. I’d rather not drag this out much longer.”

He hummed, and the cards were finally revealed.

I lost.

“It was a pleasure to play with you.” I say, standing and giving a slight curtsy.

“I feel much the same, rather, I can’t wait to see what you become.” He responds, a smile on his face.

“I don’t think I caught your name earlier.” I say next. Knowing full well he never gave it.

“Because I never said it.” He said cheekily, calling me out, “However, I do believe now is as good as a time as any. Name’s Lucre.” He extends a hand.

I freeze and stare at the man across from me, tanned skin, dirty blonde hair, earrings in his ears, rings on his hand, tacky gold suit. If what he said is true then… “Head of the Dragon Gang?” I answered back. His smile widens.

“So, you’ve heard of me.”

“I have…” And I took his hand. His grip firm, sure. “I’ve also been somewhat involved in your little plots.”

“Plots? Ah, you mean those gangs? If you’re worried about that, I don’t much care. They have long served their purpose.”

“And what of my connection with the police? Surely, that would be a point of contention.”

“Hardly. Having met you, I have a good feel for your character. So long as you don’t cross my bottom line, we’re fine. If anything, I have the feeling we’ll be working together before long.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. However, it was clear he wasn’t wrong. Even if it wasn’t with him directly, I’d be working with him eventually. That much I could attest too.