CH450 Casino Royale II

***

Never mind this life, where he was too busy to have any time to gamble—even in his past life, it had been the same.

In both lives, Alex had never been much of a gambler. Beyond picking up the various poker hands and combinations from online videos, he couldn't be said to possess any real knowledge of the game.

What he did know was that in games like poker, the player mattered more than the cards dealt. Much like life itself, a good player knew how to make the most of the hand placed before them.

In real life, it was fate and destiny that determined the cards one was dealt. At this table, it was the dealer.

Alex had no intention of playing fairly.

He knew the others wouldn't.

If players in the civilised world cheated without shame, how could one expect those of the Wildlands to act any differently—especially when he was an outsider on their turf?

He also hadn't forgotten the universal rule.

The House always wins.

In the first round, Alex lost badly as he familiarised himself with the game's nuances. However, from that point onward, he began to adjust.

He advanced and retreated as needed, never losing more than was absolutely necessary.B

yy the fourth dealing, he had become untouchable. It was impossible to extract even a single shard from him unless he deliberately allowed it—usually as bait to lure someone else into a trap.

By the seventh dealing, Alex had nearly cleaned out Camp Red Rock's underbosses.

They stared at him with a mixture of shock and horror.

Shock—because once the game truly began, Alex became as immovable as stone. His expression never shifted. Bluffs or tricks, nothing worked to surface an expression on his face for them to exploit. Even when the three underbosses clearly coordinated to trap him, they gained nothing.

And horror—because while they could read nothing from him, he seemed to read everything from them.

Their intentions, their greed—it was as if they were open books.

It was almost as though…

…he could see their cards.

The three underbosses exchanged wary glances.

They probed carefully, but found nothing.

There were spells that could be used to cheat in such a manner—[Clairvoyance], [Through Sight], and the like. However, any such spell would inevitably leave behind mana emissions.

Those emissions would immediately trigger the artefacts installed throughout the casino to prevent this kind of low-class cheating.

Yet the artefacts remained silent.

Which meant Alex wasn't using any known spell.

What they didn't know was that Alex had begun playing this game long before he ever took a seat at the table.

The reason he had entered the casino with only Zora and Eleanor—accompanied by the two hulking presences of Kavakan and Mogal—soon became apparent.

Scattered across the gambling hall, positioned at carefully chosen vantage points overlooking the table, were the rest of Alex's expedition members.

Using the oldest trick in the book—the advantage of communication—Alex played calmly while Udara and the others fed him the cards held by the underbosses through their communicator earpieces.

The reason for his grand, almost theatrical entrance into the casino was precisely to draw all attention to himself.

And it worked.

Everyone—including the underbosses—was so focused on Alex that they paid no mind to the others who entered alongside him, or shortly after. By the time they could notice anything, the expedition members had already secured positions perfect for spying on their hands and relaying the information.

Brieger finally snapped.

He slammed his fist against the table.

"You are cheating!" he accused, pointing directly at Alex.

Alex's gaze hardened.

"And how am I cheating?" he shot back. "You'd better have proof."

Brieger faltered.

All he had was the overwhelming certainty that Alex was cheating. But he couldn't tell how—nor could he prove it.

"I don't know how you're doing it," Brieger growled, "but I know you are!"

Alex scoffed.

"I'm cheating because you say so?" he sneered. "Who do you think you are?"

Brieger became tongue-tied.

However, Alex's side wasn't about to let the moment pass in silence.

"What a sore loser," Eleanor's beautiful voice rang out. "If you know you're too poor to lose a little chump change, why gamble in the first place?"

Zora didn't hold back either.

"You can't blame him, sister. He's a leader in this backwater, so no one here dares beat him openly. To think he lacks even the awareness of his own skill level—so much so that he accuses anyone who bests him of cheating."

She smiled faintly. "Truly a frog in a well."

Because of Brieger's earlier outburst—and Alex's cold rebuttal—the gambling floor had gone completely silent. As such, the two women's so-called whispers might as well have been shouted.

"You… you mere women dare speak against me?!" Brieger snapped.

He reached instinctively for his weapon, intending to lash out across the table—

But he froze.

The looks the two women gave him stopped him cold.

They were calm, composed and dignified.

Like royalty looking down upon a peasant. Or daughters of heaven gazing with pity at an ant.

The same sharp instincts that warned him that Alex was cheating, also warned him that nothing good would come from attacking the two women.

He couldn't understand where such fear came from.

His gaze dropped to the wine cup that had been knocked to the floor earlier.

'Am I already drunk?'

'Or was the wine poisoned?'

He couldn't comprehend how mere women—his usual playthings—could inspire such dread.

"If this were anywhere else," Alex's cold voice cut through the silence, "you would already be dead."

All eyes shifted back to him.

"But since I am a guest in someone else's house, I will respect the owner's rules." His gaze sharpened. "If you cannot prove that I cheated in any way, then you will apologise and compensate me for slandering my honour and reputation."

Alex paused, then continued evenly,

"I know you are poor and likely cannot afford much. So I will accept a single mid-grade Berserk Stone as compensation. That should be sufficient to teach you not to make accusations you cannot prove."

The audience collectively sucked in a breath.

They couldn't help but marvel at Alex's appetite. To think that someone so young dared to open his mouth and demand a mid-grade Berserk Stone.

Never mind a mid-grade stone—most of the people on this floor didn't even possess ten Berserk Stones in total, let alone the hundred shards required to equal the value of one.

As for actually seeing a mid-grade stone with their own eyes, perhaps only a handful present—aside from the underbosses—could claim such a thing.

All eyes turned toward Brieger.

Would he actually pay?

Feeling the weight of countless gazes upon him, Brieger felt a faint pressure press down on his chest. But more than pressure, what surged within him was rage.

'How dare you…?'

His glare burned into Alex.

Not only had Alex and his party injured and killed his men, but Alex—and worse, his women—had humiliated him openly. He wanted nothing more than to crush their skulls beneath his heel.

However, they were guests of the Warhammer—by virtue of their inn reservation. He couldn't touch them. At least, not openly.

Unless…

Brieger's expression suddenly smoothed.

"You say you didn't cheat, while I say you did," he said evenly. "In that case, let's settle this the way of the Wildlands. A duel."

A murmur rippled through the hall.

"You're the leader of a party, right?" Brieger continued. "Good. Send one champion from your side—aside from yourself—and I will do the same. The winner of the duel will be in the right. The loser will pay compensation."

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Why a champion?" he asked calmly. "Are you afraid to step up yourself?"

"Indeed, I am afraid," Brieger nodded without hesitation. "Afraid that after I kill you, there'll be no one left to pay my compensation."

"Haha!"

Alex laughed heartily, as though he had just heard the best joke of the night.

"Very well, you coward," he said, still smiling. "I'll humour you."

"You—" Brieger clenched his fist, veins bulging, but restrained himself.

"A duel has been formally issued, and the challenge accepted," a strange Orc suddenly appeared beside the high-roller table and announced solemnly.

"The duel shall take place at sunrise tomorrow. Challengers should prepare."

It was likely the shaman of the Copper-skinned Orc clan.

Alex inclined his head toward the Orc, then stood.

"I've lost interest in the game," he said casually. "Cash my chips and send the proceeds to the inn."

Without sparing the table another glance, Alex turned and left with his companions.

Rolfe stared at the towering stack of chips… then at the man walking away.

His thoughts were unreadable.

***

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