The Final Desperation

248 – Escalation



Word of the gambling quickly spread across the ship. It was hard for it not to, given that the commotion had been big enough to warrant official intervention. One of the people who heard about it was Harris, a teenager traveling with his wealthy family. Intrigued by the games the workers played, he gathered some friends and hosted his own session.

It was the most fun he'd had in a long time. Soon, these sessions became more frequent and widespread among the guests. Eventually, the demand grew so much that the company behind the cruise sent out a supply ship loaded with machines, professionals, and other equipment needed to set up a makeshift casino onboard.

Upon opening, many guests visited the room out of curiosity about the new novelty. While most grew bored after a while, a few became regulars, becoming familiar with the dealers and the waitresses in bunny-girl outfits. Fair to say, most of the patrons were younger men who had nothing better to do.

Harris and his group were no different. In fact, they were the leading force pushing for the development of the games. From new rule variations to unique stakes, they tried it all at a rapid pace. However, none of them gave Harris the same rush as his first game. Thus, he conceived of a new idea.

What if, instead of gambling among themselves for negligible stakes, they brought in someone more desperate for victory? Someone who would treat their petty pocket money as a hard-earned reward? Someone like… the destables below?

It was an absurd idea—preposterous, even—but Harris couldn't help but consider it. As far as he could tell, there were no downsides, and it was the ultimate solution to his boredom.

Thus, he immediately got to work and found someone to join the games. At first, his pick was unwilling to get involved, but that all changed when Harris promised 100 remons for every victory. In return, the group would get to slap the man every time he lost a round. They were essentially paying someone to be their punching bag, but with extra steps.

For a poor man like the worker, this deal was too good to pass up. And so, the games began. In the end, the worker won only three rounds out of the twenty-plus they played. This was unavoidable, since Harris and his crew were more familiar with the modified rules than he was.

Nonetheless, he left with a wide grin, despite the broken skin on his face and his swollen cheeks. After all, he had earned half a week's salary in just a few hours of work.

When the man got back, a worried acquaintance asked about his injuries. But instead of brushing him off with a perfunctory answer, the worker bragged about his experiences and wore his injuries with pride.

Everyone quickly heard about the situation and grew envious of his fortune. They all wished it had been them instead. Yet in their daydreams, they failed to consider the implications of this event. They were too caught up in fantasy to think clearly.

In fact, only Genji saw the potential pitfall forming beneath their feet, ready to drag them under and swallow them whole. However, he didn't voice his doubts since he knew they wouldn't believe him. After all, greed often blinds one's judgment.

The next morning, events unfolded exactly as Genji had predicted. In their eagerness to be selected, the crowd fervently raised the stakes, with some even going so far as to offer themselves as literal punching bags for the group. It was insane.

Luckily for them, Harris settled only for body graffiti today, which only fueled their craze and made them more eager to be selected. After all, the punishment was negligible compared to the potential gains.

As the group returned to the upper deck, Genji noticed a faint yet condescending smirk on Harris's face. They had laid out the bait, and the fish had bitten. Now, they just had to wait for the fish to grow tired before they could reel in the hook.

And reel them in they did. Over the next few rounds, the punishments gradually escalated, from harmless pranks to painful bruises. Despite this, the workers continued to fight over the limited slots, treating them like prizes to be won at an auction. Harris watched all of it with sadistic glee, deriving unprecedented levels of pleasure from their suffering.

This eventually culminated in an extreme final bet where the participant had to gamble their blood for money. The exact ratio was undisclosed, but the participant's eyes were bloodshot during the games. Why did this matter? Because the staff had opened the casino for everyone to watch.

When Wade arrived, the participant had already lost half a liter of blood. A suction tube was attached to his arm, ready to draw more with each loss.

Seeing this, Genji couldn't help but joke that they really might be organ traffickers. After all, if they had a contraption as bizarre as this one, why wouldn't they have one for the more profitable organs? Maybe that walk-in freezer they'd been using for fish actually served a dual purpose.

The players went back and forth for several rounds, but the worker gradually lost ground. It was subtle, but Genji noticed some sneaky movements from the dealer every time he shuffled the cards. They were cheating and rigging the game in their favor!

'Vampires. All of them. Can't even settle for a fair game.'

Until finally, Harris revealed a game-winning hand. After doing the math, they announced that the participant would have to give up 10 liters of blood—more than the human body even contained at full capacity. The participant went pale and fell off his chair.

Harris approached the man with a triumphant grin and offered an alternative deal: a digit for every 2 liters.

"Come on. Including your fingers and toes, you have 20. It won't be too much to lose 5 of them," Harris said in a sing-songy voice as someone passed over a knife. "Do you want to do honors yourself, or should I help you?"

To add further pressure, his goons surrounded the man and slowly closed in on him. Left with no choice, he cut off three toes and two fingers—just enough to not drastically impede his daily life. Then he took his winnings and limped downstairs.

"Anyone else?" Harris asked in an amused tone. "I promise the prize will only be bigger."

But no one dared to accept his invitation anymore. It was a harsh wake-up call. With that, the intense day of gambling came to an end, and the workers retreated to their quarters.

It was at that moment that the cruel reality of their situation dawned on them: they were merely hired staff—practically worthless and subject to their superiors' worst whims. And there was nothing they could do about it. What a somber realization.

*Tap tap tap*

Wade restlessly played with his chips as he carefully pondered his next move. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, reflecting the bright overhead lights beaming down on him. However, his mind was too transfixed by the cards in his hand to notice this discomfort. He gulped and wiped his sweaty hand on his pants before pushing his pile of chips toward the center of the table.

"All in!" He announced through gritted teeth.

His opponents exchanged glances, shrugged, and pushed their cards toward the dealer. The dealer met each of their gazes for confirmation before silently collecting the discarded cards. Then he turned to the last participant, awaiting his decision. The man drummed his fingers on the table for several seconds before placing his cards down and leaning into Wade's face.

"You don't think you can actually win, do you?" he asked, staring into his eyes.

"Why don't you find out?" Wade shot back, refusing to lose momentum. The man's breath tickled his skin, but the teen held firm, unwilling to give his opponent even the slightest clue.

They held their positions for several long seconds before the man backed away with a wide grin. "Then I will," he said, sliding back into his seat and pushing all his chips toward the center.

The dealer collected the pile, flipped over the last card, and gestured for them to do the same. Without wasting a moment, they both revealed three out of five cards.

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They looked over each other's cards before the man casually turned over his fourth. When Wade saw the result, a sense of relief washed over him. Yes, this was it. He had won. It didn't matter what card his opponent had left—it wouldn't beat his hand.

Thus, Wade confidently flipped over his last cards, ready to claim victory. Yet as he displayed his final card, he realized it was different from what he remembered. Wade froze as cold sweat broke out across his back.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" His opponent's smug voice sounded in Wade's ear as he revealed his last card. "Can't bluff no more?"

Wade stiffly turned his head toward him, a harrowing realization sinking in. "YOU! YOU SWAPPED MY CARD!"

The man's grin widened into a taunting smirk, silently acknowledging the accusation without a care in the world. He had won, and there was nothing Wade could do about it.

"Bastard!" Wade lashed out at the man, but a group of bodyguards in black suits intercepted him. Wade struggled intently in their hands, but they easily dismissed his efforts.

"NeXt time, dOn't blUFf sO muCh or you mIgHt geT buRnEd aGAin!" The man added another mocking comment in a squeaky voice before waving his hand dismissively.

Understanding his intentions, the bodyguards dragged Wade away and threw him outside like a stray dog, along with the other desperados that night. Wade stared absentmindedly at the casino, still in disbelief at the turn of events.

Fury and indignation coursed through his veins, threatening to erupt like a volcano, but he eventually suppressed them, knowing they would only worsen his situation. After all, in today's society, there were countless ways to silence a defenseless young man like him—especially given his opponent's many connections to corrupt government officials.

Once those emotions faded, an intense helplessness and despair took hold. That was all the money he had - now gone due to a dirty trick. And the worst part? It was for his sister's treatment!

His fingernails dug into his palm as self-loathing took over. 'Stupid! Stupid! You should have quit while you were ahead! Dammit all!'

Wade kicked a trash can to vent his frustrations as he stumbled back home. When he reached the door, he took several deep breaths to steady himself before shakily inserting the key into the doorknob.

As he entered, a bright, hopeful voice greeted him. "How is it, brother? Did it work out?"

Wade recoiled at the sound. Looking up, he saw a sickly girl in a wheelchair waiting for him in the entryway. "Noka? You're still awake?"

"Of course! How could I sleep? You said you found a well-paying job. I had to be here to welcome you back! So, how did your first day go? Will you be hired long term?"

Wade averted his gaze in shame. He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth—that he hadn't gotten a proper job as he'd claimed and had gambled away all their money instead.

Noka immediately noticed his depressed state and comforted him. "It didn't work out? That's fine. We can slowly accumulate our savings. No rush. I can wait for my treatment!" Noka gave a gentle smile, trying to reassure Wade.

However, this only worsened Wade's guilt. "I-I-" he stuttered with quivering lips.

"It's okay. It's okay. No need to say anything else," Noka continued. "We all make mistakes sometimes. As long as we can get back up and learn from them, it's an acceptable outcome. Plus, it's not like you lost everything, right? We still have savings we can fall back on until you get your next interview."

Wade grew more disheartened, evoking a sense of unease in Noka.

"Wade?" Noka asked again, anxiety creeping into her voice as she lightly pulled on his sleeve. However, Wade remained silent. The longer it dragged on, the more Noka feared the worst. Eventually, it culminated in a final dreadful question. "Wade? We do still have our savings... right? Right?"

"I-I lost it all," Wade finally responded.

A suffocating moment of silence hung over them like a heavy weight before Noka's grip tightened around Wade's arm. "You! HoW cAn yOU bE so StUPiD!?!" A distorted voice resounded from her throat. "DoN't YoU caRE aT alL whAt haPPEns to ME?!?"

This sudden change in tone startled Wade. Looking down, he noticed his sister's face melting like wax, revealing hideous black flesh hidden beneath. Tendrils peeled off the surrounding scraps of skin, further amplifying her grotesque appearance. Terror shot through Wade's heart. Whatever this monster was, it certainly wasn't his sister!

Wade yanked at his arm, but the monster's iron grip held firm. He tried again and again, but to no avail. He was trapped, forced to watch as the tendrils extended from the monster's face and latched onto him. They felt cold, slimy, and, most unsettlingly, hair-like. That was the last thing he remembered before they pulled him into the monster, causing them to become one.

The next moment, Wade's eyes shot open as he jolted upright, gasping for breath amidst the rocking waves and soft moonlight. He was back on the ship. Loud snores and the funky odor of wet socks assaulted his senses.

He calmed down and recognized the previous experience for what it was: a nightmare - an unpleasant one, yes, but a nightmare nonetheless.

'Still, what the frick was that? Since when do I have such terrifying nightmares?'

Wade tried to go back to sleep, but his restless mind kept him awake. After several minutes of tossing and turning, he gave up and decided to take a walk. The floorboards creaked under his bare feet, bringing him a small wave of comfort. After some aimless wandering, he arrived on the lower deck and leaned against the railing.

The night breeze brushed against his skin, dispersing the lingering sweat. Wade gazed into the horizon and inwardly swore he would never gamble in this life. Just the dream of it was already a nightmare, let alone following through with it in reality.

'Don't worry, Noka. I'll complete this job, and we'll get you your treatment. I won't take any risks,' he affirmed as he fiddled with his locket.

Meanwhile, Genji watched from a distance, curious why the young man was up at this hour. It was unusual, since most workers should have been fast asleep, resting for the next day's work.

He also noticed a wisp of purplish-black energy swirling around the locket. It was faint and could easily have gone unnoticed, if not for Genji's sharp senses and the fact that it seemed newly formed. The energy gave him a familiar feeling, similar to the resentment left behind by a wronged soul, yet different at the same time.

It felt as if it were derived from a similarly negative emotion, though more abstract and less intentional.

'Is it fear?' Genji speculated. 'It would make sense. If resentment can generate curses, then there's no reason fear can't do the same.'

Wanting a closer look, Genji approached Wade and struck up a conversation. "Fancy seeing you here. Do you also have insomnia problems?"

Wade glanced over, recalled who Genji was, and inwardly clenched his rear. Isn't he the one with the strange sexual orientation?

Realizing this, Wade subtly inched away, not wanting to get involved with him. To his relief, Genji simply stood there, peering at the distant waters where the reflection of the full moon shimmered.

"The night is calming," Genji continued. "It soothes the mind and allows the body to relax. There's no work to worry about, no people to please, and no sun to burn you. If you can regulate your condition properly, you can get away with going a few days without sleep."

Then he took out a box of cigarettes, popped one into his mouth, and offered Wade the box. Wade declined, and Genji brought a lighter to his face. After a few flicks, the cigar ignited, and a strangely colored fume drifted from it. But due to the dim lighting, Wade didn't notice this discrepancy.

"I'm a salesperson," Genji said after a puff. "I approach people and try to convince them to buy shit they don't need." He took another wiff before staring up at the sky, as if contemplating his life decisions. "One hell of a job."

Wade paused for a few moments before awkwardly asking, "Then what made you get on this ship?"

"The same reason as most people here," Genji replied. "I needed money. For a loved one. You?"

"Same," Wade answered after a few seconds. "My sister is ill and needs treatment."

"Must be tough. Do you not have parents or anyone else you can rely on?"

"They passed away a few years back. Supposedly due to an accident. None of my other relatives wanted anything to do with us afterward."

"Figures. That's society for you," Genji lamented. "Become a burden, and you're the first they ditch. Become successful, and they're the first to approach you. What a fucked-up world we live in. That's money for you—makes even the devil turn the millstone."

Genji took another puff from his cigarette before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, can you tell me about that locket of yours? It looks like an antique and might be worth some money. Have you considered selling it?"

Wade shook his head. "It's not worth much. My dad got it from a small pawn shop as a birthday present for me. The owner told him it's a knockoff made by a subpar imitation artist."

"That's interesting. Most pawn shops wouldn't have revealed that information to a stranger. Is your dad acquainted with this owner?"

"He occasionally provided some wares as a side hustle. A decent source of pocket change, if I must say so."

"That's such a cool background story," Genji said with admiration. "Much better than my lighter here - just bought it from a random store on the way here. But these cigars? They're my pride and joy. Crafted them myself from the finest ingredients!"

Genji waved his box with a sense of accomplishment, causing Wade to take a step back. Genji noticed the discomfort creeping back into Wade's eyes and decided to divert the topic. "Sorry, I got too excited. You know how it is when you have something to be passionate about."

Wade hummed in response but refrained from making any comments. It was clear he didn't share such passions.

"By the way, I never got your name," Genji said after a moment of silence.

"Wade," Wade bluntly replied.

"Nice to meet you, Wade. I'm Gordon. Gordon Gekko." Genji held out his hand, but Wade only stared at it hesitantly. Not wanting to make things awkward, Genji smoothly turned the gesture into a head scratch. "Then let's call it a night. It was nice talking to you, Wade, but you should get some rest. It'll be a long day tomorrow."

With that, Genji gave a light wave and walked back below deck. Wade watched him leave and inwardly wondered why he had revealed so much to a total stranger—especially someone he vowed to avoid.

Perhaps it was to take his mind off his nightmare, or because he wanted to confide in someone about his troubles, but he had been noticeably more talkative in that conversation than he had been over the past few days.

'I guess the stress must be getting to me,' he thought before returning to the dorms.

Yet what Wade failed to realize was that Genji had begun documenting the effects of a certain drug as he walked out of sight. This was an excerpt from Genji's notebook.

Tetradyoxyde Compound#142:

The compound has been confirmed to be effective in normal individuals during the first phase. Its effects include increased trust in those around them, a greater willingness to be honest, and a slight reduction in stress levels. It's unknown if the effects will scale to higher step beings, but it is worth testing with more potent ingredients.


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