The Years I Was The Gambling God

Dark picked up a Three Aces playing card, holding it with a sense of caution as if afraid it would vanish. He turned it towards me and inquired in a hushed tone, "You claimed that skilled gamblers can recognize special playing cards. Tell me, what is this?" Dark, who stood tall and menacing, now displayed a childlike innocence in his actions.

"Clubs of 3..." I uttered, leaving Dark bewildered. Despite his repeated scrutiny, he failed to discern any anomaly. "How can this be? And this one?" he persisted.

"Diamonds of 6!"

"And this?"

"Hearts of Jack!"

"What about this one?"

"Are you quite finished?"

Such antics seemed futile, but Dark had grown convinced that there was indeed a problem with the cards. With a crisp sound, the tempered glass on the counter shattered under Dark's fist, prompting a loud outburst of curses towards Ranulph for deceiving him with skilled gambler cards.

After a brief tirade, Dark swiftly corrected himself, muttering, "No, can't curse his mother; she's a good woman. I'll have to refer to her as my aunt. Curse his father, both he and his father are cut from the same cloth, a bunch of scoundrels..."

The nearby supermarket owner, already pale with shock, found himself entangled in the situation. Familiar with the cards now, I anticipated Dark's impending burst of anger. I thought he might storm off to confront Ranulph, demand his money back, and wreak havoc. However, to my surprise, after examining the cards, Dark sighed, "Damn it, let it go. Even if I were to demand my money back, he wouldn't have it. For the sake of face, I'll let it slide. Consider me blind for considering that scoundrel a brother. I won't repay what I owe him. In the future, I'll pretend he doesn't exist..."

Dark then turned towards the owner, adding, "And you, you're no saint either. Today, you won't see a cent for this glass or the cards!"

I could only watch with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. Such was Dark—simple, almost foolish, yet endearing.

Exiting the supermarket, Dark appeared downtrodden. He asked me how I recognized the cards, to which I simply mentioned a prior encounter, divulging no further details. While I initially intended to head home, Dark trailed behind me until we neared my residence. It was then that he requested we have a drink together.

However, having repaid Ranulph and with only a meagre sum left, Dark felt uneasy about the expenses. Observing his hesitation, I calmly remarked, "It's no trouble, I can treat you."

After a moment of contemplation, Dark slapped his thigh suddenly and exclaimed, "How could I forget that place? Let's go, I'll take you there where drinks and food are in the house. But, a word of caution, the place is rife with gambling, so best not to partake. There are many troublemakers inside..."

In Dark's eyes, I was merely a novice gambler who happened to know about marked playing cards. Nonetheless, this arrangement suited my intentions well. I could continue to assess his character and potential within the realm of gambling.

Among the eight officials of gambling sects, apart from the "recruiters" mentioned before, another role exists—the "enforcer." Their function is akin to that of a thug or enforcer, stepping in when cheating fails to resolve conflicts, and resorting to physical means if necessary. Dark seemed well-suited for such a role, which was why I had exposed Ranulph's cheating to him and accompanied him to identify the marked cards.

Dark led me to a rundown street in the central district. Amidst towering buildings, this area exuded a sense of neglect and decay, with its weathered bricks and grey stone pathways. Stepping onto the street, the usual bustle and clamour of daily life greeted us—vendors haggling, the sizzle of cooking, the clinking of glasses, and the laughter of children wafting from the cramped tenements.

Approaching a dilapidated building, Dark pointed inside and said, "Here it is!" Glancing upward, we spotted three rust-stained characters on the rooftop: Chess and Card Room.

Inside, an open room welcomed us with oil-stained tables and worn chairs, where a group of men devoured their meals with fervour. Upon Dark's arrival, a kitchen worker popped out and greeted him, sparking a banter about his absence and financial endeavours, to which Dark replied with a request for some dishes and a spot to drink.

Seated, Dark gave me a brief overview of the place. He had once managed affairs here before growing tired of the monotony. Despite its humble setting, the establishment enjoyed a reputable status in Harbin. Daily mahjong tables numbered in the hundreds, while poker, Pai Gow, and dice games catered to dozens. The room where we dined was reserved for gamblers, with a constant flurry of activity and no charge for food or drink.

According to Dark, many nearby residents frequented the place even without gambling, coming solely for the meals. The owner, too, welcomed them with open arms, indifferent to their lack of play. As for the owner's revenue, it stemmed from table fees, with mahjong costing fifty per person and two hundred per table. Higher-stakes games incurred fees of four hundred or more per table. Games like poker and Pai Gow had a separate commission system, with a five per cent cut if the banker won over two thousand, while smaller winnings went untaxed.

Listening with fascination, I calculated that the haphazard management style likely yielded daily earnings not less than fifty thousand for the owner. Though Dark and I had planned to drink, his revelations dampened my enthusiasm. I suggested that he finish his meal before showing me around.

Despite his agreement, Dark repeatedly warned me of the shady characters and expert gamblers present, urging me to observe without participating. I pondered his caution, wondering—expert gamblers? Wasn't that precisely who I was?

After dining, we ascended the rickety wooden stairs with Dark leading the way to the second floor. Glancing around, it became evident that his warnings held merit. Even the corridors were lined with mahjong tables, while poker and Pai Gow games were housed on the fourth floor.

As we ascended, the fourth floor teemed with activity, bustling with gamblers and games. Dark held a certain reputation here, receiving nods and greetings from those around him, who showed a mix of respect and wariness. Yet, the most intriguing sight was when, after a circuit of the floor, Dark found himself four hundred dollars richer, a gift from a winning banker.

Pausing at a poker table deep inside the room, the dealer, who was shuffling cards, greeted Dark cheerfully upon his arrival, "Isn't this my dear brother? Long time no see. Care to join in a few rounds?"