NOVEL NEXT Chapter 93: Plans [III]
For all the laughter and drinks shared that night, this was the moment I had been waiting for.
The cards were dealt, the bets placed, and as the first rays of dawn began to creep through the grimy windows, I knew I had already won.
"Fold," Jones was the first to back out.
"Fold," Mark followed next.
Only Lyle, the unofficial leader of the trio, remained by the time the second last card was dealt on the table.
In my hand were two cards. An ace of spades and two of diamonds.
On the table were four cards.
A seven of hearts.
A king of clubs.
An eight of clubs.
And an ace of hearts.
Lyle's smirk was back, curling at the edges of his lips.
His fingers tapped lightly on the table, drumming out a rhythm only he could hear.
And his confidence had a weight to it.
He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease, but I caught the subtle flicker in his eyes as they darted to my face, searching for any crack, any tell.
"Your move, rich boy," he said, his voice smooth, almost lazy.
I let the silence stretch, holding his gaze as I reached for my glass, taking a slow sip of whiskey that had long since lost its burn.
Two cards in my hand. Two aces in total.
It wasn't a bad hand. But it wasn't a winning one, either.
Not yet.
I set the glass down carefully, the sound of it meeting the wood cutting through the tension.
"Raise," I said.
Lyle's smirk twitched. Just slightly. "But you have nothing to raise. What are you betting now?"
"The communicator device itself. It's a new model, it should still be worth a couple thousand Credits," I shrugged.
"...Are you sure you just don't wanna fold?" he asked.
"Why?" I laughed. "I'm already all in now. Afraid you'll have to pay me back when you lose?"
"Big talk for a man in underwear," he said, though his tone lacked the bite it had earlier.
"It's not the clothes that make the man," I replied smoothly. "It's the company he keeps. And tonight, I'm in excellent company."
Mark chuckled nervously, glancing between us, while Jones just grunted, crossing his arms as he leaned back.
Lyle's eyes narrowed, his smirk sharpening.
He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out something that glinted faintly in the light.
His badge.
He tossed it onto the pile like it was nothing more than a spare chip.
"I call," he said steadily, almost daringly.
I drew the top card from the deck and flipped it onto the table.
The final card was dealt.
An ace of diamonds.
Lyle and I revealed our hands at the same time, everyone's breath hitched.
On the table were — an eight of clubs, a king of clubs, a seven of hearts, an ace of hearts, and now, the ace of diamonds.
Lyle held two kings — spades and diamonds.
I held an ace of spades and a two of diamonds.
We both had the same hand. A three-of-a-kind.
But I had won. Since aces trump kings.
…The room froze and everything went still.
It was the kind of stillness that made every small creak of the old bar seem louder. The only other noise in the room came from the static of the broken jukebox.
The three officers in front of me looked more startled than helpless deer in headlights. Their jaws were practically dropped to the floor and their wide eyes were full of utter disbelief.
It was as if they hadn't expected this outcome at all.
Of course they hadn't.
After all, they were so sure they'd win.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" I grinned and started collecting the cards.
Lyle threw me a glare that was somewhere between surprised and defensive. His smirk was gone, replaced by a tight line that made his face look sharper and meaner.
"Notice what?" he said, his voice low, but it lacked the edge it had before.
I let the cards shuffle in my hands. "You're not as subtle as you think, Officer Lyle. The little flick of your wrist when you deal, the way Mark always bets high when you've got a good hand, and Jones here? He's too good at folding when the stakes are just right. Did you think I wouldn't notice the furtive glances or the secret hand signals you three throw at each other?"
Mark looked like he wanted to sink into his chair, his face pale as he stammered, "I-I didn't—"
"Relax," I interrupted, not even glancing at him. My eyes stayed on Lyle. "I expected you to cheat. In fact, I was counting on it."
Jones leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze narrowing.
"And why's that, boy?" His tone was quiet, but there was steel beneath it.
"Because it gave me an excuse to do this."
I stood, flipping the cards onto the table in a quick motion. They spread out like a fan, and there it was — proof of the marked deck.
Despite shuffling the deck thoroughly, I laid out four aces in a row. Then I laid out four kings, and then four queens.
Lyle's face darkened, and he opened his mouth, probably to deny it, but I didn't give him the chance.
"Save it," I said, doing my best to not laugh in his face. "You thought I was just another stupid noble boy from outside who you could scam easily. But now you owe me everything on this table and more. And I expect to be paid in full."
"Now, wait just a damn minute—" Lyle began, standing abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor.
Enjoy exclusive adventures from empire
"No," I interrupted again, taking a step forward and grabbing his badge from the table – the badge he himself had wagered in the game. "You don't get to back out now. A bet's a bet, and you lost."
His smirk flickered back, but it was weaker this time, almost forced. "Okay, listen here, kid. We all had a great night. Let's just end it on a high note. It was just a friendly game. You made your point — we cheated and you still won. Now why don't you be on your way and we don't have to make this ugly."
I chuckled while twirling his badge between my fingers. And the moment he tried to reach for the badge, I pulled it back just out of his grasp, letting it dangle like a bait.
"We can't do that. You see, I've been taught to settle my debts since I was a child. So either you pay me what I owe. Or… we can make this ugly."
Lyle didn't answer, but his hand twitched toward his side — toward the holster beneath his coat.
I tilted my head, letting a lazy grin spread across my face. "You really don't want to do that."
But he didn't heed my warning.
The room's atmosphere shifted.
Golden particles of light began to seep from my skin and coalesce atop my shoulder, subtle at first, like the glow of a candle, but it grew, brighter and more alive.
Mark let out a strangled gasp, practically falling out of his chair in his haste to back away. "H-He's an Awakened!"
Jones acted more calmly than I thought. He went still as stone, but I saw a hint of fear and wariness flicker in his sharp gaze.
And Lyle?
He froze, his hand hovering inches from his weapon.
For a fleeting moment, I thought he might be smart enough to back down.
But no.
He wasn't.