Of the group, Noel was the first to arrive at the casino.
The moment he stepped inside, he was greeted by a vast open hall filled with no less than a hundred different game machines, all of them surrounded by young patrons caught up in their play.
Noel tried his hand at a few games, but unfortunately, he lost money.
Still, he hadn't invested much, so even if he lost it all, he wouldn't feel too bad.
Then, with a sudden thought, he decided to raise the stakes. He had already lost some money anyway — losing a bit more didn't matter.
The outer facilities of the casino were flashy and abundant, but that was all just a façade. The real gambling halls lay deeper inside.
Noel walked straight toward a small side door — a rule of sorts, one only seasoned gamblers knew.
Compared to the outer hall, the inner casino was much smaller. The patrons here were dressed in expensive clothing, their noble backgrounds obvious at a glance.
The place even offered a complimentary buffet, with unlimited wine service.
Behind the bar counters, expensive bottles were neatly displayed — it was clearly a space reserved for the wealthy.
Noel headed directly toward the "Big or Small" tables. The reason was simple: the game was quick, and the rules were straightforward. The dealer would shake a cup of dice, then players placed their bets.
"Big" and "Small" paid even odds. A pair paid triple. A "leopard" — three of a kind — paid ten times the bet. But if no one wagered on leopard and it came up, the house took everything.
Noel exchanged some chips at the counter. He wasn't aiming for anything big — just playing casually. If he lost, so be it.
Naturally, he wandered to one of the Big/Small tables. About ten players were already gathered there.
Scanning the table, Noel noted a strange, square-faced man in a plain business suit — but before him sat the largest stack of chips, more than two hundred thousand by Noll's estimate.
Another figure caught his eye: a host-like waiter in a sharp suit, with an air of a male escort. He too had a large stack — around a hundred thousand.
The one with the least was a fat middle-aged man, down to just a thousand chips. Judging from the overflowing ashtray beside him, it was clear his luck had been poor all day — he must have lost heavily already.
From his clothes and trinkets, though, he looked like a nouveau riche type.
Clatter, clatter!
The dealer shook the dice with a calm expression, then slammed the cup down sharply on the table. "Place your bets!" she said evenly.
She looked to be in her early twenties, with striking looks and a figure that drew attention.
Perhaps because of that, her table had more players gathered than the others. Even those not betting stood around to watch.
But what drew Noel's attention was not her beauty — it was her technique. Though young, her handling of the dice was practiced and precise.
Beside her stood a boy about Noel's age, likely her assistant.
Noel tossed all of his chips onto "Small." (There were three dice. 4–10 counted as Small, 11–17 as Big, while triples made a Leopard.)
Truthfully, he wasn't confident. Games like these were all chance anyway — play for fun, maybe get lucky and win. If not, just accept the loss.
Even if he lost right away, he could always grab some wine afterward and relax. Why not?
Once most bets were down, the dealer declared flatly: "No more bets!"
There were many bets on Big — close to ten thousand in total. For Small, only Noll and the square-faced man wagered. Almost no one dared bet on Leopard — the odds were too slim.
"Open!"
The dealer lifted the cup. The dice showed 1, 4, 3 — total 7, Small.
"Small again!? Just my damn luck…"
The fat middle-aged man cursed, lighting another cigarette with a sour expression.
"Not bad at all! A real man has sharp eyes and guts. You've got potential, boy — you're on the path to becoming a true man!" the square-faced man declared to Noel.
"I was just playing for fun. Didn't expect to get lucky," Noel replied.
Though inwardly, he muttered: Lucky is lucky, but what's with that weird line of yours?
"May your luck stay with you," the man added.
"Thanks. I'll take that blessing," Noel answered.
Though the money itself didn't matter to him, a win was still a win. Even the smallest prize was something to be happy about.
The second round began.
Noel once again placed all his chips on Small.
Thanks to his earlier win, his stack had already grown substantially.
The move drew startled glances from the table — it was rare to see someone go all-in two rounds in a row. And this youth looked inexperienced, like a greenhorn who had never set foot in a casino before.
A rookie like that, not knowing when to quit, was surely bound to lose everything.
The fat man shoved his own remaining chips onto Big and glared at Noel. "Kid, you've gotta know when to stop, got it?"
Perhaps it was because he'd lost so much himself, but watching someone else win so easily made his face flush with frustration. It was only natural, given the circumstances.
Noel didn't bother responding. There was no point.
"No more bets… Open!" the dealer announced.
2, 2, 3 — total 7, Small!
Noel had won again.
Could this be… the legendary "gambling spirit"?
Stories told of a man called Daozai Chen — who once ruled the casinos, turning 20J into 37 million J.
Was his current situation similar? Could it be that he was possessed by that same spirit?
Still, Noel knew the saying well: The longer you gamble, the more certain you are to lose.
He had already won enough. It was time to step back.
He headed to one of the bars, ordering a non-alcoholic cocktail.
To his surprise, the dealer's young assistant followed and sat across from him.
Wait, what? Just because I won two rounds, they've already put someone on me?
This casino was dangerous. He had won purely on luck, but it looked like someone wasn't convinced.
"Sir, your cocktail," the bartender said politely, placing the drink in front of him.
"Thank you," Noel replied.
Though he and the assistant sat face-to-face, neither said a word.
Still, Noel could feel it — the boy kept stealing glances at him, watching closely from the corner of his eye.
Was he being monitored now?
But for what purpose? Noel didn't know.
So for the moment, he chose not to act. Better to keep things peaceful.
Sipping his cocktail leisurely, he quietly observed his surroundings — his vigilance growing sharper.
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