The atmosphere in the streets was youthful. Stray dogs shoved and barked at one another, adding themselves to the growing commotion beginning to unfold.
Karl walked at a measured pace. He had lived in Ten-Guno for around seven years, settled in the Boston district, a culturally dominant community over the surrounding foreigners. Drawing attention to oneself there was sensitive by nature, but that did not stop him from roaming its streets.
A mailman on a bicycle sped past, signaling the end of his workday. News was usually delivered at the end of the day, giving the common worker the opportunity to socialize firsthand with family or neighbors about the events that had occurred.
Sitting on a bench reading the newspaper, an old man commented without any clear listener.
"March 12th, 1925. We're only a few months away from the democratic elections. Speaking in elegant terms, the campaigns of the Renaissance and Beneficent Center political parties always focus on charity to present a good image to the public."
A casual listener like Karl would not truly be interested in that. Reputation was usually a façade or a vague indicator of true intentions, he thought.
'Certainly, the consensus of each person is different. Is our vote necessary, or merely a required formality for power?'
He stopped thinking about it. His walk led him out of the residential streets and into the Commercial District, stopping at the Beatrice La Gatta Casino.
He arrived, took off his coat, and began. His role here was simple: deal cards, keep the peace, and occasionally beat down some miserable fool who lost more than he should and got smart about it.
Midnight approached quickly, and the atmosphere inside betrayed excess and greed.
He took a small break from the table.
"We can agree there've been too many strange events these past few days. Crazy people announcing the end of the world or whatever, lunatics," Karl commented to his accomplice.
Pepe nodded. His valet uniform displayed his rank, his hair short and neat.
"It's already hard enough to reach old age alive, heh. But yeah, these days even most of the gangsters have started preparing their movements."
Karl looked at his square forehead and commented,
"Nothing to worry about as long as it doesn't unleash another mob like the one from a few years ago. Great empires do not collapse from external attacks, but from within, like dominoes."
"You're still pragmatic as ever, you know that?" Pepe leaned against the wall with crossed arms. "I've been playing around a little with Kenny's gang. I'm just considering the possibility of climbing the hierarchy, but what do you think?"
Karl closed his eye. He said nothing for a moment, then stood up with a frown.
"I'll only tell you this: keeping a low profile yields better results these days. You never know who might want to crush you out of whim or envy."
Having said that, he left the room. On his way back to his station, he observed the surroundings. His unfriendly appearance caused his table to be frequented mostly by newcomers.
An experienced gambler clearly would not care about such things, but there was always someone whose ego got inflated, believing they could easily crush a one-eyed old man.
'Let's see today's idiot.'
His poker table formed. Five gentlemen sat down respectively, and Karl assumed his place as dealer.
He began dealing the cards, his gaze fixed on every player. Karl smiled. Two players posted the small and big blind, two and one chips respectively.
As the round began, each player received two cards. One player slightly narrowed his eyes.
"I bet," announced a short man. He lowered his cards and placed ten chips into the pot. His expression remained calm, encouraging the others to take risks.
"I call." A thin man nodded.
"Same here," responded his competitor, somewhat bald beneath his hat.
Two players threw in ten and nine more chips from their stacks. The other two folded as soon as they could.
The pre-flop was established, and the pot reached thirty-three chips, a juicy reward to start the table. Greed shined in the eyes of those present as Karl dealt the flop. His hand moved slowly, revealing the Ace of Hearts, Queen of Spades, and Four of Clubs.
"What a dilemma, huh? Or maybe you gentlemen have something more," the short man felt confident. The smile on his face became evident. The thin man snorted.
"We're only getting started."
Then he checked and waited for his turn. The nearly bald man folded, and finally the short man checked as well. Karl then dealt a fourth card: the Jack of Diamonds. The short player's hand began tapping the table to the rhythm of a clock's ticking.
"I bet fifteen chips."
His wretched, almost mocking smile appeared once again. The thin man hesitated for a moment but took the risk.
"I'll call."
Karl glanced at everyone present. The folded players adjusted themselves and watched the table cautiously.
With that, the pot climbed to an impressive sixty-six chips, undoubtedly enough to make anyone drool. Those present maintained a penitential silence. The winner would soon reveal himself, and the fifth card appeared: the Queen of Clubs.
The thin man felt magnificent in that moment. His combination was three of a kind. His two cards were the King of Hearts and Queen of Diamonds, forming a very high set.
The short man felt tempted. It was a unique opportunity. He stopped tapping his hand and struck the table with a grin.
"I'm going all in then, as they say."
Karl raised an eyebrow. A decision as shameless as that would leave his rival in a dilemma. Was he bluffing, or was he serious? He looked at the thin man.
"Shit, I fold."
With that, every round concluded. The short man reveled as he revealed his cards: Two of Spades and Three of Clubs. He gathered his winnings.
"It's not always the strongest who wins, but the smartest, capisci?"
"Whatever you say, Manston. Shit, it was obvious that dwarf had nothing."
Karl had witnessed it more than once. Bluffs were often nothing but pure thuggery and blind confidence, or simply having an ugly enough face to disappoint your fellow gamblers.
Once again, the cards were dealt for a new round.
Karl sighed faintly and thought,
'They say poker is the only place in a casino where you don't depend on luck. How unfortunate, huh.'
Before long, the players stood up. The short man in particular grinned smugly, as if he had life firmly in his grasp, and commented:
"A pleasure, gentlemen. I'll be delighted to meet you again in my most desperate days."
Several glances followed him as he left. Karl took notice of this and withdrew from the place.
He put on his trench coat as he stepped outside and thought,
'One more night. I hope Pit is in shape for what's coming.'
He left the place and prepared himself to pursue his target for the night.