Jin stood at the entrance to the poker room, his massive frame making him a beacon of calm amidst the chaos of the casino floor. His arms were crossed, and at his feet, neatly stacked, were all of Alex's winnings from the slots—coins, tokens, and chips glittering under the dim casino lights. Alex had asked him to watch over them while he took a quick detour to the bathroom.
Moments later, Alex reappeared, looking as fresh as ever, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Thanks for holding down the fort, Jin," Alex said, clapping his bodyguard on the shoulder.
Jin nodded with his usual stoic demeanor, gesturing to the seat he had reserved for Alex at the poker table. "I got you a spot at the high-rollers' table," Jin said quietly. "The richest one in the casino."
The table, surrounded by veteran players with sharp eyes and even sharper instincts, looked like a viper's nest. These weren't the tourists or casual gamblers from the slots—they were seasoned poker sharks, and the stacks of chips in front of them told the story of just how dangerous they were.
Alex slipped into his seat, drawing the attention of every player at the table. He casually placed his AeroPods in his ears, pretending to settle in for a long and distracting game.
The veterans exchanged knowing glances, smug grins tugging at their lips. A newbie with headphones? It was like watching a lamb wander into the den of wolves. They had seen this before—players who needed "focus" to drown out the noise usually lacked the mental toughness for high-stakes poker. They thought they had him pegged.
What they didn't know was that Alex was about to run circles around them.
With a flick of his wrist, Alex discreetly activated Panorama Mode on his digital screen. The 360-degree view captured each player's expressions, their movements, and, most importantly, their tells. As the game began, he muttered under his breath, "Iris, monitor heart rates and facial cues. Feed the data to my Reminders app."
"Monitoring initiated. Heart rates and facial expressions tracked," Iris chimed back in her monotone voice.
"Oh, this is going to be rich," Kofi snickered through the AeroPods, his sarcastic tone ever-present. "A bunch of old-timers thinking they've got you figured out. I almost feel bad for them... almost."
At first, the veterans remained confident, smirking at each other as they eyed Alex. But as the hands progressed, their cocky expressions started to falter. Alex's raises were calculated, bold. His bluffs were flawless, and with each move, his stack of chips grew. The veterans shifted in their seats—small, almost imperceptible movements.
One player started tapping his foot under the table, another rubbed the back of his neck, beads of sweat forming on his brow. They exchanged uneasy glances, trying to hide their growing discomfort, but the tension at the table was palpable.
Alex's grin widened as the poker game progressed. He seamlessly combined Burst Mode to track every card thrown with Panorama Mode, which fed him the exact hands of his opponents. It was like having the ultimate cheat sheet, giving him an edge no ordinary player could dream of.
One of the older players, his fingers trembling slightly, pushed his chair back and stood up, muttering something about needing a break. Another veteran clenched his jaw, the confidence draining from his face as Alex raised the stakes again.
"Amateurs," Kofi muttered. "This is a massacre. I should've brought popcorn."
Suddenly, the PA system crackled to life, cutting through the background noise of the casino. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner in the main event! Jon McJones secures the victory via standing rear-naked choke against Brazilian sensation Rafael Silva!" The announcement was met with a roar of cheers from the sportsbook area.
"Hmmm," Alex smirked while watching his opponent's cards at once.
The poker game continued as one by one, the veterans folded, their chips sliding across the table in Alex's direction. Their earlier confidence had been replaced by frustration, their movements tense and jerky. By the time the final hand played out, the table had been wiped clean. Alex sat there, casually stacking his newfound fortune while the remaining players stared at him in stunned silence, still unable to comprehend how they had been taken down so easily.
Just then, the air in the room seemed to shift. The familiar presence of the Master entered like a shadow stretching across the poker table. The elderly man moved with purpose, his eyes cold and calculating as they swept over the scene. He smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes.
"Boy," the Master announced, his voice slicing through the room like a blade, "our little game ends here. Count your winnings."
Alex froze, his hand hovering over a stack of chips. "Wait—what? It's only 10PM!!"
The Master's eyes flickered with disdain. "The rules have changed. Now count your winnings."
Alex shot a quick glance at the digital display, his chips being totaled in real-time. The number flashed: 7,020,000. His heart sank. He was still about three million short of the target needed to win the Master's game.
Kofi's voice cracked through the silence, beaming with sarcasm. "Uh-oh, we've got a problem, buddy. Looks like we're a little short."
The Master's cold smile returned. "Three million short," he echoed. "Looks like you've lost."
For a moment, Alex's confidence wavered. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to win it all. He glanced back at the Master, frustration bubbling to the surface—but then, slowly, a knowing grin began to spread across his face.
The Master's smile faded. "Why are you smiling, boy?"
Alex's grin only grew wider, practically splitting his face. He knew something the Master didn't—something he couldn't possibly understand.
"Because," Alex said, barely able to contain his glee, "I've already won."
"Oh man, this is good," Kofi piped in, laughing. "You're grinning like an idiot, and he has no idea why. It's almost cruel... almost."
The Master's eyes narrowed as he stared at Alex, trying to decipher the reason behind his smug expression. But before he could ask any more questions, Alex stood up, scooping his winnings into a bag with practiced ease.
Before leaving, Alex stopped by the cashier's desk. The woman behind the counter smiled politely as he approached. "Excuse me, ma'am," Alex said, "how much did I win from my bet on Jon McJones?"
The cashier glanced at her screen and tapped a few buttons. "You won 3,100,000 dollars, sir," she said with a professional smile.
Alex's heart skipped a beat. The amount was perfect—it made up the difference. He had exactly what he needed. Kofi let out a low whistle in his ear.
"Well, I'll be damned. Look at you, Mr. Big Shot."
Alex turned back toward the poker room with his newfound fortune, the weight of his combined winnings both literal and figurative. He knew the game was over—at least for now—but in his mind, he had already won the biggest prize.
Meanwhile, Jin, standing at the edge of the poker room, observed everything with quiet intensity. The more he watched Alex, the more he was reminded of his Master—calm, cunning, and always one step ahead. It was uncanny.
"Incredible," Jin thought, marveling at Alex's performance. "They're like two sides of the same coin, so alike and different at the same time."
Of course, Jin was completely unaware of the extraterrestrial-level cheating that Alex had just pulled off with Kofi's help. "I guess I'll never know," Jin thought, shaking his head in amazement as Alex walked past him, his grin still plastered across his face.