The old man was still laughing contentedly, his face flushed with alcohol and the winning streak. He shook his pocket proudly, revealing the pile of colorful chips he had collected, a symbol of his wealth and victory that he had purposefully displayed. The sound of his loud and slightly hoarse laughter echoed in the relatively quiet room, disturbing the calm that usually existed in the place.
Natty held onto Lucian's arm tightly, her cold fingers gripping it firmly. Her face was pale, her lips trembling. "You should really stop now," she said with a shaky voice, full of concern. "You've lost twice and lost a lot of money. No need to push yourself." She looked at Lucian with teary eyes, showing her deep worry.
Lucian patted Natty's hands, his movements gentle but firm, calming his worries. "I was just luring him," he said quietly, his voice flat and calculated. "He's too confident now. With that amount I don't feel like I have much to lose..." He paused his sentence, a thin and mysterious smile expanding at the corners of his lips. Her hand was raised, her index finger touching her lips—a gesture to ask Natty to be quiet and stay calm. He winked once, a winch hidden behind a mask of his composure, as if sharing a secret with Natty. The small gesture showed that there was another plan he was making.
Lucian turned to the dealer, his gaze sharp and confident. He wasn't swayed by the old man's laughter or Natty's worries. In a calm and self-assured voice, he said, "I still want to continue the game," his tone firm, showing strong determination. "This time with a pretty big amount." He looked at the old man with a challenging stare.
The old man laughed heartily, his voice a bit hoarse from alcohol and excitement. He pointed at Lucian with a trembling finger. "You still haven't accepted your defeat, kid?" his voice dripping with mockery and condescension. "You think you can beat me? Your money won't be enough!" He took a swig of his whiskey confidently.
Lucian took a slow breath, then with a relaxed yet meaningful gesture, he placed 10 shiny gold chips on the table. His movements were measured and calculated, with not a hint of doubt or fear. The atmosphere at the table went silent instantly. All eyes were on the stack of gold chips. An incredible amount, 1 million ruphals was laid out on the table, creating a tense vibe. The casino went quiet all of a sudden. A few people around started to pay attention to their table.
The old guy was initially shocked to see the pile of gold chips, but then he burst out laughing, his voice a bit hoarse from the alcohol and excitement. He pointed at Lucian with a trembling finger, but his eyes sparkled with confidence.
"Ha, you're really bold, kid," he said, his voice sounding a bit surprised but still full of mockery. "That's why I hate kids like you. So daring to challenge me!" He downed the rest of his whiskey confidently, drawing more attention from the crowd. "I accept your challenge," he continued, with a confident and slightly cruel smile. "Put all your money on the table!" With a slightly shaky but still confident move, he placed his 10 gold chips on the table, matching Lucian's bet.
The dealer, who had been quietly observing all this time, finally spoke up, "Got it, since the players have agreed, the next round will begin." He looked at both players with a flat expression, but his eyes reflected the tension in the room. The atmosphere was getting more intense, the spectators holding their breath, waiting for the next round.
"Gotcha," Lucian muttered, a smirk spreading across his lips. He leaned back, resting his head on his hand.
The dealer, with a skilled and measured hand movement, dealt the next card. Lucian peeked at his cards—4 of Hearts and 5 of Diamonds. Not a great hand. Those two cards lay in front of him like two heavy, cold stones, crushing his hopes. He hid his disappointment behind a flat expression, a mask he had mastered well.
The old man across from him looked at his cards—King of Spades and 10 of Diamonds—with an ever-widening smile, full of confidence. He held back laughter, a victorious laugh that was almost unbearable, sure he was going to win again. His eyes sparkled with triumph, staring at Lucian with a look full of disdain and condescension.
The dealer flips the cards—6 of Diamonds, 7 of Spades, and Jack of Hearts. Lucian immediately sees the opportunity. If he gets a 3 or an 8, he'll have a straight! It's a slim chance, but enough to keep him in the game. Meanwhile, the old man has high cards, King and 10, but no strong combination yet. He's still confident, but the tension is starting to show on his face.
"I raise 5 blue chips," the old man says, his voice full of confidence, but there's a slight tremor that hints at a bit of doubt. He places the blue chips on the table, raising the bet.
Lucian carefully watched the old man's expression. He seemed confident, but not overly so, a sign that he might not have a very strong hand. Lucian pretended to hesitate, his eyes wandering for a moment as if he was weighing the risks. He took a deep breath, as if struggling with a tough decision.
"I'm gonna raise 5 blue chips too," Lucian said, his voice calm and flat, hiding his sharp thoughts. He added his chips to the table, matching the old man's bet.
The dealer flipped the fourth card—2 of Spades. Lucian still hadn't gotten a straight. Disappointment was hidden behind his calm facade. The old man tapped the table with his fingers, thinking for a moment. He weighed the risks, but his pride and confidence still dominated. He smirked, a smile full of disdain and certainty of victory.
"Raise, 10 blue chips!" he said, his voice filled with an almost arrogant confidence. He added the blue chips to the table, significantly increasing the bet.
Some spectators started whispering. The game was getting more intense, every breath felt heavy, every movement felt slow. Lucian knew this was the right moment to bluff, to turn the tables, to win this game. He had prepared himself for this moment.
Lucian watched the old man closely. His face was flushed, not just from alcohol, but also from the tension. Lucian gave a slight smile, a smile full of meaning.
"You're pretty confident, old man," Lucian said, his voice calm yet full of pressure, "But I'm curious, will your 'king' card be enough?" The line came out casually, but it carried a veiled threat.
The old guy was shocked, his eyes widened a bit, a reaction he couldn't hide. Lucian caught that reaction sharply. That surprised expression, a flash in his opponent's eyes, confirmed his suspicion. He had already guessed his card—most likely just a high card, King, without a strong combination. He had read his opponent very well, reading more than just the cards, he read his opponent's soul.
"Raising again, 5 gold chips," Lucian said, his voice calm but full of unwavering confidence. He added gold chips, which were worth much more than blue chips, to the table, dramatically increasing the stakes. His movements were calm, measured, yet full of hidden power.
The crowd whispered louder. This is a huge bet, a bet that decides the fate of the game. The air in the room felt increasingly thick, filled with a chilling tension. The old man looked a bit restless, sweat starting to dampen his forehead. He bit his lip, a small move that showed his nervousness. Lucian deliberately mentioned King, and his reaction confirmed it was true. He had managed to read his opponent's mind, mastering the game with his intelligence and sharpness.
"H-how did this brat know that?" muttered the old man, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. Doubt began to creep through his mind, a deadly doubt in the world of gambling. He doesn't want to look weak, but he also can't ignore the fact that his opponent has read his cards very accurately. His confidence, which was once so strong, is now starting to crumble.
"I, too, will add 5 gold chips," the old man said, his voice sounding a little forced, full of doubts he was trying to hide. He placed his gold chip on the table, matching Lucian's bet. The tension in the room reached its peak, like a time bomb ready to explode. All eyes are on the dealer, waiting for the next card that will determine the fate of this game.
The dealer flips the last card—8 of Diamonds. The card falls slowly, as if time is stretching, cranking up the tension in the room to its peak. Lucian gets a straight—4, 5, 6, 7, 8! A strong combo, a nearly guaranteed win. He hides his winning smile behind a calm expression, a perfect mask. The old man looks at his cards and realizes he only has a high King! He doesn't have any combination, just a weak high card against Lucian's straight. His confidence, once sky-high, crumbles in an instant.
But before the dealer asks them to reveal their cards, Lucian pushes his psychology further. He knows the old man is almost ready to give up, but he wants to make sure of his win. He takes a deep breath, pretending to hesitate, his eyes wandering as if he's considering something really tough.
"Wah, this is bad," Lucian muttered softly, his voice loud enough for the old man to hear, "does that old man have a 'flush'?" The sentence came out casually, but it carried a veiled threat, a question designed to make the opponent even more hesitant.
The old man mumbled, "Flush? I don't even have 3 of a kind!" His voice sounded shaky, full of panic. A sense of panic began to rise, gnawing at his remaining confidence. He realized he had been caught in a psychological game carefully crafted by Lucian.
"This brat, can he guess my card?!" muttered the old man, his voice almost inaudible, but full of disbelief and fear. "Maybe he also knows something I don't know..." The doubt grew stronger, eating away at his mind.
Doubt crept through his mind. And in the world of gambling, doubt is the biggest enemy. The confidence that was once so strong has now been shattered, replaced by fear and uncertainty. Lucian glanced at the old man with a calm expression, as if waiting for a decision, an expression full of sure victory. And finally, the old man gave up, losing not only by the cards, but also by the sharp psychology of the opponent.
"Tch, I fold!" he said annoyedly, throwing his card on the table violently, a gesture that showed his defeat and his anger. The sound echoed in the silent room, signaling the end of the game.
The crowd immediately erupted. The whispers turned into exclamations of surprise. Some people stood up from their seats, not believing what had just happened. Lucian smiled faintly, a calm and confident smile of victory. He slowly turned the card upside down, revealing 4 Hearts and 5 Diamonds. Two cards that looked weak, but had formed a deadly straight along with the cards on the table.
People were shocked. "Wow, he won with a straight..." whispers filled the room, full of amazement and disbelief. They didn't expect Lucian to win with such weak-looking cards at the start of the game. His skill in reading opponents and mastering the game became the center of attention.
The old man was stunned, his face red from a mix of alcohol, anger, and embarrassment. "WHAT?!" his voice rose, full of disbelief and anger. He didn't expect this kid to win with cards like that and worse, he folded before seeing the opponent's cards.
Lucian leaned back in his chair, a faint smile on his face, a smile full of sweet and bitter victory. "Thanks for the game, Old Man," he said, his voice calm and laced with hidden respect.
"YOU CHEATED!!!" the old man shouted, slamming his hand on the table hard enough to make it shake. His anger erupted; he couldn't accept his defeat. He was looking for a scapegoat, searching for a reason to cover up his shame.
Lucian stayed calm, his eyes fixed on the old man with a serene and meaningful expression. "Hmm? I'm just playing by the rules," he said, his voice calm and flat, without a hint of emotion. He didn't let his feelings get stirred by his opponent's anger. "Oh, are you saying you can't accept your loss and are accusing me of cheating?" The last line came out casually, but it had a sharp sarcasm that made some of the audience laugh.
The dealer, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke up, "Alright, this time the winner is this gentleman." He pointed at Lucian with a measured hand gesture, officially announcing his victory. His voice was calm yet firm, ending the tension that filled the room.
Lucian casually picked up his stack of chips, his movements measured and full of confidence. The stack, worth a lot, felt so light in his hands.
"Young Master! I really thought you would make me your stake if you lost..." Natty's voice broke the silence, sounding a bit worried and surprised. She approached Lucian, her expression a mix of admiration and concern.
"Why is she being so blunt," Lucian muttered to himself, "Natty, I won't take on any challenge without a solid plan." He gave a slight smile, a smile that held a lot of meaning.
With a big win in hand, Lucian got up from his seat and left the table, his movements calm and confident. He walked past the crowd of spectators who were still whispering in disbelief, leaving the old man still in shock over his loss.
"Alright, enough fun, time to get back to the original plan," he muttered, then walked over to the previous dealer.