Dokeshi March ~ 28!

Actually getting inside the casino turned out to be very anticlimactic, even if Grant was utterly hollow inside from nerves. The gate guards were more focused on the commotion caused by the fallen building and their trapped compatriots than the downtrodden people trying their luck inside the casino. While they shuffled forward through the arched door, Sarge filled Grant in on the results of their trap.

<According to your cultivation levels, you defeated one Wielder and two Vassals in that trap.> Grant was about to make a pithy comment about his genius when Sarge stopped him. <Oh, and you killed another Vassal. The other guards must have just been regular cultivators, so you didn’t get credit for them. Still, killing one and defeating four; that’s pretty good for a single fight! You are getting very close to advancing to level twenty.>

“Never tell Suki that I killed some people. I think she was expecting them all to be able to survive a simple falling building. Anyone from February could have, after all.” While Grant wasn’t exactly distraught over killing one of the guards, he couldn’t help but feel bad about being responsible for someone’s death without even knowing what they looked like. There was no telling how many of the other guards had died, since they wouldn’t show up in his cultivation system.

<A leader doesn’t always get to know the faces of those who die because of his orders. A leader just does the next right thing.>

Grant quietly contemplated Sarge’s assertion. “Is it really that simple? Just ignore the deaths of those that stand against me?”

<That’s not what I said.> The venom in Sarge’s voice made Grant freeze up. <Leaders determine the fates of thousands because they must. The weight of that responsibility shouldn’t feel light. Duty is heavier than a mountain, and you’ll be holding the entire world on your shoulders one day.>

Grant decided to meditate on that advice when he next had a free moment. For now, he decided to focus on the next phase of their plan. He leaned in close to speak into Suki’s ear so he didn’t have to shout over the background noise. “You head straight for the poker tables, and I’ll go wherever there aren't a lot of people.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Suki looked Grant over, straightening out his cloak to better hide his rubble-dusted appearance. “You clearly didn’t forget that we're supposed to look like poor and starving peasants, not proud warriors ready for battle. You’re forgetting to do one thing, though.”

Grant raised his eyebrow in confusion, so Suki sent a sharp punch toward his gut, which he managed to lightly slap away. “Hunch over, you lummox!”

Grant obeyed promptly, though he was proud that she hadn’t managed to land even a sneak attack on him in several days. Following her advice was easy enough for him: he just pretended that he was back working under Randall. That thought in mind, he sunk in to make himself seem smaller, his slightly distracted and worried expression blending him in with the crowd in an instant. It was actually easier for him than for her, even despite their height differences.

Suki just didn’t have the same life experiences to draw on. Even though she was hunched over, it was obvious to anyone looking that she wasn’t the same as the Marchurians around them. The former leader of District February had an aura of weight about her, a presence that seemed to naturally pull people into her orbit.

As soon as they had made it through the entrance hall, the two separated. Grant slipped into a large group headed for a row of machines covered in spinning colors and chiming bells, blending in as he cast aside every trace of his former proud bearing.

<Don’t try your luck with those. They’re more like flashy traps meant to catch the unwary than actual ways to gamble.> Agreeing completely with Sarge's assessment, Grant shuffled off toward the back where there weren’t as many patrons. He passed by the section containing the tables meant for dice and completely ignored the side rooms, where the clacking of bones being slammed on wooden tables meant that people were playing dominoes or mahjong.

Grant’s interest was finally piqued by a small row of tables that were sitting nearly empty. As he approached, a woman shuffled furtively from a corner table, moving to a set of swinging doors in the rear. She stood to the side until a uniformed server walked out holding a tray of drinks. As the door swung back inwards, she darted through the opening. Instead of raising a commotion, the person working the table she had left silently watched her as she disappeared.

“What do you think, Sarge? Didn’t that seem a little odd to you?” The presence of guards around the room was heavy, but the tables in the rear had only the dealers as security. “You would think that a place like this would have better safeguards.”

<I don’t know, kid. Don’t forget, this place is the farthest from the center of the District, meaning it is going to have the lowest amount of Time changing hands. I’m not sure what that dealer might be up to in the first place.>

The fact that this was the poorest of the casinos simply didn’t add up in Grant’s head. The place seemed plenty nice to him, with the heavy use of what must be utility spells. Flashing lights, chiming sounds, gilt, glitter, shine; it was all meant to dazzle the senses and befuddle the mind, and it was all magic to him. The thick deep red carpet on the floor muted the sound of people’s footsteps, and lent the giant room a sense of closeness.

A cynical mind might have realized the color would make it easy to hide any spilt blood. <You know what? I think we should go check it out.>

Grant spotted Suki sitting at a crowded poker table, already building a bevy of admirers. “She should have enough proof of success to make it into the next area in no time, right? We need to catch up. Just because we might be able to follow along on her coat-tails, doesn’t mean I don’t want to try to make it on my own.”

The tables along the back were much smaller than the ones elsewhere, with room for only two or three people to play against the dealer. Grant made sure to head toward the man who had watched the woman sneak through the doorway. She hadn’t come back out, and Grant hadn’t heard any commotion from her being discovered.

“Welcome, good sir!” The dealer spread a deck of cards across the table with a flourish, the red and white cards shining in the glow of the fancy lighting overhead. “This section is for people who wish to play a game of great skill and amazing focus. It is called Pai Gow Poker.”

“Never heard of it. What kind of name is pie cow? I don’t see any cows, nor pie, for that matter.” Grant tapped his chin and glanced around to make sure. If there was pie involved, he wanted to make sure he knew exactly where it was.

“No, valued guest! Not ‘pie cow’, Pai Gow. It means ‘double-hand’.” The dealer quickly tossed down seven cards in front of each of them, splitting into one group of two and another group of five. “You have to beat the dealer with both hands to win, but he’s required to beat you with both hands for you to lose.”

“I’m not sure about this. I’d rather play a game with actual pie. Do you have any of those?” Grant watched as the dealer’s face turned a little red, either from anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure. He kept the smirk off his face; this sort of inane chatter really seemed to throw people off their game. It had even accidentally worked on Suki.

“No… sir, the casino doesn’t have any games that involve pie." Grant's face fell, as he was once again disappointed by the ridiculous way people named games. The dealer, recognizing that he was about to lose a potential customer, cleared his throat to get his attention. "But, to help you out, we can play a few rounds for practice before you have to start gambling your Time. How does that sound?"

"Hmmm…" Grant gave the dealer a once-over. The man reminded him of a person from District February. He was in very good shape, but the recent lack of food must have been hard on him. The uniform he was wearing appeared to be looser than it should be, and his cheeks looked a little sunken. The sandy blond hair and dark brown eyes still had plenty of luster to them, though, meaning the man wasn't to the point of starvation yet. "Okay, that sounds fair. Deal me in."

The dealer took his time, shuffling the cards skillfully while explaining the rules. To Grant, it was very much like the game Suki had called ‘seven card stud’—which had zero prize horses—but he had to divide the hand into one hand of two, and another of five. It wasn’t as complicated as he’d thought at first, and he quickly racked up several wins in a row.

“Well, sir, I think you are ready to start betting!” The dealer then laid out the next hand theatrically, and Grant set down a stack of Day coins. As if by magic, a waitress materialized next to Grant’s elbow as soon as the Time appeared.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” The scantily clad woman slid a drink with a tiny paper umbrella sticking out of the top toward him. “It’s complimentary.”

“Complimentary?” Grant grabbed it by reflex, and the woman walked away before he could hand it back.

<It means you don’t have to pay for it.> Sarge’s voice rumbled through his head, obviously upset at Grant. <Whatever you do, do not drink that. It will only end badly. A true warrior treats his body like a well-honed sword. Smashing a sword against the rocks isn’t exactly recommended.>

“Sir, your hand?” The dealer forced Grant to focus back on the table. He set the drink down and quickly separated out what he thought would be his best option. The dealer flipped his own hand over, and it ended in a draw. Grant had won the five-card hand, but the two-card hand lost. “The Time stays on the table, and we go another round. Would you like to add any more coins?”

“No, I’m going to… let it ride?” Grant waved his hands to show his ambivalence. “No sense in betting more until I figure this game out.”

<Considering the odds, you should be able to play this long enough for Suki to earn enough for your passage through to the next region.> Grant glanced over to where Suki was sitting. Somehow, the young Wielder had already increased the stack of Time in front of her to ridiculous heights. She hadn’t glanced in his direction the whole time - he confirmed with Sarge—but he was sure she knew exactly where he was waiting for her. <Just bide your time, and she’ll be by to collect you soon.>

“Would you like another drink?” Grant was dragged out of his internal conversation with Sarge by the waitress, who had once again appeared next to his elbow, as if by magic.

“No, thank you, though.” Grant held up his still-full glass, showing her he was fine. “Just got this one.”

He couldn’t be sure, but it appeared as though she seemed a little worried that he hadn’t finished the beverage. Sarge highlighted tiny facial movements as her eyes even flashed to the dealer, as if he was the reason she was worried. Before he could comment on it, the woman’s reaction was covered up by a bright smile and she silently nodded before walking away. <Yeah, that should set in stone the fact that you shouldn’t let a drop of that past your lips.>

“Sir, would you like to look at your hand?” While he was distracted, the dealer had once again laid out the cards on the table. Grant quickly separated his cards, knowing he would certainly lose the hand. There was a suspicious lack of high cards this time. Without thinking about it, he brought the glass sitting next to him up to his lips while waiting for the dealer to announce his loss.

<Stop! Don’t drink that!> Grant merely faked taking a sip before setting the drink down again. <Oh, lad, you had even me certain you were downing that. Nice. I suspect there's more than just cheap alcohol in that glass, and I can even take an educated guess as to what happens to the people who play cards at these tables.>

“Dealer wins. Another hand, good sir?” The man was smiling now that he thought Grant had taken a drink, and it was pretty clear to Grant that this table was bad news. “I’m sure your luck is about to change.”

“You know, I think it is too.” Grant pretended to hesitate for a long moment, then dropped a heavy silver Month coin on the table, “Let’s see how lucky I really am, shall we?”

“Indeed, good sir.” The dealer’s eyes lingered on Grant’s coin purse, obviously trying to estimate how much he had remaining. Considering Suki had given him almost half of the Time she had with her, even the estimate was enough to nearly make the man drool. He snapped himself out of it and quickly shuffled and dealt the cards.

<Finally, some good cards!> Grant couldn’t help but agree with Sarge. The two hands he could make were almost unbeatable. A high pair and a straight flush, almost as good as he could get. <You should have bet more.>

“Congratulations on the win, Valued Guest!” The dealer scooted another Month across to Grant, doubling the Time he had on the table. “Would you like to bet again?”

“Sure!” Grant just pushed the two Month coins back into the center. “It worked so well last time, why don’t we try it again?”

<Are you sure about that?> The sword spirit was quiet for a second, and Grant felt a tingle in the back of his eyes, a feeling that he had learned to associate with Sarge reviewing his recent thoughts… then the sword started lightly vibrating as he began chuckling. <Oh, that is a good plan. I like it!>

The next several hands flew by, with Grant pretending to take sips from the drink. As the pile of Time in the center of the table grew, the grin of the dealer grew with it. The coin stacks weren’t anything like the amounts Suki had built up, but Grant was pretty sure he could now qualify to pass into the next part of District March. The win streak he was on defied any form of belief, which clearly meant the dealer had to be cheating.

“Well, Mr. High Roller, congratulations!” The dealer gave a subtle nod to someone standing just out of sight behind Grant. “It looks like you have earned enough to journey into the Labyrinth! Just walk through those doors, and someone will be by to help you shortly.”

Grant looked toward the doors the dealer had indicated, which were definitely not the doors that other high rollers had gone through. It was, however, the same exit which the other lady had disappeared through, where casino employees had been passing in and out with drinks and plates throughout the evening. Wanting to see things through, Grant stood, gathered his winnings, and headed toward the indicated doorway.

<Looks like you have made enough for them to think it’s time to rob you.>

Grant pretended to feel woozy, so he slowed his steps. No one commented, so he assumed this was standard. “Why are they robbing people? Don’t they already have access to all the Time they could want working here?”

<The Time here belongs to the casino, not the employees. They have probably been running this scam for a long time. The only question is, how many of them are involved?> Grant stole quick glances around at Sarge’s words, noting several eyes following his progress. He purposely stumbled, trying his best to act like the drugged booze he’d pretended to drink was affecting him. <You’re a terrible actor. Luckily, I don’t think it is going to matter.>

“Should I tell Suki what’s going on?” Grant looked back to where she was still seated, chatting away with the other players. “She might wonder what I’m doing.”

Before he could start to wobble over to her, two large men stepped up behind her. Apparently, Suki had also earned enough to go through to the next area. Since she had drawn so much attention, they led her to the doors where people were supposed to cross over. Her eyes flicked past Grant, and she gave him a crisp nod. He had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t look like they were going to let Suki come over and collect Grant before leaving.

He had to find his own way.

Walking through the door he had been sent to, Grant entered a large kitchen area. The room wasn’t as impressive as the massive cooking stations found in District January, but it was close. On the opposite side, Grant could see another set of doors that resembled the entrance to the casino they had used when entering the barrier. That must be the way out.

“Congratulations on making it this far.” The speaker turned out to be a portly man wearing chef whites and gripping a very impressive cleaver. He was standing on the other side of the long preparation table that ran the full length of the room. Grant watched as he expertly chopped up a slab of meat, his thickly muscled arms straining against the sleeves of his uniform. He might have looked portly, but the weight hid an obviously well-muscled frame. “Now, all you have to do is pay the toll, and you can walk through the door to the Labyrinth.”

<Yep, here comes the shake-down.> Sarge was obviously excited, pleased that Grant was going to fight. <Defeat this fool and catch up to Suki. There's no telling how long it’ll take for you to get to the other side.>

“How much is the toll?” Grant silently agreed with the sword spirit, and his hand drifted casually to the hilt of his uchigatana. Other people were milling around the room, but none of them seemed to be paying the cook or Grant any attention.

“All of your Time. A small price to pay, for safe admittance to the Labyrinth.” The cook’s eyes flicked over to a pair of waiters standing off to the side. They were both holding serving trays, but the discs could easily double as shields if they wanted to fight. The three men would probably be enough to intimidate a drugged-up and scared person who had been expecting a simple walk to the next area, but they certainly weren’t enough to stop Grant. “Just drop your coin purse on the counter, and be on your way.”

“Nah.” Grant turned to walk toward the door on the other side of the room, deciding to ignore the three. “I’ll keep my Time. I’m going to need it if I want to make it through to the center ring.”

“Your mistake.” The cook’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Boys, handle this guy and dump the body outside. I’m sure there are some hungry rats roaming around.”

Expecting this outcome, Grant swayed past the wildly swinging fist of the first waiter to charge him. The system didn’t even activate, which indicated that these two didn’t pose the slightest threat to him at all.

<Fight, seriously! That’s the voice of complacency. Remember that a single grain of rice can cause an avalanche, even if the stupid system doesn’t recognize it.>

Grant unsheathed his sword, using the motion to drive the hilt of his sword into the chin of the second waiter. The man’s jaw slammed closed in a spray of blood and teeth, causing the first attacker to stumble back in fear. “I hope you remember, you asked for it.”

“He’s supposed to be drugged!” The cook was also wide-eyed, and he was brandishing his giant cleaver like it was a sword. “What’s going on?”

“Do you actually get people to fall for your little operation?” Another quick swing of Grant’s blade, and the flat smacked against the temple of the cowering waiter who remained on his feet. “If so, I recommend you stop robbing people. Things are going to be changing in this District soon, and people like you aren’t going to be able to get away with this kind of thing anymore.”

Instead of answering, the cook slammed his cleaver down on a large bag of flour. The ensuing explosion of white dust blinded Grant, and he was soon choking on the powdered grain.

<Behind you!> Grant reacted instantly, diving forward under the table. The sound of a large cleaver smashing into the metal table made his ears ring, and the system finally acknowledged that he was in a fight.

Combat initiated—Duel

Action: Defend: Without Weapon.

Result: Enemy attack dodged. Stunned from auditory attack for 2 seconds.

Actions: Please select one option from the following list.

Attack: Lethal, Non-lethal, Spell.

Defend: With Weapon, Without Weapon.

Run: Attempt Escape.

Selecting ‘Attack: Spell,’ caused a storm of lightning to erupt from his blade. Grant had only selected it because he wasn’t sure where the insane cook was hiding, but the memory of an incident involving a flour mill and a torch suddenly flashed through his mind. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop the reaction.

The flour dust floating in the air was ignited by the lightning, causing an explosion that blew him straight into unconsciousness.