Chapter 59
Chapter 59
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magic Noble House
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Lucas, wait a sec…!”
Leo grabbed my arm.
“What are you doing! You’re really going?”
“Yeah.”
“I get that you’re pissed, but hold it in a little. There’s no upside to starting trouble with the third-years.”
“What’s there to hold in! Go beat their asses, Luca!”
Elias glared with bulging eyes toward the other table.
Trouble? More like…
I could humor a provocation like that once or twice for fun.
“I’m just going to play. Don’t worry.”
Leo seemed to think I’d go berserk like Elias, but I wasn’t actually mad.
Sure, being openly dismissed rubbed me the wrong way, but I was more curious about what these guys who looked down on people could actually do.
‘If anything, the real issue isn’t the third-years—it’s my brother.’
But he wouldn’t come charging over just because I sat at someone else’s table. And considering I planned to reshape Luca’s image in a different direction going forward, stepping up like this wasn’t a big deal.
‘Luca knew the basics of poker rules anyway.’
Since my brother was the opponent, there was no way he didn’t know that.
‘Still, I should check this properly before diving in.’
I opened the possibility alteration window. If it dropped even 0.1%p here, I’d stay put.
Dawn777
― Time remaining until Final Ending ‘Chapter X. Death’: 694 days, 1 hour, 43 minutes, 47 seconds
― Possibility of Change: 18.4%
‘Hm.’
No change.
It went up 1%p after I resolved to improve Luca’s reputation score, but nothing since then—up or down.
The festival and poker game didn’t seem like events that would hugely impact the future.
‘Or maybe I lose….’
A chuckle escaped me.
Either I lose, or I win but word doesn’t get back to my brother, or it does but it’s not a big deal.
One of the three.
And even then, I wasn’t worried about losing.
I headed straight for their table.
“Let’s do it.”
“Ooh~”
“He actually came!”
A few third-years clapped as they ogled me.
Sure enough, their scanning gazes, cocky tones, and attitudes weren’t exactly polite. What courtesy could I expect after they dragged me here like some pawn to put their names on the board?
“Let’s move to a different spot first.”
“Huh, the seats?”
“Because of the crowd? Just play here~”
“Hey, he came, so let’s do whatever he says.”
One student stood up with a grin.
From the badge on his uniform, he was the only magic department student among the three. The other two were administration department guys.
“Second floor. It’s crowded there too, but everyone’s too busy with their own games to pay attention to other tables.”
I nodded to Elias and Leo, then headed upstairs. I heard Elias getting warp coordinates from a staff member.
“That spot work?”
One third-year pointed to a table far from the center. It was in a dimly lit corner with only half the lights on.
I nodded and sat down. Once everyone was seated, the student acting as dealer came over and took his place at the table.
Elias had shown up out of nowhere at the table next to ours, propping his chin and staring holes into us while pretending to play.
‘I told you it’s just for fun….’
Looks like the competitive streak rubbed off on Elias.
I let out a hollow laugh.
Without any prompting, everyone pushed a chip from their stack to the center.
‘Forty chips each.’
What a ridiculous number.
From what I saw on the way in, to qualify for the leaderboard, you needed at least four players starting with forty chips each, and the game continued or ended only after one player collected 120 chips.
‘And there’s even a betting limit.’
First bet of the round maxed at two chips, raise cap at ten chips. All-ins were allowed, though.
Basically, to keep the game from dragging and getting boring, they were looking for someone to fill out the numbers and lose easily.
‘Not sure it’ll end that simply.’
At least my goal was crystal clear now.
Wear them down until they drop.
“Dealing the cards.”
The dealer student fumbled awkwardly as he tossed the cards.
Two landed face down, the last one face up.
My up card: diamond 7.
Across from me, a third-year with a 2 up card was smirking.
“Lowest up card bets first? My bet~”
“Quit wasting time talking. Just play!”
“Nah, we got a guest here.”
‘…Hmm.’
They think I don’t even know the rules.
First round, betting starts with the lowest exposed card.
The games I played in the real world started with the highest, but this was different.
If I’d been pulled from another booth, fine, but they thought I didn’t know the rules even after playing poker in the same venue? Surprising.
I ignored them and checked my hole cards.
Mine: K, 2, 7.
Ranked A high down to 2 low.
Seven cards total: three hole, four up. Best five make your hand.
For a good hand, you need matching ranks—like hearts 5 and diamonds 5, or spades A and diamonds A—or sequential like 8, 9, 10, J, Q.
Or all same suit, like five hearts.
That’s the gist, anyway.
Mine didn’t form anything yet.
Still, no folding. Every round’s an opportunity.
My turn came, and I spoke.
“Call.”
I matched the pot.
Round ended, another up card flew in.
Spade 7. Now I had a pair of 7s.
‘One pair secured.’
Next round, I got an A.
Nothing special with that. Fine by me.
Then the magic department guy’s turn.
“Raise.”
His ups: hearts 7, hearts 8, spades 8. He tossed in three more chips.
With him holding the hearts 7, my max with 7s was trips now. Only four of each rank in a suit.
‘The others….’
“Ugh, total trash hand. Fold~”
One guy folded and slumped back. Another had folded in round two, so just me and him left.
‘No need to watch anymore.’
He raised seeing my exposed pair because his was better. Pair of 8s beat pair of 7s.
Didn’t factor in my hole cards, huh.
‘Considering it’s just for fun, that’s pretty thoughtful.’
If he did, he might have a hole card guaranteeing victory or the club 7 I’d need for trips.
Or he figured he’d draw better.
Pairs were common in seven-card stud anyway, so worth raising if hands were decent.
Mine wasn’t great, but…
Play the long game. Not a normal match.
My turn again.
“Raise.”
* * *
‘Whoa.’
One third-year stared hard at Lucas.
‘What’s his deal? Kinda wanna say….’
A few more hands to know for sure, but keep raising in this spot?
My friend and I had already folded out.
Opponent had pair of 8s. Beats pair of 7s easy.
We were already at the final turn, and in round three, a club 7 hit my hand? No trips for the Ascanien kid. Just a weak pair, yet he’d been calling and raising the whole way.
‘That confidence means another pairing card in hole.’
Something’s definitely there.
My friend sensed it too—just glancing, not shoving chips in.
‘Wait, why are we taking this so seriously?’
We dragged this guy here for a casual beatdown, so why are we the ones scouting him?
Maybe because the Ascanien punk looked so dead serious. Created this vibe you couldn’t ignore.
As we probed his intentions, he spoke.
“Fold.”
“…?!”
Folding now?
Not impossible, but after all that tension? Anticlimactic ending.
No way… he bluffed to the river with junk just to see the last card? And raising instead of calling?
My friend asked what we were all thinking.
“…What’d you draw?”
The Ascanien silently revealed his hole cards.
My friend squinted, reading them.
“K, 2, 7, 5, 7, A, 3… All different suits too.”
“…….”
Total garbage?
Drew to the end and bailed because it sucked?
“Aww, our newbie got wrecked~”
Jeering from the next table. The Ascanien gave an awkward, faint smile.
‘…Huh….’
Thought we had a real one here?
‘Let’s recap.’
He lost ten chips total.
Two of us bailed mid-hand, leaving just my friend and him.
Friend raised pot bit by bit, he matched…
Then folded in the final round.
‘Can’t even read his hand, just hoping.’
My friends exchanged looks while redealing, stifling grins.
It didn’t last long, but smirks flashed across everyone’s faces.
* * *
“Aw, I’m thirty away from winning?”
The third-year magic student chuckled, rubbing his hands.
Momentum had swung to another player once, now back to him.
My stack hovered at twenty-seven after wins and losses.
I’d set up situations to ride good runs but avoided scraping bottom for safety.
Not bad compared to the admin guys, but Elias’s casual interjections had softened their guard too. Despite my middling hits, the initial vibe lingered unchanged.
“Dealing cards.”
Hole: hearts Q, hearts 2.
Up: clubs J.
‘Depends on what comes next.’
Good thing the magic guy monopolized ninety chips—the admin kids checked without betting, passing turn. He grinned under their glares and checked too. Confident with his stack.
Round over, new card arrived.
‘Mm.’
Diamond Q.
Now: Q, 2, J, Q. Pair of queens.
Strong pair, just shy of aces or kings.
Then the magic guy sighed at his hand.
“Ah….”
His ups: diamond J, hearts 8.
Wait, if he folds, we drag this out. Ninety-chip pot vanishes quick.
Over thirty rounds in, the admin guys were zoning out, murmuring.
“Wanna bail?”
“Huh? I didn’t say anything?! Haha, fine, let’s wrap quick. Uh, how much in this round?”
“Three.”
“Hm, raise.”
He shoved ten chips.
‘Well, well.’
I held back a smile, keeping stone-faced.
Recap time.
Chips: magic 90, admins 30 and 13.
Me: 27.
Call leaves me with 14.
‘Fold here, aim for next?’
I eyed their ups, then decided.
Nah. End it.
* * *
‘Hmm.’
I propped my chin, scanning the table.
Friends were wiped, Lucas Ascanien subtly too—though less obvious.
‘Time to wrap.’
Over forty minutes here. Think we milked it.
This hand was round four.
My two friends folded to my raises. They looked salty, but if I sweep to win, they escape quick—good enough.
‘This guy won’t budge, though.’
I called out to the Ascanien.
“You’re hanging in there long~”
“Am I?”
Hmm, no clue what he’s doing, that’s clear.
Pushing that junk early without folding? Raising over calling? Hilarious.
Thought he was stubborn, but after, he folded four straight.
Then a rare raise from him—after constant folds, it screams strong hand.
‘But….’
Checked post-fold: high pair.
Even with my exposed two-pair showing, he pushed. Wild.
Bluff? Face said no.
‘Sure, he’s thinking, but nothing impressive….’
Unpredictable moves, but raw from inexperience, not calculation. Holding twenty-seven chips? Luck.
Dealer tossed cards.
I laid mine out.
Hole: J, K.
Ups: J, 8, J, 3.
Pair of Js exposed already.
His: J, Q, 2, 4.
Ups look hopeless. Spare him once.
I smiled lightly, checked.
He checked too—probably trash.
‘Pot so far: thirty-one chips.’
Final round, max bet two; if he calls, thirty-five total.
‘Tricky.’
Win nets me 110.
Ten short of endgame.
‘Shouldn’t have checked round four.’
Even without, pot maxes thirty-nine. Can’t end here either way.
Getting tired, wanna close on this decent-card hand. Any way?
‘…Wait, yes.’
Way to scoop his stack too.
He has twelve left.
That puts me at 122. Victory.
Worth a shot.
* * *
After that, I drew diamond 2 and spade 4.
Last round hole card: I tilted my head.
Another Q.
Pair of queens in hole already.
The remaining magic third-year was solid.
Round one: sighed like trash hand, then raised ten. Don’t buy the act straight.
Sure, with his lead, maybe casual fun-raise. But safer assuming he has something.
Indeed, his ups had pair Js. Still below Qs. And I didn’t even have just a pair.
So…
‘Just wait for him to come.’
Checked round four; his raise due.
The magic third-year stroked his chin long, then pushed chips.
“All-in.”