Arsène Lupin's Poker Gambit
A weird woman struck up a conversation during the poker game. From the looks of it, she wanted to borrow money—obvious enough in a casino. I politely turned her down, and suddenly she started raging at herself.
"Fine! Whatever! If I ever set foot in a casino again, I swear I'm not human!"
Tsk tsk. I gave her a pitying look.
'She seems to have lost her mind.'
[Gambling has a way of driving people insane, after all.]
Sympathy welled up at her pitiful state, so I tried talking to her.
"Looks like you lost everything."
I hadn't meant much by it, but she took it as a huge insult.
"What am I supposed to do about it? You gonna find my lost money for me? You think that's easy!?"
Even with her rudeness, it didn't bother me. If anything, the casino's vibe added a fun spice to the moment.
I knew gambling was tough. Every game here charged the house a fee, so the structure was rigged for you to lose. Casinos just packaged get-rich-quick dreams in shiny wrapping—they were businesses meant to make money, not charities.
That said, this only applied if you relied purely on luck. Pros like card sharps raked in huge profits because they knew how to beat the games.
So, what about me? Phantom thieves and gamblers had sneaky overlaps—handling cards like pros, favored by Lady Luck, that sort of thing. Curiosity got the better of me.
"Making money at gambling... that can't be so hard, right?"
Her face twisted at my words. No surprise—it must've sounded like arrogant nonsense to her.
"...Ha! That's the funniest joke I've heard lately. If you're so confident, why don't you give it a shot!"
She snapped out of it late and taunted me with a snort. Might not be a bad idea, actually. Play a few hands, wander around without raising suspicion. And above all...
"Since I'm at a casino for once, might as well have some fun."
Admit it—you're curious too. Does my luck work here?
[Hehe. That sounds entertaining.]
'What a strange guy...'
The woman muttered to herself, glancing sideways. The dignified gentleman with the striking mustache kept pace with her guidance all the way to the table. From his chatter, he didn't seem like a casino regular. As a casino hustler herself, the fact that she'd never seen his face before proved it best.
Yet he brimmed with confidence. Maybe beginner's bravado, but it felt too grounded for that. Bottom line: she'd know once the results were in. Like cards, you had to see the hand to judge the player.
"Huh? You still haven't gone home?"
The table she brought the gentleman to was the very one where she'd lost everything moments ago. The man who'd mocked her plenty nodded toward the gentleman standing behind her.
"Who's that? You actually snag a real mark?"
"Nah. Not a mark—just brought a self-proclaimed gambler."
"What? Haha, jokes these days are something else."
The folks at the table burst into raucous laughter. They knew better than anyone how big a deal "gambler" meant in a casino, so a total stranger calling himself one was hilarious.
Even amid the mockery, the gentleman stayed unflappable. He even smiled leisurely.
"If it's no bother, mind letting me join a hand?"
"Sure thing. You look like a rich big shot— we're happy to have you."
"Much obliged."
As everyone jeered the man, the woman beside him sensed he was no ordinary fellow from his composed demeanor.
A sleazy guy across the table drawled lazily.
"Hey, before we start, how about introductions? That way, no hard feelings when someone loses cash."
He tossed out some forgettable generic name. The gentleman tipped his hat slightly in response.
"Call me Arsène Lupin."
An unusual name. The woman absently thought she'd never forget it.
"Let's get started, then."
With the prelude over, the real game began. Under the dealer's lead, the seven at the table held their breath, focusing on poker.
Two hole cards each. They checked them carefully amid rising tensions, but the man who'd named himself Lupin kept a blank face even after peeking.
'He's better at managing his tells than I thought.'
Rookies' biggest mistake was showing emotion—subtle slips in expression or behavior giving away good or bad hands.
The intense staring contest began with hole cards revealed. Decisions went left to right: call if decent, fold if trash, raise if strong. Of course, bluffs mixed in—turning crap into raises to bloat the pot.
"Call."
"Fold."
"Call for now."
Cautious plays traded, until the man who'd screwed her over smirked and shifted the mood.
"Why so timid? Double the raise."
The pot jumped instantly. Not burdensome yet, but at this rate, it'd snowball exponentially.
Lupin's turn next.
"Call."
A light reply, no hesitation. All seven decided, then three community cards hit the table.
Players reacted variably comparing to their holes—who knew what was real or bluff? Lupin stayed stone-faced amid it all.
'Damn, can't read if his hand's good or bad.'
Decision round two. And again, chaos at the man's turn.
"Come on, let's go! Double raise."
He kept doubling the pot. At that level, it screamed legit strong hand, not bluff. Most players folded early, playing safe.
"Call."
But Lupin? Same stoic acceptance.
Now only three left in the hand. The sidelined woman itched uncomfortably.
'Just fold and bail already...! That guy's hand looks insane!'
Fourth community card down. The man needled Lupin.
"Buddy, got a pretty hand there?"
"Who knows."
"Or do you not even know the rules?"
Lupin ignored the second jab entirely. Enraged, the man twitched his brow but forced nonchalance with bravado.
"Haha! Scared? Fold nicely then. This pot's mine anyway."
"Hurry and decide."
"...Triple raise."
"Call."
River card: all five community cards exposed. The last holdout folded late, leaving just two.
"Raise."
The man pushed chips forward. His voice lost some swagger, but raising still meant a powerhouse hand.
Lupin's reply finally shifted.
"Raise."
No call—he raised too. No resolution till someone called or folded... or they went all-in. Pot was massive now—losing would hurt bad. The woman was going nuts.
What if I roped him in and ruined his life?
The man sweated too.
What the hell hand does he have...!?
His was strong—victory certain. Yet the opponent pressed casually. Underestimating as a newbie? That poker face nagged. Logically: rich guy, casino noob, treating this as pocket change. Just go all the way—odds said no better hand possible.
He'd win pushing to the end.
"Full house! I win!!"
Murmurs rose. Even onlookers gawked. Natural—a 0.1% miracle hand. Worth going all-in; unbeatable in a lifetime.
Lupin, unmoved till now, tossed his two cards.
"Four of a kind."
The entire casino fell silent.