Slot Machines and Pachinko (1)
On the outskirts of Vladivostok stood a workshop bearing the faded sign of the Valeriano Trading Company. Roulette wheels, craps tables, dartboards—every piece of equipment that filled the casino had been born here. The process, however, was not always pleasant.
"What in the world is this supposed to be?"
Young craftsman Leo pointed at the scraps of paper spread across the workbench, his voice thick with irritation. On them were two crude sketches drawn by Mikhail. Workshop master Gregor adjusted his magnifying glasses and peered at the drawings. A veteran who had worked with wood and metal for decades, he still found these vague requests a headache every time.
"Let's see… 'Slot machine'…"
Gregor stroked his beard and muttered. Beside the sketch, tiny handwriting explained the functions: Insert casino chips to enable the lever. Pulling the lever spins three reels marked with various symbols. Matching three symbols horizontally wins. Reels must stop via buttons.
"Hah… This is going to be a nightmare."
Another craftsman, Dmitri, who had been watching, let out a dry laugh.
"Simpler than a clock, sure, but you've got to admire the audacity of explaining it with one drawing and a few lines."
The pay was always more than generous. But the demands were brutal. Deadlines were tight, and the instructions were as vague as this. Even if they wanted to complain, the client was the head of the Valeriano Trading Company, favored by the Grand Duke himself. Rumors among commoners even claimed she was the Grand Duke's mistress. No one dared talk back to people like that.
"At least this one looks better. 'Pachinko.'"
Gregor pointed to the other sketch. It seemed far simpler, and the instructions were more detailed: hammer nails into a board as specified, attach a few pinwheel-like obstacles, and build a device to launch the balls.
"We can manage the launcher by adapting bow or crossbow mechanisms," Dmitri said, arms crossed.
"The problem is that 'slot machine' thing. We'll need precisely meshed gears and springs, and this sorry excuse for a drawing won't cut it."
"Let's start with the easier one—pachinko," Gregor decided. "This is just a prototype anyway. We'll have to remake it until the client is satisfied. Focus on using the cheapest materials to get the basic function working."
Leo let out a long sigh.
"Master, even when we nail the function, they reject it over the appearance. Remember the roulette wheel? We repainted it five times because the color wasn't right. First it was just 'red,' then 'passionate red.' They kept demanding colors no one had ever heard of and sent us running to painters. Who even submits requests like this…"
The other craftsmen nodded in grim agreement. It had been a truly awful experience.
"Still, the roulette was easy to build. This…"
Dmitri flicked the slot machine sketch with his finger.
"Ugh… Merchants think throwing money around solves everything."
"And it does," Gregor replied flatly, already wearing an expression of resigned enlightenment. "That money is what got your daughter married off, isn't it? Quit complaining and pick up a pencil. Let's draw up the pachinko design first."
Some time later.
The bell signaling the end of the workday had rung long ago, yet the workshop showed no signs of cooling down. If anything, a fiercer heat than the day's labor now filled the cramped space. Its source was, of course, the slot machine and pachinko.
"Ah, damn it!"
"You should've hit the middle button there! Left! Left!"
The cheerful clink of beer mugs brought in from the tavern rang out, followed by groans of disappointment whenever someone narrowly missed a pachinko shot. The craftsmen gathered around the machines with their beers, loudly offering advice—advice that was, without exception, completely useless. Both the speakers and the listeners knew it meant nothing. But who cared? The new toys were fun enough on their own. They were enjoying the very machines they had built, using "testing" as an excuse.
"Move, move! Out of the way!"
Johan, the most excitable of the employees, pushed through the crowd toward the slot machine.
"This thing… you gotta commune with the machine!"
Snickers erupted around him.
"Idiot," muttered Michael, Johan's closest friend, wiping beer foam from his lip.
Johan paid no attention. He threw his arms around the slot machine like a madman and pressed his ear to the cold metal surface. He even stuck out his tongue and began licking it enthusiastically.
"Heh heh… I love you, baby…"
The workshop dissolved into laughter. After his passionate communion with the machine, Johan finally sat down and slid a chip into the slot. With a metallic clack, he pulled the lever with solemn determination. The three reels began spinning furiously. Johan closed his eyes, concentrating, then started mashing the buttons at random.
Ding— ding— ding!
The reels stopped. [Cherry] — [Cherry] — [Cherry]. The smallest payout. Yet Johan's face lit up with the joy of a man who had won the world.
"See that, you bastard!"
He leapt up and jabbed a finger at Michael.
"Love! You need love, you moron!"
"Woooo!"
"Johan did it!"
The craftsmen whistled and clapped, teasing Michael. Michael's face turned bright red.
"Love? Screw you!"
Michael slammed his mug down and shoved Johan aside, taking his place at the machine.
***
A few days later, two machines hauled in by Valeriano Trading Company employees found their place in Mikhail's office. They were the prototypes of the slot machine and pachinko, built from his crude sketches.
"Hmm…"
Mikhail stood with arms crossed, examining the finished products. They had turned out pretty decent. Of course, being prototypes, the exteriors were still rough. Truthfully, even before possessing this body, Mikhail had never been particularly fond of slot machines or pachinko. He had bought small novelty versions for decoration, but had quickly grown bored and left them untouched.
"Are these the new machines Your Highness plans to introduce to the casino?"
Laura, standing beside him, asked with curiosity. Josepina remained silent, but her blue eyes scanned every detail. Mikhail decided to demonstrate the machines himself.
"Yeah. This is the slot machine, and that's pachinko."
He stepped up to the slot machine first. A slot for casino chips was cut into its side. Mikhail pushed several chips in. A dull sound of gears engaging came from inside.
"You put in the chips, then pull this lever…"
Mikhail yanked the heavy metal handle. With a clack, the three small windows on the front revealed cylindrical reels spinning noisily. Symbols—cherries, lemons, bells, the number 7—blurred past.
"And you stop each reel by pressing these buttons."
He stared at the spinning reels for a moment, then pressed the buttons one by one with deliberate care. Click. Click. Click. The first reel stopped on a cherry, the second on a bell, the third on a lemon. Nothing happened.
"Damn it."
Mikhail muttered a quiet curse. He inserted more chips and pulled the lever again. He tried several more times, but the result was the same. No wins. Still, the weighty mechanical feel wasn't bad.
Maybe because it's analog?
The tactile feedback from pulling the lever and pressing the buttons was excellent. But that was as far as his interest went. He clicked his tongue and moved on to the pachinko machine, already bored.
"This one works by shooting steel balls into holes."
The pachinko machine was a large vertical board. Beyond the glass, a complex maze of densely packed nails was visible.
"You adjust how hard you pull this handle to launch the steel ball. If you flick it with the right force and get it into one of those holes…"
Mikhail demonstrated. When he pulled and released the handle, a small steel ball shot upward with a thunk. It ricocheted wildly off the nails before dropping helplessly to the bottom. He tried a few more times, but it didn't go well. Still, every time the ball fell, his eyes followed it so intently that stray thoughts had no chance to form. That alone was satisfying enough. It lacked the flashy effects of real pachinko, but it was good enough.
"Well, you get the idea? Give it a try."
Mikhail stepped back with a shake of his head. He pointed Laura toward the slot machine and Josepina toward the pachinko. The two women glanced at each other, then silently took their positions.
Josepina began meticulously examining the pachinko machine from every angle. She repeatedly pulled the handle with tiny adjustments, analyzing the relationship between launch angle and force. Laura, on the other hand, simply inserted chips and pulled the lever just as Mikhail had. The reels spun furiously. But she didn't press the buttons right away. She simply stared at the spinning reels in silence.
For a while, the only sounds in the office were the mechanical whir of spinning reels and the sharp clatter of steel balls striking nails.
Then—
"Ah."
A soft exclamation escaped Laura's lips as she watched the reels. It sounded like realization. She stopped merely observing. Her fingers moved. The moment her eyes flashed while tracking the spinning reels, her hand shot forward and pressed the buttons with perfect timing.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The reels stopped in sequence. [7] [7] [7]
With a loud chime, several chips poured from the payout slot. Chips that had only been inserted for testing.
"Huh?"
Mikhail's mouth fell open. Even Josepina, who had been focused on pachinko, stopped and turned to stare at Laura in surprise. Laura paid no attention. She collected the chips, reinserted them, and pulled the lever again. Once more, she stared at the spinning reels.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
[7] [7] [7]
Another jackpot. And again. And again.
"Impressive," Josepina murmured with genuine admiration.
How is that even possible?
Mikhail could only gape in disbelief.
"Your Highness."
Laura finally released the machine and turned to face him.
"This machine has a problem."
She began explaining calmly.
"If you focus, you can see everything. The exact sequence of symbols on each reel, their rotation speed. Memorize that, and after that it's just a matter of reflexes."
She pointed to her twitching ears.
"Of course… for beastkin like me, or knights with proper training. In other words, anyone with enough dynamic vision to actually see the spinning symbols can do this."
This was a romance fantasy world. A world where magic existed, where multiple non-human races coexisted, where superhumans who could single-handedly defeat armies or change the weather walked the earth. So of course, with a system that allowed active stopping…
…Was copying a machine from home the mistake?
Implementing true randomness with a physical machine instead of digital—had that even been possible? Since he hadn't known, he'd gone with manual stopping and ordered it based on the slot machine he remembered… That had clearly been the wrong call.
"We're screwed…"
A quiet groan escaped Mikhail as he realized his blunder.