The Masquerade Ball (2)
Night hung thick and black, a quiet, almost cozy dark — until a building shattered it, flaunting its existence in flashes of brilliant blue light.
The place was enormous, and it used every inch of that size to hurl light in every direction. That towering monument of excess was only the visible tip of the Masquerade Ball that the Chairman and I were attending tonight.
A jet-black limousine slid to a stop on the road in front of the casino, its body gleaming with the slick, gaudy light pouring off the building.
"Holy hell."
The words slipped out of me before I could stop them, half wonder and half disbelief. I'd heard it a thousand times — that the rich lived in a different world — but seeing it with my own two eyes drove the point home with brutal precision.
A line of polished foreign cars stretched along the casino entrance. Staff in formalwear stepped forward as if it were the most natural thing in the world, opening doors and escorting guests inside. For someone like me, it was a genuine culture shock.
The car ahead of us pulled away. Our turn. Staff approached from both sides, opened the doors, and welcomed us in.
"Welcome to the Masquerade Ball."
The staff wore masks over their suits. And it wasn't just them — everyone, ourselves included, was dressed to the nines and masked.
This is actually kind of exciting.
The whole place felt sealed off from the rest of the world, and the corner of my mouth tugged upward of its own accord.
The Chairman took a staff member's hand and stepped down with effortless grace, then glided toward me. I drew one foot back in what I hoped was a dashing motion and offered her my hand.
"Shall we, my lady?"
It was a little cringeworthy, sure — but here, it didn't matter. In a place this glittering, with everyone in luxury clothes and masks, even a move like that looked perfectly natural. The whole venue existed on a different planet from common sense.
The Chairman let out a soft laugh at the sight of me, then laid her hand lightly over mine with an elegant little flourish.
"Yes, my love."
For the record, neither of us looked quite like ourselves. Before coming to the ball, we'd used the Chairman's Yongan to change our eye and hair colors, making our real faces that much harder to pin down.
The Chairman had black hair and crimson eyes. I had blond hair and blue ones.
The result on me was an East Asian face with Western coloring pasted over it, and it looked a little off. The Chairman, on the other hand, suffered no such problem. That Western-beauty figure — a chest ready to burst the seams and a line that ran from her hips down her legs like a provocation — paired with black hair and blood-red eyes, gave her the wicked allure of a nine-tailed fox. The fox mask didn't help. Every time I caught a glimpse of those scarlet eyes through it, the impression only got stronger.
She must have felt my stare, because she gave me a slow, bewitching smile.
Yeah. I can't let this one go.
Next time we were alone, I was absolutely going to ask her to wear this look again.
I took her hand and we approached the entrance. Staff lined up on either side bowed to us with formal courtesy.
"Welcome to Fantasia, a world of fantasy. Forgive us, honored guests — may we verify your tickets?"
The Chairman and I drew the tickets from our jackets and handed them over. The staff member's eyes flickered at the sight of those luxurious things — black card stock embroidered with gold ribbon. "Pardon me," he murmured, and fastened a black bracelet around each of our wrists.
"In two hours, take the elevator and you will be admitted to that place. Until then, we hope you will lose yourselves in Fantasia's luxury and savor every indulgence."
With not a hair of mistiming between them, the staff on both sides pulled open the doors of Casino Fantasia, and the world inside came out to meet us.
"Whoa."
From the moment I'd stepped out of the car, I'd sworn I wouldn't gawk like some country bumpkin. One look at the interior and I understood that for someone with zero immunity to places like this, holding back a gasp was a physical impossibility.
The opening blow was the chandeliers dripping from the ceiling. Gold branches hung in lavish cascades, pouring out a light so intoxicating it painted everything below in gold.
Then came the rest: dozens of slot machines, roulette wheels, tables where card games were already in full swing. All of it was new to me. Every last bit.
"Heh. Shall we enjoy ourselves for the two hours we have left?"
I'd lifted my hand to escort her, then hesitated — and the Chairman simply stepped out in front of me, took my hand instead, and led the way.
"Uh… yeah. Yeah."
That was the Chairman for you. Completely unfazed by an atmosphere like this, and steady enough to pull me along. It was deeply reassuring. If I'd come here alone with Alice and Cheonghwa, those two would've been stammering just as badly as I was. Not that watching them flounder wouldn't have been pretty entertaining in its own right.
"Let's start with the simplest game, shall we?"
She led me to the slot machines. The cabinets looked a good deal fancier than the ones I knew, but the guts were familiar: a screen of spinning fruit and lucky sevens, a betting panel underneath, and a lever. Gambling so simple anyone could pick it up and play.
"Okay. Let's give it a shot."
I rubbed my hands together and stepped up to a machine — then a critical fact surfaced in my brain.
"Ah."
Cards. Cash. I had nothing on me that remotely qualified as money.
Uh. Now what? Can I even use PeaPay here?
The Chairman caught the look on my face and laughed under her breath.
"Don't worry. The bracelet already has the funds loaded. Just hold it up to the machine and you can place a bet, my love."
Oh. Fancy.
"So, uh… how much is in there?"
It wasn't my money, which made asking a little shameful, but I figured I ought to know the number before I started swinging.
"When Violet first purchased the tickets, she loaded two billion won. I added everything I had on top of that, so you really don't need to worry about the amount."
"Good grief."
Two billion, tossed in like pocket change she'd found on the sidewalk — and the Chairman's entire fortune riding along with it. The bracelet suddenly felt a lot heavier than it looked.
Damn it. I should've come to a place like this in my last life and blown some money while I had the chance.
"Shall we spin it, then?"
I held the bracelet near the machine. It flashed in recognition.
"Oh."
Bet first. I just needed to punch in the number 1 — but what did 1 even mean here?
I glanced at the Chairman. She smiled brightly through the fox mask and supplied the answer.
"One is one million won."
Right. One equals a million. Completely outside my frame of reference, as expected.
With a slightly trembling hand I entered 10, then yanked the gold lever down.
The numbers and fruit whirled across the screen, tumbling over each other.
"LET'S GOOOOO!"
My roar did absolutely nothing. The result was a spectacular failure. Not a single number or fruit lined up.
"Heh. Don't be too disappointed."
"Tch."
So I really did have cursed hands. Not that it mattered. I'd walked into this casino with a strategy already built — a game I could not lose.
"My lady. Let's go play cards."
"Do you know the rules?"
"Of course."
In truth, the hand rankings had been a little fuzzy, so I'd drilled them into my head a few times before we came. And I wasn't the only one who'd memorized them.
"I'll multiply every won in this bracelet for you."
I took the Chairman's hand with total confidence and headed for the tables. She followed, her voice touched with worry.
"Even so, you mustn't spend more than ten billion. If we think about what we'll need later, that's the limit."
A comfortable spending cap of ten billion. The bracelet got heavier again.
"Don't worry. This is a game I physically cannot lose."
She still watched me with a faintly anxious look, but I just smirked — just you wait — and walked up to a table.
"Oh! Welcome. Will you be joining the game?"
A dealer in a bird mask greeted me with an exaggerated flourish. I nodded without a word. He laughed, hearty and loud.
"Perfect timing! A hand just ended, so you're walking in at the ideal moment!"
I settled onto a chair and swept a look around the table. Three solidly built men. One scarecrow-thin guy. Two women with figures that did not quit. Plus me — seven players.
The game was poker, famous the world over. The rules were Texas Hold'em: two hole cards dealt to each player, five community cards on the table. Simple on the surface, vicious underneath. A game that demanded serious psychological warfare.
"Do your best, my love."
The Chairman didn't take a seat. She stood behind me and cheered me on.
Don't worry, Chairman. I really, truly cannot lose this.
"Cards coming out!"
The dealer's hands blurred, the deck shuffled, and two cards landed in front of me.
Hmm.
The first hand played out without much drama. I kept calling and raising, and in a single blink I was down two hundred million won.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Two hundred million, gone in a few minutes. Money that size vanishing in an instant didn't even feel real.
"Heh. Heh."
The scrawny man beside me let out a thin little laugh in my direction. My Gigan-sharpened read on the table told me everyone else was wearing the same expression.
Open mockery. We found a mark.
Fine. Laugh all you want. One more hand.
We played again. I burned through three hundred million.
"Ngh."
And through that hand, I understood something with perfect clarity. Poker was gambling, yes — but it was also skill, and the skill gap was real. I'd tried to read the table with Gigan-enhanced instincts, but for someone touching cards for the first time, keeping up with the people sitting here was a lost cause.
"My love. Are you all right?"
Worry leaked through the fox mask, bright in her eyes.
"Don't worry. This time I'm doing it for real."
Yeah. This time, for real.
"Heh. Heh. Heh."
The skinny guy laughed right in my face now, no longer even pretending it was anything but a taunt. I ignored him.
Because starting now, I was taking every last won at this table.
"Hoo."
I stretched, tipping my head back toward the ceiling like I was working out a kink — and blinked. Once. Twice. A signal to my most desperately needed friend.
A familiar little pop, and there she was. My soul friend. Angel.
She'd even put on a tiny, adorable mask for the occasion.
"Player! I'm all set!"
Angel wore a look of grim determination, spinning lazy circles in midair, and casually flashed me the paper in her hand. She'd written out the entire poker ranking so I wouldn't forget. I smiled to myself.
Yes. This was the strategy. An unbeatable cheat.
Angel was invisible to everyone but me. If she read every hand at the table and fed them to me, what did that mean?
It meant the money would start printing itself.
"Let's begin!"
The dealer's cheerful call started the next game. Two hole cards landed in front of each of us, and Angel whirled from seat to seat, scribbling every hand and holding it up for me to see.
From here, all I had to do was raise or fold depending on the cards still to come.
How was this not the most perfect free lunch in existence?
First game with Angel in play. I took a clean one billion.
Second game. Bad cards. I folded.
Third game. Five hundred million.
Fourth game. Folded.
Fifth game…
As the hands stacked up, the skinny man's laughter drained away by degrees, and the rest of the table started putting out a very different kind of energy in my direction.
Suspicion, obviously.
And what were they going to do about it? Go find Angel?
The games kept coming.
An hour later, I was up forty billion won.