Chapter 92
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Silan (6)
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Yesterday, on my way back from the gambling den, one question lingered in my mind.
"The gambling den wasn't quite the atmosphere I expected."
As someone who's dealt with the rock bottom of society, I know better. Real bottom-feeders don't act like that.
There's a common misconception from movies and media.
People think everyone at a gambling den is there just to gamble, but that's not the real reason.
The first thing operators do with new customers isn't to fleece them for money—it's to figure out what they truly crave deep down.
You might call that bullshit, but think about it: what kind of people end up at a gambling den?
"People with nothing left to lose... those hiding from their true selves, desperate for respect, the escapists."
The operators have a keen eye for what draws these people in.
If it's respect, they give respect. Recognition? They've got it. A place to crash? Done. Women? Booze? Whatever they can't get in the real world but desperately want—they nail it.
"And they let them taste it for real."
Suckers who wander in are called "checks." The ones who lure them? "Swallows."
Once the swallow brings in a check, it's all scripted from there.
They give them a taste of what they want. For people ignored in reality, it's like handing them a dream on a platter.
Tell anyone this, and without fail, they'll say the same thing.
"How do those customers not notice the operators are playing them?"
"They don't notice—or even if they do, what can they do? People with no place to go, no recognition outside... if the den gives them a year of praise and fancy titles, you think they'll reject it easily?"
No. Even knowing it's fake, they won't turn it down.
Because they have nowhere else.
And if they do have somewhere, no one's waiting with open arms.
If reality was sweet, they wouldn't end up in a dive like that.
Imagine: the den pretends to listen to their stories, nods along to their wild delusions, keeps it up relentlessly.
Who wouldn't fall for it?
People flee to the fake sweetness when reality's bitter, even if they know it's phony.
Anyway, that's how they hook them—usually by getting them to buy chips.
Chips that act as currency inside the den.
Of course, customers aren't idiots; they won't buy right away.
So they nudge them along.
"They force-feed the chips' value. Let you cash them for drinks, women, whatever."
The women you can buy? Thoroughly vetted pros. Called "servers"—literally "providers."
Sometimes "side chicks." They usually have husbands elsewhere and bleed customers dry.
That's what they're there for.
Cash in chips, buy booze and girls, and before you know it, you're a regular who can't resist buying more.
...After that, it's smooth sailing.
The den shuts down the chip exchange. Chips tank in value, and they scoop up the holdouts' chips cheap, rebranding as a "new" spot.
"And above all... real dive dens have no mirrors. But that one did."
Why no mirrors? To keep patrons from facing their reality.
To drown them in the illusion, blind to their misery.
Chairs are comfy but backless—or at best, only to the waist. No reclining.
"Because reclining makes you sleepy."
Dens want total focus on the games.
Flashy casino interiors on Earth? To fight drowsiness. The lights snap you awake.
Gambling dens are antlions' pits designed by pros to suck you dry.
"This isn't Earth, so it might differ... but human nature's the same everywhere."
Nothing in a den is random. Everything's engineered to bleed customers dry.
Every detail—looks, functions—optimized for that one goal.
That's why building or designing Earth casinos is insanely tough. Not just anyone gets the gig.
Knowing all this, it's no surprise I questioned yesterday's den.
"It didn't feel like a real den. More like a teaser."
Maybe paranoia, but I suspected a real one lurked elsewhere.
"Mr. Lee Yun-seong. What are your plans today...?"
"Hm... How was it for you yesterday, Miss Ho-yeon?"
"How was... what?"
"The gambling den. What vibe did you get?"
Wi Ho-yeon looked utterly clueless about my intent.
Truth be told, there wasn't much intent behind the question.
"Hm... Just your standard gambling den feel. Did you sense something off, Mr. Lee?"
"Not sure, but something felt a bit strange. Probably just a hunch... but I get the feeling there's a real den somewhere else."
"...Pardon? A real gambling den?"
"Don't mind it. Just... the atmosphere was way off from what I expected."
"Then what should we...?"
"Let's hit the den again like yesterday. Same roles."
This was pure speculation. If there's a real den, the swallow who fetches checks was definitely at yesterday's spot.
And I had a pretty good idea who it was.
"The guy who locked eyes with me on the way out."
That's the swallow.
"Young master, this time..."
"Relax, relax. I won't lose money, I told you."
Playing the spoiled rich brat again, the guys from yesterday's game greeted me.
"Ahem... Thanks for yesterday. Here for more games?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
I gave them a perfunctory reply while sneaking a glance at the swallow suspect.
"...Still weighing it?"
He must've eyed the gold I flashed yesterday. If there's a real den, he'd debate dragging me there.
"If he's hesitating... time to tip the scales."
And solving his dilemma? Simple.
Stick to the act. Splash cash like crazy.
"Hey!"
I flagged down a passing waitress.
"Yes, what can I get you?"
"That booze, bring it over."
"Right away, sir, here y—"
Smooth—
"Anyway, miss, doesn't working here get boring?"
I took the drink, brushing her lightly. Anyone watching would peg me as a booze-and-babes playboy.
Wi Ho-yeon was beside me, so it felt a tad awkward, but this was the fastest route to the real den.
"Loves booze, gambling, girls—practically begging to blow my fortune. Who could resist approaching?"
"Sir... I'm working, so..."
Her reaction screamed "not a server." The staff here seemed legit waitresses.
"Aw, too bad. Got it."
I sent her off, and a voice piped up right after.
"Lee Yu... I mean, young master."
Wi Ho-yeon eyed me with an odd look.
"Ahem, no... it's not like that..."
"...Really."
"...What do you take me for, Miss Ho-yeon."
"Shit... don't get the wrong idea."
Just in case, but if she blabbed to Seo Yu-ju, I'd be in hot water.
Imagining Seo Yu-ju flying off the handle over a misunderstanding gave me a headache.
"Crazy..."
"That young guy's a real perv, huh? Didn't notice yesterday."
"Knew it from the escort. Wait, that 'escort' ain't what it sounds like, right?"
"Fucking idiots... shut up..."
Grinning like fools, oblivious to who they were messing with.
I wondered what they'd do if I told them the "girl" was the Sword Empress, but no dice.
Suddenly self-conscious about Wi Ho-yeon. If those comments pissed her off, I'd catch hell.
"...She okay?"
No change in her expression.
Just standing guard, true to her role.
"Not sure if she's committed to the job... or just hiding her anger."
Her poker face made emotions hard to read.
"Hey, who hates girls? Anyway, let's have fun today. Fair warning: no refunds."
"Heh... yeah. We won't go easy either."
"Whatever."
As I gambled, tossing cash at passing waitresses for drinks, light touches here and there—their eyes weren't casual anymore.
"Splashing cash draws eyes, right?"
"Grr..."
I sipped booze, feigned obsession with the games.
"Damn, luck's shit today."
"Haha, bound to happen. Say, young master."
"What?"
"Your escort looks bored. Wanna join us?"
"Yeah, standing's gotta suck. Right?"
"Ha... are they nuts?"
As I opened my mouth, Wi Ho-yeon beat me to it.
"...I'm fine. Guarding the young master is enough."
"Damn, loyal. Would do anything her boss says, huh?"
"Fuck, these psychos... can't even wipe their own asses..."
Their sleazy jabs at her were bad enough, but the real issue was elsewhere.
I could peek cards with my skills, so I won and lost on purpose—but that's not what I wanted.
"Only two days in—too soon?"
I figured the swallow would bite by now, but no.
Makes sense: new face, unknown background. He'd hesitate.
"In this spot... his best move's limited."
The top option?
"Talk to me directly, size me up."
"...After this round, game with me?"
Sure enough, there he was—approaching, words out.