Spinning the 45.6 Billion Slot Machine
……All victims of the Vice Cam-O scam get their principal back, plus interest. That means Jenica's balance—plunged into an abyss of despair so deep she was sniffling under the covers—gets restored in one shot.
This is a pretty good deal. No, actually, it's an amazing deal.
But Sia doesn't seem to think so.
"I've heard every word, but is there a guarantee? Not just a verbal promise."
Sia crosses her arms with her question, and Jeong Ah-reum stares at her blankly for a moment before scratching her cheek, as if suddenly realizing something.
"Ah, it's only natural that common folk wouldn't grasp the weight of a chaebol's word, you see. I understand."
There's no malice in Jeong Ah-reum's tone. Not even a hint of emotion. She seems to genuinely believe it. But the lofty phrasing rubs Sia the wrong way, sharpening her glare.
Jeong Ah-reum, unperturbed, wiggles a finger.
"Bring it in."
The parlor door opens quietly, and a maid enters. She approaches carefully, holding something on a black velvet cushion. A belt. A superhuman pro wrestling champion's belt. The center gleams with a golden emblem, surrounded by densely embedded crystals and jewels.
The maid places the velvet cushion and belt on the table.
"The Superhuman Pro Wrestling World Champion Belt. Crafted from one hundred percent pure gold, you see. And all the decorative gems are genuine too."
"……Pardon?"
Sia freezes like a statue, mouth half-open in sheer absurdity.
"I won this last year—it's my pride and joy, worth more than my life. I'll pledge it as collateral right here."
The little thoughts in my mental world send admiring glances. Some have already changed into costumes—a mustached grandpa in a red hood and sunglasses, a massive bald guy with one eyebrow raised, a blond marine saluting army-style.
Hmm, I know exactly who they are.
Unlike the delighted little thoughts, Sia's face is a mask of reluctance.
"……The Superhuman Pro Wrestling Champion Belt?"
"Yes. If I break my promise, dispose of it as you like. Gold value alone exceeds 3 billion won. Add the jewels and—"
Sia raises a hand, cutting Jeong Ah-reum off.
"No need to explain. If you're really putting this up as collateral……"
"Great! Deal!"
Jeong Ah-reum stands and extends her hand to Sia, who rises with a resigned sigh and shakes it.
And so, Operation Catch the Mirae Group Rat Bastards begins.
Meanwhile, I sit beside them, diligently transferring the desserts into my internal subspace. They served them to me, so it's fine to take it all. Hehehe.
…………
Operation Catch the Mirae Group Side-Branch Rat Bastards.
Here's the detailed plan Jeong Ah-reum laid out.
Lately, the android maid fixer Sia has been making waves in Seoul's underworld. Spread rumors that she infiltrated Mirae Group HQ and stole prime intel.
The intel? Side-branch executives raking in slush funds through illegal means—and the outline of their money pipelines.
Once the rumors spread, Sia plays coy like she knows something, pulling aggro at businesses suspected as their fund sources.
The spooked side-branch rats will bite the bait themselves. They can't just hide when their pipelines are exposed.
As Jeong Ah-reum put it, this draws out the rats that'd never move otherwise.
Pretty solid bait op. Even the tranq-dart maniac detective from the comics would tip his hat.
And so, our destination is—a casino in Gangnam.
Looks clean on the surface, but it's a laundry for the side-branch rats' dirty money. Bundles of untraceable cash turn to chips, then clean cash.
No one fits pulling aggro here better than mercenary ace Cheon Jung-sa. Even if she's an android maid now.
"Double again."
A beautiful maid android in the casino's heart, stacking chips right in front of her nose. The bizarre combo can't help but draw eyes.
"Maid android……?"
"Where's her owner?"
"Some chaebol wife's proxy?"
Whispers erupt everywhere. Sia seems to revel in the attention, even bantering with the guy next to her.
Hmm, way friendlier than her Cheon Jung-sa days. Does the android body have a sociability module?
No such module. It'd alter her personality—she wouldn't be the real Cheon Jung-sa anymore.
She's just instinctively using her current body. A girl's looks lower guards and draw goodwill.
Hoo. So she's adapted to the cutie body.
If souls exist, does Sia's look like Cheon Jung-sa or Sia? Kinda philosophical.
Anyway.
Lurking nearby, I stop in front of a massive machine set aside. A supersized slot machine twice human height. Bold letters on the top LED sign: Abyss.
Ah, this must be the casino's infamous star—the one from that comic about evil snouted gamblers ruining honest folks' lives.
They say it'll trap you, but still wanna go in—what's their deal?
Curious myself, I peer inside. The Abyss works like pinball. Tiny silver balls drop from the top, bounce through obstacles, and get sucked into holes. Out of dozens of holes, only the tiniest golden one wins.
Above the machine: [Cumulative Jackpot: 45.6 billion won].
Cumulative Jackpot: 45.6 billion won
So—land a ball in that gold hole, and 45.6 billion is mine. Nice.
Shall I?
Drop one of Sia's chip stacks into the slot, grab the lever, pull.
Clatter, clatter. The ball drops, bounces between pins, heads down—sucked into the hole right next to jackpot.
Whiff.
Tsk. Shove in the next chip. Same story. Teases the jackpot hole, drops beside. Next hovers over it, then a tiny gust from inside shoves it aside. Next? Perfect angle—bam, transparent plastic barrier pops out.
Argh. All my chips gone but one.
Win rate's ridiculously low.
> Slot machine RTP averages ~90%.
> Abyss model: 0%. No real win probability.
Then why gamble?
> All past jackpots dumped to single final winner.
> Hit it: 45.6B won! Tempting.
But no winners yet? No one's that dumb.
> Lee Se-hee (5 yrs ago)
> Jeong Ah-reum (3 yrs ago)
> Korean VIP (1 yr ago)
> Conclusion: VIP hospitality machine.
Aha. Rigged wins for select VIPs—launder massive "legal" income tax-free.
Stare at my last chip in my palm. Final shot. Sia's aggro chips, sure—but her money.
Waste her hard-earned? Kinda guilty.
No choice. Glance around. Sia's still at blackjack, eyes on her.
Good. Smarty thought entities—you got this?
Child's play—not even basic hacking. Wrap a hair around the ball and yank.
The glasses one smirks, arms crossed.
Perfect. Do it.
Drop the last chip, pull lever. Clink. Silver ball drops, bounces toward non-jackpot—then arcs unnaturally toward gold.
Why? My hair's coiled around it, pulling.
Gust from inside? Ignores it, barrels straight. Plastic barrier? Forces it wide—
Plop. Into the jackpot hole.
That instant—
Para-bara-bara-bara-bara—!!
The Abyss LED flashes wildly, blaring fanfare across the casino.
ABYSS HIT!
"……Huh?!"
"W-what?!"
"Abyss?! Jackpot on the Abyss?!"
"No way, someone hit it? Lee Se-hee again?!"
Every eye in the casino snaps here. Dealers, bunny boys with drinks, patrons—all freeze, heads turning.
LED flashes final: [Jackpot: 45.6 billion won].
Jackpot: 45.6 billion won
Some make paper crowns, others spray fake cash bundles. Yeah—at least a century of snacks. Hehehe.
Meanwhile, shocked Sia pushes through the crowd.
"Little miss! What the—!"
Her hug feels more horror than joy as she whispers:
(Miss, you didn't cheat, right? Normies can't win that machine!)
Eep. I look away, staring at nothing. The little thoughts whistle innocently.
"Ugh……you did cheat?"
Sia clutches her head at my reaction.
Well, y'see……
I didn't. Glasses one did.
Hehehe.
M-me!? But I'm part of you—!
Glasses one protests, face red, but I ignore.
——But.
No payout procedure starts for the 45.6 billion.
Instead, burly suits screaming "I'm the bad guy" swarm from nowhere, encircling us.
Hmm. Kinda like when maids surrounded us.