How most interesting for Arthur.
He could gladly expose their secrets right here and now. But where was the fun in that?
This was just another test for him to prove himself once again.
After all, the only prohibition in this entire casino was the illegal transfer of chips. That meant cheating was permissible so long as the player didn't get caught.
"Excuse me," Arthur asked, turning to the dealer, "could I get a pen?" The dealer handed him one, and as Arthur reached for it, he purposely dropped it, causing the pen to roll just under the table. "My sincere apologies," he exclaimed, crouching down to retrieve it.
The moment he returned to his seat, he caught a glimpse of the man with the cigar narrowing his eyes. Then shock registered on his face, for he couldn't quite see what he wanted to.
That's because Arthur had cleverly shifted one of the mirrors reflecting the table.
How did he do it? The cap from the pen had been thrown with chakra-enhanced precision, knocking a nearby object just enough to disrupt the careful alignment of a mirror.
Change one mirror by even an inch, and the whole strategy fell apart.
But when Arthur looked again, he saw a gleam of determination still in the man's eyes.
'Can't win 'em all, I suppose,' he thought.
Even though he had stopped one plot, that didn't mean the man with the cigar didn't have more.
The round continued, and Arthur watched as the cigar-wielding player won the hand. His chips multiplied, yet Arthur rested his hand against his chin, disinterested.
Each player had their tricks, vaulting through their own personal loopholes, further implying how interesting this round had changed.
"Where ya from," the elder woman wondered, "if ya don't mind me askin'?"
"Let's just say it's far from here," Arthur answered, twirling the chips between his fingers. "What about you? Your face is almost everywhere I look in this city."
Some of the spectators whispered to one another. "He doesn't know who Diana is?"
"You're really not free here," she said, putting out her cigarette. "Well, I guess I should introduce myself. My name's Diana, and I own half this city."
That was a very big deal for a country called the "Land of Money." But did that matter to a man like Arthur right now?
Not even close.
Things eventually took a turn for the worse at the blackjack table.
Arthur found himself losing—enough to reduce his pile of chips to just over 280,000 ryō, a huge dip from the heights he had moments before.
For this next round, he decided to play it conservatively by placing one solitary purple chip.
The move drew immediate ire from the man with the cigar. "Why only 5,000? Afraid now that I'm winning?" Arthur merely smirked as he met the cigar man's gaze. That made the man more irritated. "I'll wipe that smirk off your face." Then he looked at the dealer. "Hit me…"
By the end of his turn, he wound up with twenty and began laughing. Many cheered for his success.
Just then, the quiet man with the shades made a bold move; he leaned back in his chair and declared, "I'll go all in…"
All of his chips slid to the center table, shocking even the cigar man into silence.
That was because the man in the shades was at seventeen. If he lost, he'd be completely wiped out!
"What are you doing?" the man with the cigar blurted out, knowing the count was now at one million ryō. "You can't possibly want to go all in with that much!"
But the man with the shades was calm. "I see your kind in this city all the time. Just because you know a few tricks doesn't mean you understand how to gamble."
Now it became clear to the spectators: the man with the shades was attempting to get rid of the cigar man for cheating.
"What's he mean by tricks?" someone from the crowd asked.
"I dunno; he didn't look to be cheating."
The only other person who could see through this accusation was Arthur.
So what had the cigar man been doing? Simple: he was using a third party.
This method involved a confederate watching the game from a distance and sending covert signals to the main player about which cards to play against the dealer.
"You might want to bring that elsewhere," the man in the shades smirked, "unless you plan on backing out now."
Colours flared in the cigar man's cheeks as he bristled in frustration. No one was blatantly accusing him of anything, but it hurt his pride nonetheless.
With a snarl, he finally threw his chips onto the table, declaring, "I'm all in too! I'll take your chips and those fancy sunglasses when I'm done." But beneath that bravado, Arthur saw the man was sweating. "Mark my words!"
As the dealer began to deal the cards, time slowed down.
The first card fell for the man with shades—an ace (eighteen). The second card revealed itself—another ace (nineteen). Then the last card fell—a two.
"Twenty one!"
The cigar man's face went pale.
"Sorry," the man in the shades smirked, collecting all the chips, "but the limit to play at this table is fifty thousand ryō. You have zero."
Without notice, the cigar man collapsed on the table.
"Is there a doctor in the house?!" a spectator yelled.
Yet no one rushed to immediately help him. It was as if the theater of wealth and loss had long outgrown compassion; everyone returned their focus to the remaining players, eager for the next round.
It took quite a while for someone to actually remove the man from the table.
Arthur himself leaned back, not at all distraught by the scene.
That's when the shades shifted his attention to Arthur and said, "Now then… I wonder what tricks you'll show me."
Was that a challenge?
"No tricks here," Arthur confessed. "Just a harmless card game."
Most players in the room would have been intimidated after all those theatrics, of which all the other remaining players were already used to this sort of fiasco.
But Arthur? The unflappable aura surrounding him was certainly strange. It felt as if he already knew the outcome.
As such, the man adjusted his shades, choosing not to be ensnared by whoever or whatever Arthur was. Whatever this 'newbie' was hiding, the man in the shades was bound to figure it out eventually.
Right?
After a few rounds, the table became extremely apprehensive due to Arthur's impressive winning streak. His total chips had elevated to nearly one and a half million ryō!
The spectators' eyes kept darting between the mountain of chips before him and the increasingly agitated man in shades. That same man had lost more than sixty percent of his earnings.
There was heavy tension as Arthur sat relaxed in his chair while the other players exchanged incredulous looks.
For the first time that evening, the man in shades stood up in frustration. He tilted his head in a way that betrayed his irritation, signaling to the guards stationed at the perimeter of the table.
"You!" he snapped at Arthur. "Stand up!"
Unperturbed, Arthur rose from his seat, feeling the weight of everyone's gazes on him. It was to be expected.
The guards moved in close, and when they reached him, they patted him down almost too aggressively in front of the gathering audience. The scrutiny was quite invasive. Uncomfortable even.
Through it all, however, Arthur remained aloof, eyes closed as if not feeling a thing. He knew he had nothing to hide, and the invasive nature of their checks did little more than make him feel innocent.
Spectators murmured, questioning the morality and personal rights behind this act.
When the guards couldn't find anything, they exchanged a nod to the man in shades, indicating that Arthur was indeed clean.
A few patrons clapped, admiring his showmanship amidst an unnecessary search.
So the man in shades returned to his seat. But Arthur remained standing, provoking curiosity from Diana seated next to him.
"Why are you still standing?" she inquired in a probing tone.
"Because..." Arthur said, finally opening his eyes, "it's time I addressed the real cheaters." The surrounding onlookers looked one to another as he locked eyes with the man in shades. "Why don't you tell them? Or would you rather have me expose your little act?"
"Cheating?" the man scoffed. He then leaned forward. "You think you can accuse someone like me without proof?"
Arthur took a moment, letting the drama build as the audience became eager to hear what would happen next.
Could he truly prove that the man was cheating?
By all means.
The method this particular gambler had used was called collusion with an insider. It meant that he had enlisted help from the dealer to manipulate the game in his favour—all without anyone being aware.
To prove something like that, however, would be a spectacle.
"Your name," Arthur began, "is Dennis Nikrasch…"
At that, the man's facial expression shifted from condescension to shock.
Then silence as the man stalled, clearly taken aback.
The skinnier fellow seated across the table furrowed his brow. "Who's this Dennis? I thought his name was Chad?"
Diana was also intrigued. It was clear that everyone at this table knew one another. So indeed was Dennis?
The man with shades soon regained his composure before deliberately nodding at the dealer.
"What's going on?" asked Diana.
"This discussion is no longer appropriate for public ears," declared the man in shades, rising from the table. "I fold." Then he looked squarely at Arthur. "But you… come with me so we can talk in private."
Arthur didn't yield.
"And what of my winnings?" he challenged. "You accused me of cheating and had me touched without consent. Wouldn't it be wise to compensate me fairly?"
The man's eyes twitched, now understanding that Arthur was no one to be bossed around.
"Fine…" the man conceded. "You can bring your chips, too."
Diana and the rest of the spectators were left confused as eyes watched Arthur and the man leave.
Just who was Arthur, they wondered—and what did he know about that name that would make the man in shades so desperate to keep it a secret?