27. The Dice Game
Just as the band *Saikoro* began playing their song "No Problem," our dice game started.
It seemed I was first, followed by Jinri, but we were participating individually, not as a team.
Taking the die from the dealer, I threw it without hesitation toward a corner of the miniature city.
The die crashed into the city like a meteor, toppling several buildings as if crushed by Godzilla. Elite-looking humanoid robots from a securities firm crawled out of the wreckage, chanting the die's result in unison:
"Six!"
A six.
What happens next?
I stared at the dealer, who retrieved the die from the ruined city and handed it to Jinri.
Jinri immediately tossed it toward the coastline.
The die smashed through buildings along the shore, plunging into the sea and raising a massive fountain of water, like a submarine detonating a torpedo. Saltwater sprayed over the guests surrounding the table.
My face was soaked, but the coolness felt surprisingly pleasant, so I left it unwiped.
Marine creatures burst through the water's surface, shouting the die's result:
"Five!"
As Jinri acknowledged the number, the dealer, without missing a beat, retrieved the die before the miniature city's investigators could examine it and passed it to the high school boy next to Jinri, who had meticulously analyzed it earlier.
He stared at the die again, his eyes emitting a red laser-like glow. Unable to withstand the intense scrutiny, the die's single-dot face began to smoke, and suddenly, a second dot was etched onto it.
Thus, the die's "one" face was lost forever.
"Is that even allowed?" I blurted out.
"It's not against the rules," the dealer declared calmly.
Resigned to the atmosphere, I glared at the boy who had altered the die from one dot to two.
He then threw the die with the force of a full baseball swing, piercing the center of the miniature Tropical Night City and sparking a localized fire.
I began to realize something.
This game was about destroying Tropical Night City.
Gambling might be a metaphor for wrecking the city.
But Jinri quickly dismissed my naive thought.
"No, Yura. The gambling industry actually boosts the city. It's just that humanoid robots addicted to gambling suffer."
"But," I countered, "if one or two start getting hurt, won't the impact spread over time, eventually hitting the whole city?"
"Then repair jobs will emerge, and the economy might thrive again," she replied.
"So, it's an industry built on someone's suffering?"
"I don't know, but something like that."
We zoomed in on a corner of the destroyed city with microscope mode, eavesdropping on the residents' conversations.
"Looks like the game's started…"
"No choice but to repair and rebuild…"
Fragmented snippets like these echoed around us.
We could hear the words but couldn't grasp their full meaning.
The residents gazed at the ruined city, talking as if negotiating prices or burning with ambition to build new complexes and towers on barren land.
Soon, workers turned toward the high school boy in unison, shouting:
"Four!"
Hearing this, I finally understood.
"This is a countdown."
I caught the dealer's poker face falter for the first time, just a flicker.
I didn't miss that opening.
Realizing I didn't need to see the game's conclusion, I decided to conserve energy, like sparing recharge time, and prepared to enter sleep mode. There was no point wasting energy when the outcome was clear. When the city's residents shouted "One!" I'd have Jinri wake me.
"Jinri," I said with a yawn, "wake me when it's one."
"What? You're going to sleep *now*?" Her eyes widened.
"Yeah, watching more is pointless."
"But it's pretty fun!"
"I don't want to get lost in pleasure. I don't have the spare memory or energy."
"Okay, fine," she nodded easily, shifting her gaze to the girl who took the die after the boy who rolled a four. The girl was engrossed in the game with an excited expression, seemingly forgetting about me.
And so, I entered sleep mode.
"One!"
The unified shout of every being in Tropical Night City woke me naturally, without Jinri's help.
At the table's edge, a charging cable from an outlet had been connected, and my battery was fully restored to 100%.
Energy surged through me.
Even for a humanoid robot, I rediscovered the importance of sleep.
Looking to my side, Jinri was chatting with the dealer, her expression as satisfied as if she'd just finished a delicious bowl of ramen.
The dealer's demeanor had shifted from the game's cold detachment to the warmth of a friendly neighbor girl.
The red laser glow from her eyes was gone.
The game was over.
Still, I called out to Jinri, cautiously testing my throat's speaker for any rusty sounds, like a mic check.
"Done?"
"Done," she replied.
I nodded.
"How'd it go?"
With a beaming smile, she showed me a mountain of chips in her hands.
"We hit the jackpot, of course!"
I picked up a chip from the black-and-white pile, resembling cookies, and brought it to my mouth. A sweet chocolate and marshmallow-like aroma wafted up, easing the hunger from not eating during my recharge. I took a bite, the chip crunching lightly as I chewed, savoring it with my taste sensors before swallowing. The sugary junk food dropped my energy from 100% to 99%, but the happiness was worth the 1% loss.
Watching Jinri adorably munch on the chips like potato crisps, I tossed out a concluding remark.
"So, we can ride the train now?"
"Yup!" she nodded brightly. "We can, we can."
"Then," I said, standing from my seat, "let's go. No time to waste."
"Yeah, let's go!"
Her hopeful voice stirred my retinal sensors.
We handed a massive pile of chips to the dealer.
They were too heavy to carry, and with enough chips to fill five tatami mats and more, it was physically impossible to take them all.
The dealer accepted them, her expression lighting up.
"Thanks! This'll keep me in snacks for a while!"
"That's wild," I said with a wry smile. "You're eating all of them? Not cashing them in?"
"I'm rich," she replied, munching on a chip. "This ranch is mine."
"Really? That's impressive. Inherited from your parents?"
"No parents. I'm a humanoid robot. I have an owner, but they're on Earth. I built this ranch with the money I earned as a dealer."
"Why a ranch?" I asked.
"Because I love rock, but I *had* to hold a rock festival on a ranch."
"I get that vibe," Jinri interjected. "Rock and ranches just go together."
Jinri and the dealer connected on some frequency I couldn't comprehend, sharing a telepathic bond before parting ways. Jinri stood up beside me, and we left the game.
Bound again by the ranch's rules, we resumed headbanging.
After enjoying three songs from our favorite band, we left the ranch.
At the exchange counter, we hauled as many chips as we could carry and converted them all to cash.
As a result, Jinri and I ended up with enough money in our pockets to ride the train a billion times over.