"One. Billion. Dollars!"
The girl's voice echoed through the air, as she proposed the unthinkable wager.
I flashed a sly, villainous grin, reminiscent of anime's most notorious antagonists, as I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose.
My Cheshire cat-like smile seemed to unnerve the naive East Asian girl, but I reveled in her unease.
"Let's make it more... interesting," I exclaimed.
The girl leaned in, her curiosity piqued.
I smirked mischievously. "In addition to the billion-dollar prize, the loser must surrender their shares in the prestigious Golden Dragon Pharmaceuticals Corporation."
The girl's eyes widened, and she gulped audibly.
Golden Dragon Pharmaceuticals Corporation was not an ordinary company, as a matter-of-fact, it is a company that has been in her family for generations.
Her lineage was on the line, and I sensed her hesitation.
But I wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away.
My mission was far from over, and I had a mere five hours to escape the country before my family's ruthless tactics caught up with me.
To make matters worse, I had faked my own death – again – which meant I couldn't access my funds without arousing suspicion.
The dead, after all, don't claim their belongings.
I pitied myself, but only for a moment.
After minutes of intense deliberation, the girl – my business partner's daughter – finally agreed to my terms.
"Fine, I accept your condition. But to ensure fairness, let's take it up a notch."
With a flick of her wrist, a team of burly security guards and reporters materialized, ready to capture the drama.
"It's not every day that the national princess takes on a commoner – or a business partner, if you will," she sneered.
I simply grinned, unfazed by her insults."True, it's not often that the national princess makes headlines for indulging in such frivolous games. But I'm always up for a challenge – especially when the stakes are this high."
___
Who am I? What's my story?
Simple – I'm a pawn in a high-stakes game of chess, constantly on the run from my family's manipulative legacy.
Don't get me wrong, I'm no coward, and my family isn't one to be trifled with.
They're a powerful clan with a reputation that commands fear and respect. I'm a prime example – my entire life has been a cat-and-mouse game.
I've run from the truth, assuming different identities in various parts of the world.
But each time, I've been caught – either by a spy, one of my many siblings hiding in the shadows, or by a mole within my own circle.
Now, I'm on my own, but to keep running, I need cash and a new identity.
There's just one major problem – my family's frozen my bank account, and if I make even the slightest move, it's game over.
That was until the national princess –
otherwise known as my business partner's daughter and my arch-nemesis from
school, who has no idea who I really am thanks to my clever disguise – walked into
the casino where I was lamenting my poverty.
And somehow, she managed to worm her way into my business and propose a bet.
A bet I'm confident I'll win, one that would keep me financially stable for a while!
There's just one problem – I discovered this delicate princess, the campus beauty, is
actually a Sic Bo mastermind.
___
"Stunning performance, Mei-Ling has done it again!"
A young reporter's voice boomed enthusiastically through the microphone after Mei-Ling scored yet another point.
His tone was exaggerated, leaving only two possibilities – he was either paid to promote her or smitten by her charms.
I suspected the latter.
I calmly ignite a cigar, my eyes fixed on Mei-Ling as she savored her victory with a subtle smile.
A long, slow exhale veils my expression behind a curtain of smoke.
My thoughts were clear, though.
"Not bad...for an amateur"
As if reading my mind, Mei-Ling flashes a sly smile and says, "Impressed?" – expecting to provoke a reaction.
But her words fell flat; her stroke of luck left me utterly unmoved.
Her showy display didn't impress me one bit.
Honestly, I thought it was a total waste of time.
But I played along, nodding my head to
make Mei think I was blown away by her skills, that she was the superior player.
My plan was to plant a seed of overconfidence in her mind, to make her
drop her guard and become vulnerable during the game.
A careless opponent is a predator's dream catch.
The weaker her defenses, the easier the game.
And the easier the game, the sooner I'd get my hands on that juicy one billion dollars.
I called it clever tactics, but others might call it dark psychology.
"..."
That annoying reporter was at it again shoving his mic in my face.
"Come on, admit defeat already. Mei's the queen of this game!"
He taunted, and for a moment, I fantasized about choking him with his own microphone.
The only things stopping me were my sanity and desperation.
Of course, I couldn't risk losing my cool, not when I was already walking on thin ice.
"He is right, after all, no one beats Mei."
Mei Ling bragged, completely clueless that her Sic Bo skills were as weak as her intimidating glare.
Did she really think raising an eyebrow would scare me off?
Please, it only made her look like a worn-out mop that had been used to clean a dirty public bathroom.
AND...I have seen better-looking things in a public bathroom.
No offense, but I wasn't like those guys who fell head over heels for a pretty face.
I was the guy who would look a girl dead in the eye and tell her she had a piece of lettuce stuck between her teeth, without batting an eyelash.
Where I came from, brutal honesty was the norm.
Sadly, the reason why I was still single and flying solo.
My brutal honesty was a major turn-off for most girls.
No girl would survive an hour-long conversation with me, let alone a date.
My unfiltered words were like a ticking time bomb,
and girls would bolt out of the room in tears after barely a minute of talking to me.
Imagine asking my opinion on your outfit, expecting me to gush about how stunning you look,
only to hear me say your dress makes you look like a stuffed sausage.
No sugarcoating, no flattery – just pure, unadulterated honesty.
I'd tell you your bright orange jumpsuit makes you look like a traffic cone, not a supermodel strutting down a catwalk.
And the grand finale? I'd casually drop a call me later, just to see if you'd take the bait.
And, oh, the foolish ones who actually did call back, only to discover Mr. Kevin had vanished into thin air.
Heart-wrenching, I know, especially when I
had to deal with multiple frozen accounts
courtesy of my meddling family and their ancient traditions.