agoraphobic_dragon
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Godfather's System 38
🕑 Added 2023-02-18 15:00:03 +0000 UTCCheating against a bunch of amateurs was going to be easy, I decided even as I watched the current dealer use the palm swish once again for the next bet, replacing weighed dice with normal dice for a few hands.
The palm switch was a simple trick in concept. Hold a pair of dice in hand, hidden, while grabbing the target dice on the ground, but put the initial set into the throwing cup instead.
Ordinarily, that trick requires incredibly nimble fingers, the kind that requires years of practice.
Things were a bit different in my new world. The dealer’s fingers were nimbler than the professional illusionists back in my world, making the move almost trivial to him. Without my perception, I wouldn’t have noticed it — at least not at first.
He had some glaring problems, the kind that couldn’t be overcome by finger speed. The first was the way he reached. It looked natural at first, but after a few repeats, I could see that he was basically the same move. At no point, the palm points upward, even as a fist, the monotony enough to show the ordinary nature of the trick.
Another problem was the nonsensical bets, ignoring any sense of chance as he used his weighed dice to make improbable bets, only to win. They didn’t seem to be very aware of the probabilities, and they were amateurs at best when it came to gambling, but still, it was a dangerous call.
Yet, the biggest problem was even simpler. He was winning too consistently. He wasn’t betting on every hand, but any hand that he bet big, he was winning, which was already earning some suspicious gazes.
“Curses,” I murmured as I lost another hand, abandoning three more denicas, which went to the steadily growing pile in front of the cheater.
That dealer wasn’t the only one cheating as far as I could see, but he was the one that was cheating most smoothly. Occasionally the dealer cup was passed to others, changing the pace of the earning to others. Just not enough to change the pattern too much.
“Maybe you should try to keep it down a bit,” Gert said, as the move emptied the pouch I had gotten from Silas completely, seemingly broke. His tone was soft, but the twitch around his neck was enough to show why he was concerned. He was afraid of a violent outburst.
“Don’t worry, young man,” I said as I laughed boisterously, looking like one of the cheerful losers. “Where’s the fun in gambling if you don’t start by losing the game. It only makes it more fun once I start winning,” I said. “Now, I’ll go get some more silver, and we can continue.”
Distracted by my show, none of them noticed I was keeping my other hand in my pocket to avoid it making any sound. I walked around the camp, looking for an opportunity, which came in the form of a small accident. Someone was having trouble pushing a stake down for his tent.
“Let me help you,” I said, and used the opportunity to grab a bunch of rocks from the ground, and filled my pouch without anyone noticing. No one was following me, but at this point, I was already famous in the camp, enough that even filling a pouch with rocks required careful attention.
I still made a point the circle the section of our camp — and noticed several people watching the Red, some wearing bands, the others not. Another sign that things would soon turn violent between the groups.
Once again, not my problem, I decided as I went back to the campfire, and threw two pouches in front of me, one filled with about twenty denicas worth of silver, the other about fifty denicas of pebbles.
I kept the rock pouch closer to my legs, but still visible, to give the impression of bigger riches, even as I poured the silver one in front of me. “Let’s play,” I said happily, but this time, I picked a steadier path to play than just trying to steal from the piles.
Catching the cheaters had its advantages. I made my bets carefully, so that whenever I won big, above a couple of denicas, they were overshadowed by the others winning much more. And, more importantly, as they grumbled about their bigger loss, none of them noticed I hadn’t put my earnings back into the pile, and instead went to the pouch that was hidden in a nice shadowed corner between my legs.
I wasn’t afraid of them noticing it, as unlike them, I actually had a good understanding of how to pull sleigh-of-hand tricks, which was supported by my significant Agility.
Then, just as I had only a couple denicas left in front of me, I saw Karak. I raised my rock-filled pouch, and weighed in hand, acting like I was considering putting that into the game, which was not a small amount considering the combined wealth of the group was about five hundred denicas — changing slightly as people joined and left.
That movement was welcome, allowing the others to miss the fact that I earned about eighty denicas in the process, ten times the amount I earned a day of hard work. With everyone looking at the other pouch, I used my other hand to hide my real earnings.
“I think that’s enough for me, boys,” I said, doing my best to sound reluctant, but not angry. “I still need to buy a decent weapon. But I expect everyone to be here tomorrow as well. It’s only fair that I have a chance to earn back my losses.”
Cheers of agreement rose from the group. After all, everyone loved a rich loser, especially when that loser had good humor about his failures. “You’re welcome anytime, old man,” one of them laughed, slurring happy with his perceived success.
After all, from their perspective, I had lost almost fifty denicas of silver while playing, and he managed to take almost ten denicas in one hand…
Funny, considering I was leaving the game ten times the money I started.
Skill difference, poor lighting, their half-drunk state, and the fact that they were using misshapen pieces of metal as money that was hard to properly track… Combined, it made cheating easy enough that I almost felt bad.
Almost.
I was whistling in the fun as I left the group. Of course, technically, with the fear they had toward me, I could have just played openly and won, and none of them would have dared to make any move. But that would be like killing the goose with the golden egg.
No one wanted to play with a consistent winner, and everyone loved to play with a good-natured loser that couldn’t learn his lesson.
I walked toward Karak, who was looking at me questioningly. “Not a good game, but it’s not a big problem,” I said. I could see that he was curious about it, but not enough to actually bother speaking.
And I wasn’t chatty enough to answer his unasked questions.
It was fun to have Karak accompany me, his silence rather calming … pity the rest of the camp didn’t agree to let me relax.
“One second,” I said as I gestured to Karak and stopped, removed one of my boots, and used a sleight-of-hand trick to make it look like I pulled out a rock from my boot.
It was the simplest trick in the book to catch stalkers. I would have used it out of habit — after a lifetime where assassination was a common threat, it was ingrained — though I had already noticed one following me, from our section, sticking close. And the moment I stopped, he did, confirming that not only he was following me, but also doing so incompetently.
So did two others, one wearing a black band, the other with no band. However, Memory came useful in that aspect. I had a good sense for faces already, and enhanced to a near-supernatural level — not as supernatural as Strength or Agility considering it only had a few points — it didn’t take long for me to identify him as belonging to the Greens.
Curious about how many people were following me, I decided to use a couple other tricks. The easiest trick, one that I already applied, was to break the pattern. By suddenly stopping, I forced them to either stop and reveal, or continue.
Like any simple trick, it wouldn’t be enough to trick anyone with even the slightest awareness of what they were doing. For them, I applied another trick. Rather than picking the easiest and most direct route toward our target inner camp, I took a large detour. “I want to see if there’s anything useful, just in case,” I explained to Karak when he looked questioningly but didn’t explain anything more.
After a couple suboptimal routes, we finally left the camp, and started walking toward the inner camp. The road was crowded, but not crowded enough to hide the familiar faces of my followers.
Six in total, two wearing black bands — but one of them actually belonging to the Greens — and four without signs, one Red, one Green, and two Black; making a total of three Blacks and two Greens.
A nice number, and more than I expected to catch with two simple tricks. All they needed was to assign one to follow me in the camp, and one while traveling, and they would have avoided the problem.
I paid some attention to Karak, tracking his gaze to see he managed to identify four of the six followers. Not a bad number for an amateur. I chuckled even as I continued walking without a visible concern. I didn’t have any trouble with having followers, especially since the road between the two camps was simply too open to launch any kind of attack.
Still, I made a note to get some spare clothes, maybe a ripped cloak, a hat, and maybe even a wig that could be used for some kind of quick change in case I had something I actually wanted to do.
A note for the future, I decided as I traversed the path behind Karak, enjoying the momentary silence…
