The two men reached their destination, the dim alley echoing with the distant buzz of city noise as they approached the gambling den.
"Is there a Hamilton cigarette here? " Eldric asked a woman standing nearby, using the coded phrase.
"Inside," she replied without pause, motioning toward a narrow metal door.
Creeeaaakkk.
The rusted hinges groaned as the door opened. Smoke poured out from the dark interior, thick with the smell of sweat, beer, and tobacco. The room was buzzing—men crowded around tables, shouting bets and curses while others nursed warm bottles of beer.
Eldric leaned close to Leif.
"Look for our man," he whispered.
Leif gave a subtle nod, his eyes already scanning. Their movements were casual, but their senses were sharp.
"This way," the woman said, leading them toward a poker table. "This guy here will explain the rules."
"Thank you."
The woman stepped away, and a tall, red-eyed man with disheveled clothes greeted them. His voice was gravelly from too many nights like this.
"You probably know the rules. Just sit and show me how you play."
"That's all?"
"What else would you want?"
"Hm. Nothing. So, what are we playing tonight?"
"Poker."
"Ha! That's... alright. Let's see how lucky we are."
"I like you," said a rough-looking man from across the table, eyeing Eldric with interest. "What about your friend?"
"He's just watching tonight. Learning the ropes."
"Hmm."
Leif casually circled the room, eyes absorbing every detail. Faces, exits, weapons. His movements blended in with the crowd, but his mind was anything but idle.
"I fold," muttered one man.
"Bet," said the man across Eldric.
"You're good at this... for someone who doesn't look the part," he added with a suspicious smirk.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Eldric replied, calm and steady.
"Raise," he said, pushing chips forward.
"The showdown begins."
"Let's see your cards."
The man grinned confidently—until he saw Eldric's hand.
"What the—?! You cheated!" he roared, slamming his fists on the table.
"How could I? I'm still new here," Eldric said smoothly.
Leif returned, placing a hand lightly on Eldric's shoulder.
"He's here."
Eldric gave a subtle tap on the hidden alarm button beneath his coat sleeve. Seconds later—
CRASH!
Police stormed in, splintering the entrance. Chaos erupted. Patrons screamed. Some tried to escape, only to be blocked by a tactical line of officers.
The stout man they were hunting bolted for the back—but Leif was faster.
"You're not going anywhere," he growled, grabbing him and slamming him to the ground.
"Get off me, you fool!" the man barked, struggling against the cuffs.
Meanwhile, the man who played with Eldric leaned back, chuckling through the smoke.
"So, you're a cop."
"Hm," Eldric gave a half-smile. "Nice playing with you"
"I really like you. What's your name?"
"Eldric Noor."
"Nice name. I'm Kirsten."
"Pleasure." Despite the walls between them—one a lawman, the other a gambler—they shared a strange, mutual respect in that moment.
"Did you get him?" Eldric asked as he stepped outside.
"He's in the car," Leif confirmed.
"Let me see him."
They approached the police car. Inside, the handcuffed man scowled at them, his confusion evident, but his glare as vicious as ever.
"Take him away. We'll be right behind you," Eldric ordered.
The car drove off into the misty city night, leaving behind the echoes of chaos—and the first break in a much larger case.