The lights of the Golden Spine Casino flickered. The ten-story building towered over the millionaire district, where fortunes were made and destroyed in a single night.
Behind the shiny façade hid rigged games, toxic cocktails, and well-hidden Caledrons.
In a back alley, a black van pulled up.
Inside, Dante adjusted a black three-piece suit—too tight for his biceps.
— "I look like a gorilla kidnapped for a luxury brand ad..."
— "You mostly look like the kind of brute nobody wants to frisk." Replied Lexie, applying red lipstick in a small mirror.
She wore a crimson dress, a holster strapped under her right thigh, and a pair of connected glasses.
— "And what am I, then ? The bellboy ?" grumbled Nash, dressed as a waiter, tray in hand, earpiece in place.
— "You're the ears. You listen, analyze. And most importantly, you don't touch anything, Einstein."
— "Except for the casino's internal network, which I'll steal with style," Nash replied, tapping his holographic watch.
Lexie turned to Dante, handing him a chip.
— "Put this in your ear. Mic. We'll guide you. Your job, distract Andros Caledron, head of gaming. He's here tonight."
Dante raised an eyebrow.
— "And if I can't make him talk?"
— "Then I'll let you torture him."
---
Inside the casino, was chandeliers, hundreds of poker, roulette, and blackjack tables, with VIP corners that reeked of arrogance and bribes.
Dante entered, escorted by Lexie, clinging to his arm.
Heads turned. His silent killer's face contrasted with his poorly mastered elegance. He growled quietly at every tight button on his suit.
— "Stay cool," whispered Lexie. "Just pretend you're a Russian mob boss laundering millions. Easy."
Nash, already inside, weaved between tables, tray in hand.
— "Camera 3's out. And Andros' office signal is hacked. We can listen in. But we can't get in yet. Biometrics lock. We need him to come to you."
Lexie snapped her fingers.
— "We provoke him on his own turf. Dante… go blow up his poker table. With style."
At the central VIP table sat Andros Caledron. Thin, smiling, slicked-back hair, blinding white suit. Surrounded by bodyguards and a bottle of champagne that probably cost more than the entire Spirals HQ.
He laughed as he crushed novice players. Behind him, men took notes of every move. He played more with lives than with cards.
Dante approached calmly.
— "I hear you're the man to beat around here."
Andros stared at him, a sly smile on his lips.
— "And you are, Mister…?"
— "Name's Kurgan. And tonight, I'm going all in."
Lexie appeared behind him.
— "Problem? He's authorized to play. And he's got the means."
Dante placed a small case on the table. Inside, black chips. Ultra-VIP.
Andros leaned in. His gaze sharpened for a brief moment.
— "Very well. Take a seat. Let's see if you're better at cards than your muscles suggest."
Around, Andros's bodyguards loomed—shades on, earpieces in, poker-faced. Lexie watched from a velvet couch, feigning boredom as she nursed a martini. Nash speak in Dante's earpiece :
— "Cameras are frozen. You can play dirty. But heads up—he's already cheating."
Dante took a seat across from Andros Caledron, whose smile had all the charm of a crocodile watching a gazelle lose footing.
The dealer—a humanoid bot with unnervingly smooth gestures—shuffled and dealt. Texas Hold'em, No Limit. High-roller mode. Blinds at 10K and 20K credits.
First hand.
Dante on the small blind. Andros on the big.
Hole cards :
— Dante : 9♠ 10♠
— Andros : Unknown (Nash was already hacking thermal cams to peek at his hand.)
Dante raises to 60K. Andros calls, cool as ice.
Flop : 7♠ 8♣ J♦
Dante keeps a deadpan face. Open-ended straight draw. Promising.
He bets 100K. Andros matches it, still smirking.
— "Bold move, Mr. Kurgan. You always start this aggressive?"
— "Only when I've got something worth hiding. Which is most of the time."
Lexie's voice purrs in his ear:
— "Ooooh, slick. Keep the cowboy act going."
Turn: 6♠
Straight made. Flush draw added. Beautiful.
Dante bets 200K. Andros pauses, then raises—600K.
Dante narrows his eyes. Obvious bait, but he doesn't flinch.
— "Call."
River: A♠
Flush. High-end. Jackpot.
— "All-in," Dante grunts, shoving the pile in like a lumberjack clocking out.
Andros chuckles.
— "Gutsy. I've broken men for less, you know."
He calls. Dante flips his cards.
Straight flush. Nearly unbeatable.
Andros doesn't blink. He flips: Q♠ K♠. Higher flush.
Lexie hisses in his ear :
— "No way. That river? That hand? Statistically impossible."
Nash barks:
— "It's rigged! The dealer's linked to an adaptive algorithm. It feeds Andros exactly what he needs. This isn't luck—it's digital witchcraft."
Dante stands, slow and tight.
— "You cheat like you breathe."
— "I prefer calculated dominance. Around here, the house doesn't just win—it writes the rules."
Andros rises too. Two guards shift closer.
— "And now that your luck's run dry… we'll discuss what you're really doing here."
Lexie removes her smartglasses. Nash triggers an alert.
A dull explosion rumbles somewhere deep in the casino.
Dante cracks his knuckles, grinning.
— "You want to talk? Fine. But I've always preferred loud conversations."
The lights dimmed to a menacing red. Dante spun sharply, muscles tensed.
Lexie rose slowly.
— "We're surrounded..."
— "Yeah, I noticed," Dante growled, cracking his neck. "First time someone asks me to go all in and doesn't offer a beer after."
Around them, a dozen men in black suits and dark glasses leveled discreet but very real weapons.
The civilians were gone—either evacuated or never present in this private wing of the casino.
A voice buzzed in their earpieces.
— "Hey, this is bad. I almost took down the security grid, but it's military-grade encrypted. I'm trying to dig deeper, but..."
A pause.
— "...Shit. The logs are fire. And I just hit a second firewall. This casino… it's alive. It's an AI… or worse. A sentient system."
Lexie threw a smoke grenade without warning.
— "Move it, Dante!"
Dante grabbed the poker table with both hands and hurled it like a shield, knocking down two guards.
He charged forward with Lexie through gilded halls and velvet-draped corridors.
The walls displayed numbers, card suits—like the entire building was playing a game of its own.
They burst into a side chamber—only to be blocked again.
A large room, like a theater, with a central stage, a blood-red carpet, and dim, moody lighting.
At the center, seated with a glass of red wine in one hand and a deck of cards in the other, was a woman.
Dark-haired, ivory-skinned, eyes glowing red. A slit black dress hugged her figure;
Tattoos of card symbols spiraled along her arms.
An otherworldly aura radiated from her. She smiled—charming and terrifying all at once.
— "Good evening… Dante. Lexie, oh, and Nash.
You ruined my night… but you've got style. I respect that."
Dante growled. Lexie drew a blade, thin as a needle.
— "Who the hell are you?"
The woman rose with a graceful motion.
— "They call me Lady Baccarat. I run this little anthill… and I'm head of one of the Caledron branches.
Here, fate is decided—every dice roll, every drawn card."
She snapped her wrist—cards fly through the air.
— "And you've walked straight into my game. Literally."
Nash's panicked voice crackled in their ears:
— "Dante, she's not normal… She manipulates probability like a damn god. She's an Guardian of the Game. When she says 'bet,' she means souls, not chips..."
Lady Baccarat smiled wider.
— "I offer you a deal, half-blood. A game.
If you win, you walk out with the intel.
If you lose..."
She snapped her fingers.
One of Nash's team members was dragged out—bloody, cuffed, tossed like a pawn. Barely breathing.
— "...you join my collection of losers."
Dante clenched his fists. Lexie looked at him.
— "What now, Dante ?"
He looked at her. Then at the woman. The cards. The blood on the carpet. And his own anger—boiling.
— "We play."