"Buy and leave, buy and leave!!"
A dealer at the gambling table shouted hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the chaos of the casino. Gamblers feverishly threw their money into the game, their eyes filled with either greed or desperation.
This particular game was similar to the "Guess the Size" dice game from Mizuki Ryosuke's past life. The rules were simple: two six-sided dice were rolled in a covered pot. If the sum of the dice was greater than six, it was considered "big." If six or less, it was "small."
The moment all bets were placed, the dealer smirked, prepared to unveil the results. But just before he could open the dice pot, a large-denomination gold ticket floated onto the "small" betting area.
The sight of this extravagant wager caused a visible reaction. The dealer's pupils contracted sharply, as did those of the surrounding gamblers. The single bet was larger than the sum of all other bets at the table.
Beads of sweat formed on the dealer's forehead. He knew the result already—this round's total was "small." With no time to tamper with the dice, he had no choice but to reveal the outcome.
"Small!"
"It's small!!!"
Excited screams erupted as the gamblers who had bet correctly cheered, their voices nearly shaking the roof.
The dealer gritted his teeth and reluctantly handed over the winnings, his fingers trembling as he counted out the stacks of cash. However, before the cheers could fully subside, another massive gold ticket fluttered onto the "small" spot.
This time, the dealer was prepared. He subtly pressed a hidden switch in his pocket, activating a mechanism that manipulated the dice's outcome.
"Buy and leave, buy and leave!" he called out confidently, shaking the dice pot once more.
When he revealed the dice, his forced smile turned into an expression of pure horror.
"Small…? Again?!"
The exact same result.
The cheers from the winners were deafening, and the dealer's stomach twisted into knots. He had rigged the dice to favor "big," yet the roll had still landed on "small."
By now, the entire table had noticed something unusual. The gamblers who were losing began to shift their attention toward the quiet young man who had placed the bet. He was unremarkable in appearance, his expression completely indifferent to the chaos around him.
The dealer's hands shook as he rolled again. Once more, the outcome was "small." No matter how he manipulated the dice, the same result appeared.
A dark realization settled over the dealer—he had encountered a true master.
The other gamblers noticed the pattern and began following the young man's lead, placing all their bets on "small." The dealer's lips turned pale.
Then, the young man did something different. He calmly pushed all his previous winnings onto the "big" bet.
The gamblers hesitated but, intoxicated by their earlier success, followed his lead and wagered everything on "big."
The dealer, sensing an opportunity, quickly manipulated the dice once more to ensure the outcome was "small."
Yet, when the dice pot was opened, the dealer's face shifted from terror to elation—this time, the total was "seven," falling into the "big" category.
His victory meant devastation for the gamblers.
Cries of despair rang out. Many who had risked everything cursed their luck. Their eyes, once filled with admiration for the mysterious bettor, now gleamed with resentment.
One particularly desperate gambler, eyes flickering with greed, suddenly had a realization.
If this young man could casually throw down such massive bets, then he must be carrying an even greater fortune on him.
Without hesitation, the man lunged forward, his intent clear—to rob the young bettor.
But before he could act, a massive hand shot out like an iron vice, seizing his throat.
The attacker's eyes bulged as he choked, his entire body convulsing. He clawed at the fingers wrapped around his neck, but they wouldn't budge. It was as if he had been caught in a death grip by an unmovable force.
Only then did the other gamblers realize—behind the young man stood a tall, hooded figure concealed beneath a black robe.
The sheer strength in that grip made the surrounding gamblers reconsider their actions. They might have been desperate, but they weren't suicidal.
A moment later, a new figure entered the scene.
"Sir, please have your man release this poor fellow."
A voice, steady and composed, interrupted the moment.
The gamblers turned toward the speaker—a ninja dressed in a green flak jacket, his headband bearing the unmistakable mark of Amegakure.
Mizuki Ryosuke's gaze landed on the man, his interest piqued. He hadn't expected an official Rain Shinobi to openly reveal his affiliation in a den of corruption.
Of course, neither Ryosuke nor Hoshigaki Kisame appeared as themselves. Both had transformed their appearances using the Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Technique), ensuring that they were unrecognizable.
Ryosuke had deliberately thrown away his winnings in the final round, knowing it would lure out someone with authority.
There was no need to antagonize the casino unnecessarily—his goal was far greater than a few gambling profits.
The more corrupt Rain Shinobi was, the easier it would be for him to achieve his objective.
Hoshigaki Kisame finally released his grip, allowing the gambler to collapse onto the ground, gasping for air. His near-death experience had left him half-conscious, but no one spared him a glance.
Instead, all eyes remained fixed on the Rain Shinobi, who gestured respectfully toward Ryosuke.
"Please, come with me."
Ryosuke's lips curled into a faint smile.
Without hesitation, he followed the Rain Shinobi deeper into the casino, with Hoshigaki Kisame trailing behind.
As their figures disappeared, the crowd of gamblers whispered among themselves in hushed tones.
Then, as if nothing had happened, they returned to their games, their greed outweighing any lingering curiosity.
The chaos of the casino resumed—just as corrupt, just as ruthless.
Because in this place, there was no justice at all.
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