Hearing that, every casino worker and veteran gambler in the joint was laughing inside.
Before any gamble starts, everyone fantasizes Lady Luck's gonna be their best friend. Hell, when these suckers first walked into a casino, they were just as cocky as Aus—probably won their first few hands too.
Once you get a taste of easy money that comes with such a rush, regular work feels like watching paint dry. Even knowing the house always wins, everyone thinks they're gonna be that one lucky bastard who beats the odds.
To them, Aus was just another mark with more money than brains. Rich boy or not, they figured he'd blow his whole fortune soon enough.
After his opponent settled in, the first hand began.
Five cards each. Aus didn't even blink—just flipped one at random.
Six.
Right on cue, the house played a pathetic four to let the fresh meat taste victory.
100,000 Belly → 200,000 Belly.
"Congratulations, sir! Lady Luck's definitely smiling on you tonight."
A knockout waitress in barely-there clothes purred beside him, swaying her hips while fork-feeding him fruit. Classic move to get the blood pumping and the brain fuzzing.
Aus flashed that million-dollar grin.
"Yeah, luck's always been my thing."
He casually whipped out what looked like several million Belly and stuffed the whole wad straight down the waitress's cleavage, laughing like he didn't have a care in the world.
Seeing Aus throw money around like confetti, she practically glowed with joy and cranked the sweet talk up to eleven.
The casino manager watched this display with dollar signs in his eyes, whispering to a lackey:
"Set him up at the high-roller tables next. Feed him a few wins, then bleed him dry!"
His subordinate nodded and scurried off while the manager's grin turned predatory.
Once this sucker owed them serious money, didn't matter if he was royalty—he'd never escape Rain Dinners' clutches.
Soon enough, Aus was hollering for more action:
"Come on, speed it up! Had my fortune read today—I'm on the hottest streak of my life!"
"Can't lose if I tried!"
"Right away, sir. Next game coming up."
Laugh now, asshole. You'll be crying soon enough.
The next few rounds played out exactly the same. Sometimes eight beat one, sometimes five beat four. Big gap or small, Aus kept raking it in.
Started with 100,000 Belly, and in no time he was sitting on 496 million!
A fucking fortune!
Only reason the manager was letting the stakes climb this high was because Aus looked loaded. The next double-or-nothing round would be the kill shot.
If Aus lost, he wouldn't just cough up everything he'd won—he'd owe them another 400 million on top.
They slipped in their rigged cards and dealt five to each player. The boss-looking guy across from Aus smugly flipped his second card from the right:
Jack!
Eleven points!
Every spectator held their breath. They loved watching people lose, but they loved impossible comebacks even more.
Like they say—if Russian roulette's got one bullet, everyone wants you dead. But load five bullets? Everyone's rooting for you to live.
Aus didn't sweat it like the crowd. Cool as ice, he sat there calm as death.
Behind his shades, a flash of crimson light flickered.
"Your future? Yeah, you're fucked."
Then Aus reached out and slowly flipped the middle card.
King!
Thirteen points!
The highest card in the damn deck!
"What the hell?!"
"We only planted one high card as backup in case someone wanted to check the deck, and we put it in the spot psychology says nobody picks! How'd he nail it?"
Cold sweat dripped down the manager's face, his eye twitching like crazy.
496 million Belly, times four!
Over 1.6 billion?!
They'd have to sell his entire bloodline and still come up short!
Just as he was about to order his boys to lock down the casino and force Aus to keep playing, footsteps echoed from upstairs.
Oh shit.
The manager started shaking, trying to explain: "Boss, just give me one more chance—"
"Shut your mouth."
Sand drifted down from the upper level, swirling into a whirlwind that took shape right in front of the trembling manager.
A woman who commanded respect just by breathing.
Cigar clenched between her teeth, born to rule, radiating that "I'm better than you and we both know it" energy. The scar across her face didn't hurt her looks—it made her look like she'd eat your soul for breakfast.
Sleek black hair fell past her shoulders, black dress under a black coat that screamed power.
Her voice dripped with disgust: "Getting played like a fiddle and you can't even see it. How much more money you planning to piss away?"
"I—"
The manager tried to make excuses, but one look at Crocodile's face and his voice died in his throat.
Done wasting time on useless help, Crocodile strutted over to Aus with that predatory grace.
Her expression was stone-cold serious:
"Do me a favor—take the money and walk. I give you my word on Rain Dinners' reputation: no hard feelings, no payback."
Everyone watching figured the pirate queen was about to start throwing hands.
Instead...
She backed down?
"What? You guys kick out paying customers now? Or just can't cover your bets?"
Aus wasn't here for pocket change—not even 1.6 billion of it. He had bigger fish to fry, and Crocodile's offer wasn't gonna cut it.
Money wasn't the point.
He had one target, and she was standing right in front of him.
Crocodile's face went ugly with barely controlled rage. She was pissed, but she wasn't that hothead kid who used to pick fights she couldn't win anymore.
After Whitebeard crushed her dreams, she learned exactly how terrifying the real monsters of this world could be. And she was way too smart not to know who she was dealing with.
Could she fight him? Sure.
Could she win? Hell no.
Right now she just wanted to change her damn gender, find that Ancient Weapon, and build a country where she'd never have to bow to anyone again.
So she swallowed her pride.
But that didn't mean she was out of moves.
"Fine. You want to play games? I'll play with you.
Legendary pirate. King of an era.
'Black Gun' Aus."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
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