"Hey, Scar, this the new guy?"
Scar handing Mora to Robert had attracted the attention of several people nearby, who all started asking questions.
"This is our new brother," Scar said magnanimously, nodding and putting on the act of a good senior, patting Robert on the shoulder. "Introduce yourself, then let these brothers show you the ropes."
Robert immediately smiled and nodded at the surrounding Treasure Hoarders. "Hello, brothers. I'm Scar's junior. You can call me Blade."
Scar had said not to use real names out here. Being a Treasure Hoarder was just a job; most didn't last until old age. If you weren't caught, you'd eventually retire with your money. Using your real name could give the Millelith a lead to track you down.
Hearing Robert's introduction, Scar's mouth twitched, but he didn't object.
The surrounding Treasure Hoarders laughed. "Scar's got a junior now! Not bad, hahaha!"
The burly man running the game also laughed and waved. "Come on, don't be a stranger. Play a few rounds, you'll fit right in."
Robert didn't like gambling. It was purely destructive. He was a man who stood firmly against gambling and drugs.
But, when in Rome... and more importantly, his Golden Finger seemed to require Mora to function.
So, Robert put on a smile and joined the crowd.
No one noticed the Mora in his hand continuously disappearing and reappearing.
The system panel could store and retrieve Mora. A handy little side feature of his Golden Finger.
"Alright, place your bets!" the burly dealer called out, scooping the Mora he'd won last round towards himself. "No more bets! Come on, bet quick!"
As he spoke, his gaze lingered on Robert for a moment. A new face always draws attention.
The other Treasure Hoarders started noisily urging Robert to place a bet, creating a lively atmosphere.
Robert wasn't in a hurry just yet.
A little piece of knowledge: If you don't know how to gamble at all, it's best not to sit at the table. If you absolutely have no choice, and it's a dealer-run game like this, bet on the side with fewer people.
He waited a while, until most around him had placed their bets. Then, Robert placed a single Mora on 'Tails'—the side with fewer bets.
The dealer glanced at Robert, a slight smile playing on his lips. "No more bets!"
He flicked the Mora coin with his finger. It spun through the air, landed, and he slapped his hand over it.
The noise erupted again.
"Heads!Heads! Heads!"
"Tails!Tails! Tails!"
The Treasure Hoarders who had bet shouted their choices. Robert also put on a fervent act, yelling for 'Tails'.
The dealer slowly lifted his hand.
The triquetra pattern was revealed. Heads again.
Robert had lost.
This time, however, many people had bet on heads, so the dealer actually lost money. He showed a flicker of pain but quickly paid out. He then smiled at Robert. "Not so lucky, are you, Blade?"
Robert smiled back. "It's gambling. You win some, you lose some. Besides, what child cries every day? What gambler loses every time? Let's go again, brother."
He perfectly acted like someone getting sucked into the thrill.
The dealer's smile widened. "Haha! Well said! No one loses every time. Wins and losses are all part of the game." He started calling for bets again.
Perhaps because it had landed on heads twice in a row, even more people bet on heads this round.
Robert waited until the last moment again and placed a single Mora on 'Tails'.
The dealer repeated the process. The result was heads once more.
The winners cheered. Some who had bet on tails started cursing.
"Blade, you're seriously unlucky, man."
"Yeah,yeah, wherever you bet, that side loses!"
They chattered away, blaming their loss on Robert.
Robert's eyes flicked over the dealer's face. Seeing him laughing and paying out, Robert began to understand.
He's using me to set up the game.
Luck was something most gamblers believed in. If there was one person who was incredibly unlucky, losing every bet, what would a gambler do? You didn't need to ask—you'd bet against him.
The dealer commenting on Robert's bad luck was deliberately creating a subconscious impression among the others. Then, by letting Robert lose a few more rounds, that impression would be reinforced. More and more people would start betting against Robert. As these people won more and more, they would bet heavier. And the dealer... just needed to clean them out in the final round.
Of course, some might walk away with their winnings in time, but gamblers who could control their greed were always a tiny minority.
The game continued.
Although Robert saw through the scheme, he kept up the act of being hooked, throwing his Mora on the minority side. This time, however, he didn't bet last; he bet first.
Sure enough, some Treasure Hoarders who had been thinking 'three heads in a row, it must be tails next' subconsciously avoided Robert's bet and chose heads instead.
As Robert predicted, the dealer tossed the coin, covered it, and revealed it—heads again.
"Dammit, Blade, your luck is just terrible. Don't bet on my side anymore!"
"What a jinx."
"You're a curse,man!"
Those who had bet on tails started cursing again.
Robert even reddened his eyes, playing the part perfectly. "I don't believe it! I've got two Mora left. All on tails!" He slapped the two Mora down on the tails side with force.
The dealer laughed heartily. "See this? This is a real gambler! 'What gambler loses every time?' Come on, place your bets!"
"Pah!Ironhead, you think we'll follow Blade's bet now? Bullshit!" one Treasure Hoarder cursed, slapping down a stack of Mora—about a dozen coins—on heads. "Bet against Blade, and you'll make a fortune!"
The surrounding Treasure Hoarders laughed, all throwing their Mora onto the heads side.
Robert glanced at the man who had spoken. He had a feeling this guy was a plant. As everyone knew, the simpler the street gambling game, the more likely it was to have shills. In the worst cases, out of ten people playing, nine might be plants, all there to fleece the one sucker. It might not be that bad here, but plants definitely existed.
But Robert said nothing, continuing to yell hoarsely for the dealer to continue.
Unsurprisingly, Robert... lost again.
The five Mora Scar had given him were gone.
Robert put on a devastated expression.
The dealer smiled encouragingly. "Blade, don't be discouraged. You win some, you lose some. Lose a little, win it back."
Robert gave a bitter smile. "Ironhead, I'm out of Mora." He sighed, acting like he was cursing his bad luck.
Ironhead, the dealer, waved a dismissive hand. "So what? I'll front you some." He scooped a handful of Mora from the money box beside him and tossed it to Robert. "You're one of us now. You can pay me back after we crack that ruin down below." He paused, then added teasingly, "Besides, maybe your luck will turn now."
His joking tone made the other Treasure Hoarders laugh heartily. With Robert's luck losing four rounds straight, they didn't believe he could turn it around.
Robert's face flushed red, as if embarrassed by the teasing. He instinctively looked towards Scar. It was a subconscious move—when people feel helpless, they look to whoever they perceive as being in charge. This small action made it seem like Robert was deferring to Scar.
Sure enough, seeing Robert's glance, Scar smiled and nodded. "It's all in fun, no problem. Go ahead and play." His goal was to get Robert hooked on gambling, to create a weakness. He naturally wouldn't stop it.
Hearing Scar's permission, Robert immediately nodded. "Then thank you, Ironhead!" He took out two Mora and placed them on heads. "This round, I bet on heads! I don't believe it!"
If he was going to lose, he couldn't always bet on tails. The people around him weren't complete fools.
The dealer was using him to set up the game, and Robert would play along. Back in his previous life, when his boss took him to play mahjong with some client managers, Robert could lose over a hundred thousand in one night. He might not like these tricks, but he was far from ignorant. Even playing dice games for drinks in a KTV, he could ensure he drank the most, keeping the boss thoroughly entertained.