Judas Crown shouldn't have been in a casino.
At least, not on a Tuesday night, with thirty-six cents in his checking account, and definitely not when he had an 8 a.m. midterm on Arithmetic he hadn't studied for.
But that was exactly why he was here.
Six-foot-one, shaggy black hair falling into his blue eyes, and a face that could've been called handsome if he ever bothered putting effort into it, he walked past crowds of people laughing, holding each other, and enjoying the true Vegas experience. Tonight, though, he moved like someone whose soul asked for a long weekend and never returned.
He slouched on a cracked vinyl stool in a dim corner of Nevada's least reputable and most cheap casino The Lucky Loon.
"Maybe I'll skip." He muttered, holding his last coin close to an aged slot machine.
"Blow off steam. Yeah. Great job man. Feeling super relaxed." He pushed a lock of messy black hair out of his eyes, exhaled sharply, and fed his last coin into the slot with the same energy one uses to sign their own eviction notice.
"Out of money. Last one. Then home. Then failure. The holy trinity."
He grabbed the cold metal lever, shoulder sagging, posture halfway between bored and resigned. And then--
[WELCOME, GAMBLER]
There was no screen, just glowing golden letters carving themselves into Juda's vision.
[CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.]
[HAREM ROULETTE UNLOCKED.]
Another set text snapped into focus.
"What the—"
The entire casino froze. People mid-laugh, mid-argument, mid sip—locked in place like mannequins in a mall under the strobe lights. The slot machines around him stalled mid-spin, reels stuck on a blur of fruit and numbers. Only the purple light moved, swirling in an expanding ring from the machine he just spun.
Judas Crown. Twenty-Four. Professional Loser. Part-time gambler. He thought he'd seen every part of Vegas at this point.
He was wrong.
Symbols poured out of the broken machine—circles, runes, roulette icons, tiny flickering hearts and skulls. They whirled around him causing the hairs on his arms to stand on end.
No one turned. No one screamed. The couple beside him stayed stuck in their pose—the woman mid-eye-roll, her boyfriend frozen with a beer halfway to his mouth. The bartender continued polishing a glass. The blackjack dealer's hand remained suspended over a stack of chips.
"Hey!" Judas waved at the guy next to him. Nothing. Not even a flinch.
Okay. Either he was dead, or he'd finally gambled his brain into a psychotic break.
The interface didn't care.
[PLAYER: JUDAS CROWN]
[STATUS: BANKRUPT. SINGLE. LUCK: ABNORMALLY LOW.]
"…wow. Rude."
The words rewrote themselves.
[LUCK: QUALIFIED FOR INTERVENTION.]
"I'm too drunk for this," he complained, taking deep breaths.
[PLAYER LOCATION: LAS VEGAS - SECTOR 7]
[GAME DIFFICULTY: NORMAL]
"Normal?" Judas' head whirled around at the frozen casino. "This is normal to you?"
A new text slammed into his vision.
[SPIN OR DIE.]
His throat dried out instantly. "Wh-what?"'
The letters didn't change.
[SPIN OR DIE.]
He swallowed hard, his voice unsteady. "Die as in... actual die? Or metaphorical, 'you lost the game' die?"
[CLARIFICATION: PERMANENT CESSATION OF LIFE FUNCTIONS]
"Oh. Shit."
His heart hammered picking up alongside his breathing. Judas clenched his empty wallet like it could protect him from whatever the hell he was witnessing. This was insane. He should probably just walk away, stand up, leave the Lucky Loon, call a psychiatrist--
His legs wouldn't move.
Every muscle strained, tendons tight, but his feet would not leave the ground, planted like weights.
[ATTEMPT TO FLEE DETECTED.]
[PENALTY PHASE BEGINNING.]
Pain tore through his chest like ice water injected directly into his heart. Judas gasped, eyes bulging, the agony so intense he couldn't even scream. Then the sensation tightened, squeezing his ribs.
"Okay--okay!" he choked. "Okay, I get it! Spin, right? I SPIN!"
The pressure vanished instantly, his body doubling over with his lungs desperately clinging for air.
[CONSENT AKNOWLEGED.]
The purple light dropped swiftly into the ground before constructing itself into a slot machine. It was made of a purple metal, smooth, shiny, and intimidating. Gone were the three reels, the chrome panels, and the cherries and sevens.
Instead:
--A heart made of purple fire.
—A skull with hearts for eyes.
—A neon "W" with a halo and devil horns.
—Silhouettes of women with hips cocked and one leg raised.
Of course.
Of course, his death-game slot machine was horny.
[HAREM ROULETTE – ROUND 1]
[SPIN COST: FREE]
The lever twitched under his palm like a living thing.
[SPIN OR DIE.]
"…screw it," Judas whispered. "All in."
He yanked the lever.
The world un-paused just enough for sound. The machine shrieked with a pitch that made his teeth ache, reels spinning at impossible speed, symbols stretching into glowing ribbons. Purple light tightened around him like a vacuum.
Something inside his chest clicked.
Like a coin dropping into a slot.
The first reel stopped.
"W"
The second.
"W"
The third.
"W"
The casino trembled. Tiles pulsed. The scene of the frozen crowded glitched like a video game. Judas barely noticed.
[TRIPLE MATCH – JACKPOT.]
[CALCULATING WIN CONDITION…]
Metal groaned. A circle opened above the machine and purple fire exited the opening.
It rested on the seat beside him, forming a human outline. Legs crossed, hips settling, arms stretching. The woman had smooth skin, a black lace top, long dark hair, electric blue eyes and vibrant purple hair.
She blinked twice, then smiled.
"Finally," she said, voice silky. "You spun."