Hot Hand, They Not Gonna Believe Me, But Check The Recording

Jazz music. Cards shuffling. Chips falling. The scream of a man who hit the Jackpot, followed by the desperate wail of another who lost it all.

"Your bet, Sir?"

Beneath the bright lights of Hag's Hex Casino, a man with auburn hair sat at a roulette table, playing with his measly pile of chips.

Then, he looked up at the dealer and decided to go all in on Red.

The dealer placed the ball. If the wheel was perfectly balanced, properly maintained, and fair, it had an equal chance of landing in any slot.

But this was not a perfect world.

The ball stopped at 5. The man with auburn hair won, collecting his payout nonchalantly.

He went all in again. Now, he watched the dealer's hand as the ball was thrown. It was disappointing. He tried to make the ball go Red by throwing it in Black, but there was no skill, no sleight of hand. He must be new.

The ball stopped at 12. He won.

He went all in again. His eyes moved to the roulette. He would have to wait a few rounds to tell if a magnet was involved, but there were several other ways to scam people. Mechanical changes to the smoothness of the track or the wheel's speed...

He did not spot any of that.

The ball stopped; he won. Again, and again, and again... each time betting on lower odds.

A crowd began to form around him. Some rooted for his success. Others begged for chips. A waitress placed a drink he didn't ask for next to his winnings.

However, he focused only on the two casino staff members watching his every move.

Ah... dammit.

He got too into it. Even if he stopped now, he could not cash out. Maybe if he lost everything, they'd leave him alone?

The luckiest man on the table bet everything on his unluckiest number.

Surrounded by the bated breaths of dozens of casino goers, the newbie dealer nervously placed the ball. As the wheel spun, the man who bet everything finally noticed a change in tempo.

The ball stopped at 4, and he sighed, leaning back on his seat while the crowd around him went wild.

"Hot damn!" A well-dressed man exclaimed to his left. "Seven in a row! That man must be blessed by the gods—oof!"

The two security guards muscled closer to the winner gathering his chips.

"Do you need help carrying your winnings to the cage, Sir?" one asked.

"No need. I'll Transport them."

The other shook his head. "No magic inside the establishment."

'What about the Speed Magic you used to rig the wheel?' he almost asked before remembering he wanted to make a good impression on these people. So much for that...

He briefly considered giving away all the chips to someone else before putting on a smile.

"Hah... lead the way."

But as they reached the cashier's cage...

"To prevent any accidents from happening with your money outside, we'll escort you through the backdoor. This way, please."

Yep. Just as expected.

If he gave away his chips, they would keep stalking him in the next games. If he left without cashing out, they'd get him outside. When someone never seen in a place like this won too much, the staff had to step in and make sure things were running smoothly. The choice to rig the game in his favor was to inspire others to gamble more in an attempt to win as hard as him.

Such was the beauty of a casino.

Inside the back room, the change in atmosphere was palpable. There was no longer a band, only a single man in the corner playing the piano. The excited, chattering gamblers were replaced by desperate wizards in debt, glaring at each other's cards.

Then, one of them was caught cheating.

"Argh!" the poor bastard screamed as a casino enforcer smashed her hand into the table, revealing a card about to be hidden inside her suit's sleeve.

The redhead stopped to watch, and the enforcers behind him grabbed him by the shoulders, roughly guiding him into a dark corner of the room.

Alone at a table, a heavily scarred man clasped his hands, looking him up and down with a heavy frown.

"So, Mr. Axel Starr... I'm sure you know why you're here."

"Yep."

"Since this is your first time here, the Hag's Hex Casino will let it slide... after proper compensation."

Axel reached into his pocket...

"Hold up."

And put his hand up, faking them out.

"We're not on the same page after all. I was trying to kill time before the Guildmaster got here... am I being hustled?" he asked rhetorically, holding his forehead in mock despair. "If so, you're doing a bad job."

"Don't play coy, Starr. Do you know the odds you just hit? If you're gonna cheat, don't make it so obvious."

"Can you explain how I cheated?"

"You did something to the wheel."

"But what exactly did I do to it? Do you even have any proof? Maybe I was rigging the slots for the old man a few meters behind me, and my payout was a karmic blessing—"

A magic circle lit that corner of the room aimed at the grinning gambler.

"Here's your proof. Now, you can pay with your money... or your blood."

Amused by the man's attempt at a threat, Axel reached into his pockets again, showing how empty they were.

"Sorry." He shrugged, not sorry in the slightest. "I spent all I had on chips. I was actually hoping I could talk to your boss about that..."

The scarred guard snarled, too angry to make the necessary connections in his mind and point out Axel's Transport Magic.

"And what makes ya think the boss wants to talk to you?"

"My—"

"What makes you think I don't, Duke?"

A dark haze filtered into the room. Gamblers and staff stopped whatever they were doing to watch the Guildmaster strut past them. She was a woman of undeniable presence and beauty, whose smile sent shivers down Axel's spine.

Then, she stopped by his side with a hand on her hip, and everyone seemed to break from their trance.

"... Madam Vera," the enforcer named Duke greeted, paling slightly. "Apologies. I got ahead of myself."

"No harm done," Vera said, "If only because I made it in time. I'll be taking him from here."

Standard negotiation tactic. Put him on the back foot with a hostile before sending in the bombshell Guildmaster willing to hear him out.

Vera squeezed his shoulder. "Why don't we go somewhere more private, hm?"

... but damn, it was working. Standard for a reason, he supposed.

A passage in the back room led to a stairway... which led to her office. Its walls were painted with a shade of violet that made the smoke spell surrounding them seem like another piece of furniture.

Axel's eyes swiveled around the room, reading the spines of grimoires decorating the shelves, raising an eyebrow at the magical charms hanging on a wall before finally stopping at an oil painting of the Guildmaster herself in all her glory.

"Very decadent," he commented, reclining on a velvet seat.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment...?" The real article wondered, making her way behind her desk, then bending over to fetch a bottle of whiskey from the bottommost drawer. She tilted it in his direction in a silent question.

"Yes," he answered to both. "Who doesn't like a bit of decadence every once in a while?"

"And that's why my business is booming," she said with a knowing smile, sitting opposite to him. "Now, what sort of trouble did you get into? Were you rigging the roulette? If you did, I promise I won't be mad. Just disappointed."

"As I said, I was only killing time until you arrived. But it must have been my lucky day because I won every round and got a private audience with you."

Although he only told the truth, he couldn't tell if the woman pouring them drinks believed him.

"Hm... your chips have been confiscated for now. Be more careful next time. A good gambler knows when to quit."

"I don't care for the chips."

"Then what do you care for?" she asked, capping the bottle.

Huh... she was surprisingly to the point. And he was so excited to make small talk, too... what a shame.

"I like what you have going on here," he began, leaning forward. "I think I'd like it even more if I got to be a part of it."

She took a sip of her drink, raising a delicate eyebrow. "Well, then... I won't say no to an S-Rank mage falling on my lap... but last I heard, you were involved with Queen's Gambit. Why defect to little old me?"

"Ah... me and the old Guildmaster had some disagreements," he said, waving a hand around lackadaisically. "And now there's no Guildmaster. Dark Guild shenanigans, you know how it is."

"I'm afraid I don't. You'll find my people are quite disciplined."

Vera crossed her arms under her bosom, and his eyes couldn't help but wander.

"Should I be worried about any... shenanigans if I become your new Master?"

"You..." he cleared his throat, meeting her now amused gaze. "Have nothing to worry about. Unless you also happen to be a Wendigo trying to steal my body."

"A Wendigo...?"

"Unbelievable, right? You work under someone for ten years, learn everything they have to teach, until one day they call you to their office to talk about passing the torch to a new Guildmaster... and it turns out they mean skin-walking you. It's enough to make a man cry, Vera."

"That's... quite the sordid tale," she commiserated while he downed his drink. "But while I have many business ventures, I can assure you lifespan theft is not one of them."

"Are you sure? I mean, the place is called Hag's Hex, but I'm not seeing any Hags. If you do some youth-draining magic on the side, I promise I won't be mad. Just disappointed."

She covered a noise with her hand, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Oh, Axel. I think this may be the start of a beautiful working relationship."

"So I'm in?"

"Not yet. Let's talk more about your previous work experience, shall we? I've heard Queen's Gambit was working on a new weapon..."

Oh.

She was nudging him into selling out his former comrades. Was this a test of his character? Or a naked interest in taking that tool for herself? As the dark-haired woman filled his glass again, Axel found he didn't care for the answer.