Chapter 9

Chapter 9
## Chapter 9

“Did the third child of the Valdek bloodline actually step into our den?”

“He did, Boss.”

“Pwahaha! That ‘Deer Prince’ is finally getting his hands dirty with the cards!”

Hugo let out a boisterous roar of laughter following his minion’s update.

High-born patrons weren’t exactly a rarity, but this wasn’t some mere knight—this was the offspring of a Grand Duke.

“I’ll wager he hauled a heavy purse in with him.”

“The second he stepped through the doors, he brandished his coin bag. It seemed he was set on making a true night of it.”

“I’d be surprised if he’s ever gripped a hand of cards correctly in his life. He’s got grand ambitions, I’ll give him that much.”

Hugo clicked his tongue, a mocking grin tugging at his mouth.

This was precisely why he had no stomach for noble brats. They spent their lives getting their way in their private quarters, so they presumed the rest of the world would bow to their whims just as effortlessly.

It would be entertaining to let him face the brutal truth of reality, but squeezing out the peak profit demanded a bit of composure.

“Just run a minor swindle on him for today and move him along. You’re smart enough not to bleed him dry on day one, right?”

“Naturally, Boss. I’ll ensure he heads home with a little walking around money left.”

“Make sure to flavor the pot correctly. He needs to clinch it by a hair so he credits his own talent.”

“Of course. I’ll ensure the act is top-tier.”

To lure someone into the snare of the tables, you had to grant them a sampling of the rush that comes with winning.

The strategy was to drop a few rounds to him at first, pulling him into the quagmire of obsession. After a string of victories, he’d grow prideful, and then they would begin to claw back the winnings, poking at his ego.

After roughly a month of this back-and-forth, he’d be so submerged he couldn’t break free even if the urge struck him.

“It won’t take much time for the ‘Deer Prince’ to devolve into a ‘Mangy Mutt.’ The Grand Duke must be losing sleep. To think a sixteen-year-old heir would go down this path.”

Hugo snickered darkly, rubbing his jaw.

Since an unforeseen card had tumbled into his grasp, he was weighing the best way to play it.

The Grand Duke had already essentially washed his hands of his third son. If they burdened him with a substantial mountain of gambling debt, the youth would follow any command out of pure terror of his father’s wrath.

‘If I navigate this correctly, I won’t just reclaim my gold—I’ll reap a fortune. I was just beginning to require a mole within the Grand Ducal House.’

But as he’d noted, if he became too rapacious, the target would catch a scent of danger and flee. It was vital to move slowly and gradually pull him into the muck. About a season of meticulous effort should do the trick.

The only remaining puzzle was when to reveal this winning hand.

“B-Boss.”

Hugo scowled at the sound of his subordinate’s voice slicing through his thoughts.

“It’s been a mere few hours since your last check-in. Why have you crawled back already?”

“Regarding that… the Deer Prince I spoke of…”

“What about him? Is there some hitch?”

“It’s far beyond a hitch. The Deer Prince is currently stripping the entire house bare.”

“What?”

Hugo cocked his head, questioning if his ears had failed him.

The lackey verified the news with a look of pure distress.

“That young lord’s card skills are the real deal. Forget running a scam—our seasoned sharks can’t take a hand even when they’re giving it everything they’ve got. What’s the move?”

“…!”

—

The card player felt as though a spirit had taken hold of him.

How could the tides turn like this? No, was such a thing even achievable in the first place?

Gripping onto his slipping composure, the player clenched his teeth and spoke.

“I-It’s a Crimson Rose.”

“I happen to hold a Crimson Rose as well.”

In contrast to the shaking gambler, Lucian set his cards down with fluid grace. His demeanor was entirely at ease, as if the concept of defeat hadn’t even entered his mind.

“The pot is mine. Our hands are identical, but my card values are a touch higher.”

“….”

At those words, the player squeezed his lids shut.

This marked the fifth occasion Lucian had produced the exact same hand as him. And every single time, he secured the win by a razor-thin margin in the numbers.

It would be one thing to simply play a superior hand, but to insult his rival by mirroring the hand every time? Even after decades of drifting through betting halls, he had never witnessed anything of the sort.

“I… I surrender.”

“You’re folding already? The fun was just getting started.”

Lucian clicked his tongue and gathered the markers. The pile of chips, already staggering, grew even taller.

The other players standing nearby gulped at the sight of the anomaly.

“Good heavens, look at that haul.”

“What else would you expect? Those are all the markers that young lord took. I didn’t think they could be piled that high.”

“What sort of sorcery is he employing? Is it just quick fingers?”

“I was staring right at his hands from two feet away and I didn’t catch a thing.”

“They call him the Deer Prince, but he’s a pure predator.”

Eric, the supervisor of the den, glared at the whispers of the onlookers. What a humiliation to be shamed like this by an unseasoned noble.

Gnashing his teeth, Eric seized the dejected gambler by the shirt and hauled him into a dark spot.

“You mindless fool! What do you mean, ‘I surrender’? Get back to the table and reclaim what you handed over!”

“It’s a lost cause. That young lord is on a different plane than me. What do you expect me to do?”

“Are you looking for a grave? Do you think your hands will stay on your wrists if you walk away now?”

“You can lop off my arms for all I care. I’d rather lose my limbs now than lose more and have my head taken later.”

No matter the level of intimidation, the gambler stayed limp, driving Eric to the brink of insanity.

He had sent word to Hugo, but given the scale of the loss, he wouldn’t be able to dodge the blame either. He had to claw back at least a portion of the drained funds before Hugo showed up.

“Pathetic coward.”

“B-Boss!”

However, Hugo’s entrance was more rapid than Eric had anticipated.

Hugo clicked his tongue as he eyed the mountain of chips, which loomed even larger than the reports suggested.

“Splendid work. I leave you in charge of the shop and this is the result? Are you aiming to sink the syndicate?”

“Boss, that wasn’t the intent…”

“Quiet down and vanish. I was the fool for placing faith in you.”

At the freezing tone, Eric shut his eyes and retreated. Still, it was a small mercy that Hugo had arrived before the losses mounted further. If it were Hugo, he would be capable of making that boy cough up every coin he’d devoured, regardless of what deceptions he utilized.

—

Hans stared in a daze, glancing between the mountain of chips and Lucian.

Rather than being plucked, Lucian had completely plucked the house. He had no clue his young master possessed such a gift.

“Young Master, did you actually use sorcery?”

“Sorcery? No. It’s merely a matter of technique.”

“And where exactly did you pick up gambling techniques?”

“Oh, here and there. It just happened.”

Lucian waved off Hans’s inquiry while toyed with the deck.

In reality, it was a craft he had acquired in his former life after rescuing a one-armed knight. Despite the appearance of a veteran soldier, the knight had been a timid soul, but his prowess at the table was legendary.

However, he had been too convinced of his own genius and entered a high-stakes match with elite nobility, only to be found out and have his limb taken. He usually told people he lost it in a clash with a grand rival, so Lucian had been quite stunned when the man finally confessed the truth.

‘Still, he was a decent sort. All for the sake of the game, though.’

“Young Master, might I have a moment of your attention?”

A deep voice hit Lucian’s ears as he wore a pained smile.

Shifting his gaze, he saw a burly man who stood a full head taller than the rest. Lucian grinned at the sight of the prominent scar trailing from the man’s eye to below his lip.

‘Finally, he’s arrived.’

Black Shark Hugo.

He began as a street-level thug but would eventually become the figure who commanded the criminal world of five territories. When the era of turmoil arrived, he would proclaim himself a Baron and cement his place as a major power player.

Due to his low beginnings, he dealt with constant scorn, but he was equally noted for his uncanny brilliance. The fact that he held onto his status until the day Lucian passed away proved the stories weren’t empty.

Hugo looked at the tower of chips for a beat, his scar twitching, before leaning in to murmur to Lucian.

“You seem to possess remarkable talent. Why squander your time on a petty game like this? Why not move to a more serious table?”

“A more serious table?”

“We maintain a private floor above for our VIPs. Up there, the sum of gold moving in a single hand matches all the chips you’ve collected here.”

“Oho.”

Lucian’s eyes glinted with a mask of curiosity.

Seeing that look, Hugo smirked, then quickly tossed his head with an expression of feigned doubt.

“Ah… my regrets. On second thought, that won’t do.”

“What? You entice me and then suddenly pivot?”

“The stakes are far higher on the upper floor, but the talent of the players is also on a different level. This house exists for the pleasure of our guests, so it’s best not to do anything that might sour the mood.”

“You suspect I’ll fail? Me, Lucian Valdek? You say that even after viewing this pile of markers!”

“I didn’t mean to imply that. My apologies if you took it the wrong way.”

“Arrogant peasant! Lead the way this second! I don’t care if they’re VIPs or what, I’ll show them what I’m made of!”

As Lucian rose, acting the part of the slighted noble, Hugo nodded with a look of feigned concern.

“If that is the Young Master’s wish, I have no alternative. However, please be clear that we cannot offer compensation for any losses.”

“Do you take me for a beggar who would plead for a refund? Stop fretting over trivialities and just show me the way!”

“My humble apologies. I will escort you at once, so please settle your temper.”

Hugo turned his back, acting shaken. But he couldn’t suppress the grin that ghosted across his lips for a fraction of a second.

Lucian laughed to himself.

‘Even the Black Shark Hugo was just a novice in his younger years.’

In other words, he was still a piece Lucian could move.

Once more, Lucian realized the weight of having returned to his past. No matter how much future power someone held, if they were still an unblossomed bud, he could nurture them or snap them as he saw fit.

The first trial would be the Black Shark standing right in front of him.

—

Leaving Hans to wait in the lobby, Lucian climbed to the third level.

It was clearly set aside for exclusive guests, furnished with far more extravagance than the ground floor.

As he entered the chamber, three individuals already in the middle of a match blinked at his appearance.

“What’s this? A new face?”

“He looks far too young for this.”

“Hugo, where did you dig up this child?”

“Mind your tongues. This is Young Master Lucian, the third son of Grand Duke Valdek.”

“Gasp! My deepest apologies…!”

At Hugo’s introduction, the others scrambled to their feet and bowed low. They proceeded to announce themselves. Two were successors to massive trading guilds, and the other was the second-born of a Viscount.

Lucian scoffed internally as he listened to their claims.

‘What absolute rubbish. Even for a hasty trap, this is poorly built.’

This region wasn’t that expansive in terms of its nightlife, unlike the glittering capital. The successor of a merchant guild or the second son of a Viscount would seek out somewhere much more high-end to play.

It was glaringly obvious all three were Hugo’s men in costume. They likely didn’t bother with a deep backstory because they viewed Lucian as a dull noble who knew nothing of the world.

Lucian took the open seat, pretending to be hoodwinked.

“Well, since we have a fresh guest, let’s begin a new round.”

“I’ll serve as the dealer as per usual. But before that…”

Hugo smirked and snapped the cards with his fingers. As he did, a subtle wisp of mana dissolved into the air.

“Let’s ensure there’s no foul play. A game only carries joy when it’s fair and honest, wouldn’t you agree?”

‘As I suspected, he caught on.’

The reason Lucian had been sweeping the floor downstairs was through cheating with mana. It was a method that involved imprinting slightly unique traces of mana on every card and pairing it with swift movements.

Against commoners who couldn’t perceive mana, it was effectively godhood, but it was useless against a person who could track mana through active flow.

Lucian already understood this, but he widened his eyes, purposefully acting caught off guard.

“Then, let the games begin! Dealing the cards!”

Hugo, pleased with Lucian’s shock, started the match.

Inevitably, the outcome was a steady rain of losses. Without his deceptions, there was no path to victory against career gamblers. It took less than half an hour for Lucian to bleed away every chip he had secured downstairs.

“Curses! This makes no sense! One more hand!”

“Young Master, your markers have vanished.”

“I heard that if you’ve run dry, you can secure credit.”

When Lucian asked while darting his eyes around with feigned nerves, Hugo smirked. These were the exact words he had been fishing for.

“Certainly you can. How much would you like to take on?”

“The limit! Every coin you’re willing to lend!”

“Hahaha! You certainly don’t lack for nerve! Here you are!”

What a brainless young master.

The plot was unfolding so flawlessly that Hugo could barely keep his laughter in check. The boy likely believed he could claw it all back in a single stroke, but all he would be left with was a debt that a noble’s stipend could never hope to cover.

With that thought, Hugo distributed the cards again.

When it finally came time to show the final hand, Lucian showed significant hesitation.

“Young Master, what is the delay? Please show your cards.”

“No, it’s just… the hand isn’t particularly strong…”

“Strong or weak, you must reveal the cards for the match to proceed. Surely you aren’t contemplating pretending this round never occurred?”

“Do you truly need to see it?”

“If the Young Master prefers to end it as a forfeit, that is acceptable to me.”

“Sigh! I suppose there’s no avoiding it. Here is my hand.”

At Hugo’s pressure, Lucian sighed and spread his cards. It was a total failure, not even matching a pair. Just as Hugo was preparing to explode into laughter once more—

“By the way, how is your narcotics trade faring? I heard you’ve been putting in long hours in the cellar lately. When do you intend to launch the full-scale distribution?”

“…Pardon?”

Hugo blinked at the nonchalant tone, as if Lucian were asking about the weather.

Gazing at the paralyzed Hugo, Lucian spoke with an airy lightness.

“You were hired by the House of Roglan, weren’t you? They tasked you with poisoning our territory with drug sales. That Marquis really is small-minded. To think a man of his standing would stoop to such filthy tactics.”

“…!”

“Regardless, you’re quite a talent yourself, building a production facility in the bordering territory with that massive grant they handed you. If word gets out, every family in this province will hunt you down and tear you apart. Hahaha!”

While Lucian’s laughter echoed through the room, the four men, Hugo included, turned to stone.

The moment the prey they thought they had cornered transformed into a reaper had finally arrived.