Beyond the Bloodline-Chapter 246: No. 3, The Gambler I

The Velvet Trillium Casino

Yiver City

Strarth 6V

December 5th

Year 2018

In the middle of the lavish, high-stakes casino, a man sat at a poker table with the kind of poised confidence that turned heads.

Under the chandelier’s soft, golden glow, he sat composed and at ease, dressed in a black silk shirt and a tieless suit. A long black overcoat hung over his shoulders, complemented by black gloves that encased his hands.

His features exuded a refined elegance that captivated those who observed him, while his slicked-back dark hair gleamed like polished onyx under the soft light. A pair of glasses rested on his nose, their tint concealing his heterochromatic eyes from view.

For a fleeting moment, he raised the glasses to rub his nose, revealing a glimpse of his eyes. The woman seated beside him caught sight of it—a mesmerizing combination of the noblest golden iris paired with a clear, piercing blue one. The sight was enough to leave her momentarily breathless.

A neat stack of chips lay in front of him, arranged in methodical towers that spoke to his meticulous nature.

He casually tapped his fingers on the felt of the table, an occasional lazy movement that belied the sharpness in his gaze whenever it landed on his opponents.

Each player around him wore a slightly different look—anxious, eager, calculating. His expression, in contrast, was placid and unreadable.

The dealer passed the cards out, and he received his hand without a hint of reaction, flipping his cards up just enough to glance at them with a faint, half-smile.

While the other players placed their bets, tossing chips into the centre, he barely looked as they did so, instead focusing on the cards and assessing the probabilities with a single glance.

He studied the small tells that rippled across his opponents’ faces and hands—the way one man’s fingers clenched a bit tighter around his chips when he was bluffing, or the slight twitch in the woman’s eyebrow as she peeked at her own hand.

When it was his turn to place his bet, he picked up a small stack of chips and set it down so calmly that it filled the others around the table with unease.

His opponents cast sidelong glances at him, trying to read past the impassive expression to no avail.

Finally, the dealer flipped the community cards.

He didn’t blink, studying them in a fraction of a second and comparing them against the mental map he had constructed of each player’s possible hand.

As the hand progressed, one player folded, shaking his head and muttering about bad luck. His fingers traced the edge of a chip, feeling its smooth, cold surface as he considered his next move.

He allowed a slight smirk to flash across his face, a carefully calibrated slip that kept his opponents guessing. Then, he slid another small stack of chips forward, an amount enough to signal confidence without overcommitting.

Across the table, another player raised, her brow furrowing in concentration. She tried to stare him down, but he simply met her gaze with the unflinching stare of a man who’d seen everything the universe could throw at him and survived.

His eyes held no fear or anxiety, just the detached curiosity of someone playing a game where he already knew the outcome. It was an unspoken challenge, a look that said; Show me what you’ve got.

The woman glanced at her cards again, hesitated, then pushed more chips in under his calm gaze.

He knew her type—a skilled player, but one who let her emotions trickle through when she met someone with greater skill. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

The man mentally tailed her tells, added them to his calculations, and leaned back with a relaxed confidence that only unnerved her more.

The dealer dealt the next card, and the tension around the table heightened.

He assessed the new information with a slight tilt of his head, then lifted his hand to place a more significant bet this time, pushing his chips forward without a single change in expression.

Confident in his victory, he shifted his attention away from the cards and onto the patrons milling around the casino.

This was a gathering place for the powerful and the dangerous, beings from galaxies apart who rarely ventured out of their domains. The casino was neutral ground, a place of exchange—not just of wealth but of secrets.

Tonight, he was hunting for information on a shadowy organization rumoured to wield influence across this sector of the universe, one that hid in plain sight while manipulating events from behind the curtain.

A few moments later, the man was one cashing out his considerable winnings from the poker table. He then strolled towards the main bar, a gleaming centrepiece where patrons sipped exotic concoctions from various worlds.

He ordered a drink, something obscure and potent that caught the attention of the bartender—a flugel woman with brown wings that shimmered faintly under the bar’s ambient lights. Her eyes scanned him with a mix of curiosity and amusement as she began crafting his drink with practised ease.

"You’ve got good taste. Most people just stick to the safe choices. But you? You look like someone who likes a little risk."

She spoke with a soft and inviting voice and the man smiled faintly.

"You could say that."

As the bartender slid his drink across the bar, her fingers lingered briefly on the edge of the glass.

"So, what do I call the man who walks in here like he owns the place and orders something that only the bold would choose?"

In response, the man lifted the glass, letting the golden liquid catch the light as he spoke.

"Richard."

And not just any Richard.

He was the first-born son of the greatest witch the Zanerth Universe had ever known, and likely ever would.

Of the Six Hybrids, the Myths of Estea, he bore the title of the ’Golden Magician’.

Richard Douglas Cathedral.

Hearing his name, the bartender leaned forward slightly, her gaze fixed on him as she spoke.

"Well, Richard, just remember—bold moves make for great stories, but sometimes they burn."

"Good thing I don’t mind the heat."

Richard responded then took a slow sip, and savouring the drink before meeting her eyes. The bartender chuckled softly, shaking her head and spoke.

"I’ll keep your tab open. Something tells me you’re the kind who’ll be back."

"Depends. Is there more worth knowing in a place like this?"

Richard slid his empty glass to her and she refilled it. But just as she was sliding it back, she leaned closer, resting her elbows on the bar.

"Depends on what you’re looking for. Though, someone like you..."

She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at the poker chips Richard was spinning on the back of his palm and spoke.

"If you’re not careful, you might catch the attention of a certain Syndicate that’s popular around these parts."

Hearing her, Richard raised a brow, his tone measured.

"And is that something I should be worried about?"

"Not if you stay on their good side. But getting there? That’s the tricky part."

She shrugged as she spoke, a playful smirk curling her lips.

Richard silently filed the name away. It was a breadcrumb, but a tantalizing one.

After making some small talk with the bartender, steering the conversation in the direction he wanted, he paid for his drink and left the bar.