Beyond the Bloodline-Chapter 247: No. 3, The Gambler II

Richard’s attention shifted to a group seated nearby—a cluster of aristocratic figures cloaked in midnight-blue robes, their insignia marked with symbols he recognized to come from another star system.

They whispered among themselves, occasionally casting cautious glances around the room.

Making them his next target, he approached unhurriedly, offering a nod as he reached their table and spoke in a tone that balanced friendliness with a hint of intrigue.

"Mind if I join you? It’s rare to see such distinguished company here."

One of the robed figures, a man with sharp features and an air of authority, eyed him warily.

"And who might you be?"

"Just someone who appreciates the finer things. I couldn’t help but notice your conversation—it sounded far more interesting than the usual casino chatter."

Ruchard responded smoothly, imitating a greeting their group was known to have. Seeing his action, the group exchanged glances, their initial hesitation softening as they recognized his subtle knowledge of their customs.

The conversation gradually shifted, touching on topics of politics, influence, and trade among the stars. Richard played his part flawlessly, allowing them to lead while occasionally steering the subject toward the Syndicate without naming it outright.

"You seem well-informed."

One of the figures noted, their tone curious but guarded and Richard responded with a faint smile.

"I keep my ears open. You never know what opportunities might present themselves."

The group relaxed slightly, the air of suspicion giving way to guarded interest. Eventually, one of those in the group finally dropped a valuable detail.

"Rumours say that even they answer to something darker. A different power hidden in shadows, influencing their every move... They’re just a front."

Richard nodded slowly, as if contemplating an old legend rather than the implications of a hidden power structure.

He thanked them, offering an anecdote of his own about another hidden cabal from a galaxy he’d once explored, and they laughed.

Richard slipped away before they could press him for further details, already scanning the casino floor for his next target.

The next conversation was with a reptilian emissary seated at a nearby table, meticulously arranging tiles in a game of Mahjong.

As Richard approached and took a seat across from him, the emissary’s slit-pupiled eyes flicked up with cautious interest. Speaking in a tone of casual politeness, Richard broached the topic of the Syndicate’s influence, hinting that he might have crossed paths with their operatives before.

Hearing this, the emissary’s forked tongue slipped out, tasting the air with skepticism. But Richard remained calm, letting the silence draw out until, at last, the emissary muttered.

"They don’t call it the Veiled Dominion for nothing. They move in ways unseen, even by those with eyes in every corner of the galaxy. But I’ve heard whispers they frequent the area near the Astraxis Nebula."

The Astraxis Nebula. Richard filed the detail away, offering the emissary a rare titbit of information in exchange—just enough to keep him interested, just enough to let the reptilian creature feel he’d come away with something valuable.

The reptilian emissary relaxed, and Richard excused himself, moving on to his next targets, a pair of bounty hunters with faces half-obscured by glowing metallic masks.

They were notorious for targeting criminals in these parts and recently, word had gotten around that they hit one of those hiding under Syndicate protection, something Richard gently prodded at with a casual remark.

They hesitated at first, but the mention of Syndicate-run safe houses seemed to pique their interest.

"Safe houses." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

One of them scoffed, his voice hollow and mechanical beneath the mask.

"More like traps. I’ve seen their handiwork—their operatives lure outsiders in, but rarely do any of them get out. Those guys use them to test loyalty and eliminate threats."

"And where do these safe houses lead?"

Richard leaned in, acting the part of the curious bystander and the other bounty hunter, amused, tapped his mask.

"We once tracked one to an old mining outpost near Nebara Prime. Uninhabited, but... we found traces of something strange there, markings we couldn’t translate. Not even our systems recognized them. Only one thing’s certain—they’re tied to their main headquarters. Somewhere they don’t want outsiders to find."

The information was weaving a map in Richard’s mind, one pointing straight toward a central hub. He knew he was close now, but there was still a missing piece.

At a card table nearby, Richard spotted an aged man draped in cloths that shimmered like stardust, watching the game with far too much intensity.

He was the type who observed more than he played, the type whose knowledge ran deep. Richard sat across from him, placing a small stack of chips on the table.

The old man regarded him for a moment, his face hidden behind a wide-brimmed hat, but a knowing glint betrayed him. After a few rounds, Richard casually mentioned an organization working from the shadows.

"You’ve heard of them, haven’t you? The ones beyond the Syndicate?"

Richard asked, voice barely above a whisper and the old man’s eyes narrowed.

"You don’t say things like that aloud, young man."

Though Richard had lived more than a million of his lifetimes, he didn’t correct the old man and let him continue.

"They are the arm, but not the head. You seek a certain Council. Like the one of the time when the moon passes over the sun."

’Passes over the sun? So, it’s the Eclipse Council they’re called?’

As Richard deconstructed the man’s words internally, the man continued his small speech.

"They orchestrate events, shroud themselves even from the galaxies they rule. If you’re looking for their lair... it’s not on any map."

Richard leaned forward, giving him a nod of encouragement, sensing the man had one last detail to offer.

"Recently people have been making a buzz about some Ember Vault in a rogue planet around the edge of Astraxis."

With that, the old man fell silent, as if he had already said too much.

Astraxis came up again, piquing Richard’s interest. He made a mental note to check the place out when time allowed.

Leaning back in his chair, he continued to play a few more rounds, placing casual bets that yielded steady wins—small victories punctuated by larger ones. Before long, even the dealer started throwing him uneasy glances.

Finally, Richard gathered his winnings with a satisfied smile, reclining in his seat as an amused smile played on his lips.

"Seems I’ve pressed my luck enough for one night. Any more wins, and I might risk falling out of favour with the management around here."

Of course, even if they didn’t like it, there wasn’t much they could do about it—not against him. But for now, discretion was his goal.

That’s why he wore recognition inhibition glasses, a clever device that distorted his features just enough to thwart anyone knowledgeable from making connections to his true identity.

As he spoke, Richard’s gaze flicked to the gallery overlooking the casino floor, where a cluster of figures lingered in the shadows, their eyes subtly tracking his movements. The faintest shift in their attention didn’t escape him.

He chuckled softly, scooping up his chips with an air of nonchalance, and strolled toward the cash-out. Offering a polite nod to the other patrons, he left behind a trail of curiosity and unease in their expressions.

Behind him, the old man—the one who’d whispered about the Eclipse Council—exchanged a brief, knowing glance with a nearby figure before returning to his game, his demeanour as unruffled as if nothing had happened.