Chapter 38: The Result
A few moments later, Mia returned, carrying three exquisite metal cases. Their surfaces were engraved with intricate, vine-like patterns that glinted under the lights, looking like coiled vipers.
"Four hundred and sixty million Jenny in chips. That's just over one hundred and fifty-three million per case. Please, feel free to count," Mia said, handing them over, her charming eyes flashing with an unmissable, shrewd light.
Killua and Kyle took the cases and expertly opened them to inspect the contents. Inside, deep purple velvet lined the box, which was neatly packed with chips of all denominations, from 10,000 Jenny to 10,000,000. The 10k chips were a deep blue with silver edges; the 1,000,000 chips were a dazzling gold, set with a tiny diamond in the center; and the 10,000,000 chips were pitch-black, cool to the touch, and made of a special metal that only showed a deep red sheen when they caught the light.
This, however, was a problem for Gon.
He already had a mental block against math, and trying to count over 150 million in assorted chips was making his brain steam. He frowned, fumbling with the tokens, trying to get a simple count. The cold, round chips seemed to slip through his fingers, clattering uselessly.
"I'll do it," Killua said, sighing as he watched Gon try to use his fingers. He took the case.
His fingers flew over the chips, his blue eyes reflecting their colors as his mind performed the complex calculation.
Gon just rubbed his head, smiling sheepishly. Whale Island didn't have many kids, so it didn't have a school. What he knew, he'd either learned from Aunt Mito or online. Math had always been his worst subject.
Killua finished in less than ten seconds. "It's all here," he said, snapping the case shut.
Mia, seeing they were ready, led them into the heart of the casino.
Dozens of gleaming mahogany-and-gold tables were arranged under a massive crystal chandelier. The air was a unique, heady mix of cigars, expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol. The sounds of the roulette wheel, the clatter of dice, the whisper of cards, and the sudden cheers and groans of the patrons all blended into a single, chaotic symphony.
In one corner, a man who had clearly lost everything was being dragged out by two massive bouncers, his screams quickly swallowed by the noise.
The three boys' ages, naturally, drew a lot of stares. But more importantly, the custom-made metal cases in their hands marked them as high-rollers.
Several greedy, predatory gazes locked onto them, like sharks smelling blood.
A bald man emerged from the shadows. He was in his forties, burly, and wearing a loud, flashy shirt with a thick gold chain. His small, sharp eyes flicked to the cases, then to the boys, and a "welcoming" smile spread across his face.
"Evening, kids. Looking to play a few games?" His voice was slick, but his eyes held the unmistakable gleam of a predator. His gaze lingered on Kyle, clearly marking him as the easiest target.
This man was "Jack," the casino's most notorious "shark," specializing in finding and fleecing rich, inexperienced rookies.
Kyle looked at the man's oily smile and his own lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk. "We want to play dice." His voice was bright, full of youthful energy.
"Dice! No problem, the tables are right this way," Jack said, puffing out his chest. "Everyone around here knows I'm a great guy."
Kyle followed him, intentionally looking around at the other tables with a wide-eyed, boyish excitement, playing the part of a rich kid out for a good time.
Mia, their hostess, followed behind. She wouldn't interfere. Her job was to serve, and the more the clients lost, the bigger her tip. She was already mentally calculating how much she'd make, and whether it would be enough for that limited-edition handbag she'd been eying.
Jack led them to the largest, loudest dice table, run by an expressionless dealer.
"This is it," Jack said, his eyes never leaving their cases. "You can play against the house, or you can play against another player. If you play against another player, the house just takes a 5% commission."
"So," Jack smiled, his eyes disappearing into his cheeks like an old fox, "you kids feel like a private game? Against me?"
Kyle, sensing the obvious trap, looked up. "Oh, you want to play us?" His tone was the perfect mix of naive curiosity and arrogant challenge, exactly what Jack was hoping for.
"If that's what you want, I'd be happy to oblige. The private tables are right over there," Jack said, pointing. "It's just us, no house. Though, of course, the house still takes its cut."
"I'm in," Kyle said, "but I don't know if you have the funds. We like to play big." He deliberately patted his case.
Jack just snapped his fingers. A moment later, an associate brought over an identical metal case. Jack opened it, revealing a neat stack of chips. Kyle estimated it was about 100 million.
"Good enough," Kyle said, his eyes shining. "Let's go."
Gon and Killua exchanged a look. They knew this was a setup, but they followed Kyle anyway. As he walked, a knowing smirk played on Killua's lips. He just doesn't know who's trapping who.
A crowd instantly gathered around the private table, eager to watch a veteran shark take on three rich kids.
"So, kid, how do you want to play?" Jack asked, picking up the dice cup.
"Simple," Kyle said, as if it were a game of marbles. "Big or Small. You shake, I guess."
"No problem." Jack smirked. He slapped the table, and the three ivory dice jumped. As they fell, his hand, a blur of motion, expertly caught them in the cup.
Kyle, Gon, and Killua all saw them just before they were covered. Three Fives. Total: 15. "Big."
Then, Jack began his shake. It was a flashy, complex routine—high throws, low passes, behind the back—all designed to impress and, more importantly, to mask his movements.
But as he shook, Kyle's Observation Haki was already active.
Left spin 3, right spin 17, up-down 15...
His brain was a supercomputer, using the sound and rhythm of the clattering dice to build a perfect, real-time model of their trajectory inside the cup.
Gon could also sense the dice tumbling, but with his calculation skills, he lost track almost immediately. He just watched Kyle nervously.
THUD.
Jack slammed the cup down.
In that instant, Kyle and Killua both knew the result.