The Gamble

Las Vegas Suburbs, Midnight.

In a private high-stakes poker room, a group of gamblers sat around a square table, deep in a game of Texas Hold'em. 

The dim chandelier cast soft shadows, the scent of alcohol lingered in the air, and the leather armchairs creaked faintly as players shifted in their seats.

On the wall, an ultra-thin OLED TV was broadcasting CNN's latest breaking news. Though the volume was low, the anchor's excited tone was clear enough for everyone to hear.

"Breaking News—We have confirmed that the world's only physical artifact-tier item, Stone of Glory, from Glory Lords X, has been successfully claimed by a mysterious individual! Reports suggest that this one-of-a-kind item unlocks the hidden 'Hero Awakening' feature and activates the legendary ultimate quest. Meanwhile, an unidentified billionaire has offered a staggering $100 million bounty to acquire this so-called 'artifact'."

For a brief moment, the poker table fell silent.

A man with glasses adjusted his frames and clicked his tongue. "Stone of Glory? You mean that legendary item? I heard if you slot it into a VR device's special gem port, your in-game hero undergoes 'full awakening'—stats go off the charts." His tone carried a mix of skepticism and barely contained excitement.

Beside him, a younger man in a perfectly tailored Armani suit exuded the aura of a Wall Street elite.

Leaning forward slightly, he smirked. "You guys realize the official reward for completing that quest is already ten million dollars? That alone is enough to send pro gamers worldwide into a frenzy. But if a billionaire is willing to throw down a hundred million… that means the Stone of Glory is worth far more than we think."

Near the bar, a blonde woman lazily leaned against the table, idly swirling the ice in her cocktail. Her Victoria's Secret slip dress dipped just enough to be effortlessly seductive, the bar counter subtly lifting the fabric.

She chuckled, lips curling into a teasing smile. "A hundred million dollars? Jesus, that's not just 'filthy rich'—that's straight-up setting money on fire. God help us, I just hope that billionaire is a sexy one…"

In the corner, a burly man downed a shot of whiskey in one gulp, then slammed the glass onto the table with the force of a football coach rallying his team. "You're all missing the real headline! My sources say something even bigger than the bounty—whoever gets the Stone of Glory gets direct access to Ubisoft Fantasy's secret R&D division to test their next-gen VR tech."

"Next-gen VR?" The man with glasses frowned.

The burly man raised an eyebrow smugly. "That's right. Word is, it's full neural integration—no headsets, no controllers. Just like The Matrix, straight consciousness immersion into the game world."

The air at the table went still.

Everyone knew—if that kind of technology was real, it wouldn't just revolutionize gaming. It could change the very fabric of reality.

The man's words rippled through the room like a stone dropped into a still lake. Meanwhile, standing behind him, two men in black trench coats and sunglasses quietly observed the conversation unfolding at the table.

But amidst the rising tension, Ethan Parker remained as composed as ever.

Leaning back in his chair, he idly spun a custom black-and-gold poker chip between his fingers, the dim light catching its metallic sheen.

His black leather jacket blended seamlessly with his aura—low-key, sharp, and effortlessly cool.

His gray-green eyes reflected the scattered chips and playing cards on the table, unreadable, giving nothing away.

Across from him, Griffin Musk—lean, sharp-eyed—was absentmindedly shuffling two stacks of chips with practiced precision, the rhythmic clinking filling the silence.

Every now and then, Griffin's gaze flickered to the TV screen, where the words Stone of Glory flashed briefly. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

After a beat of silence, someone finally broke the tension.

"Hey, Ethan, what do you make of this?"

The dealer's fingers moved swiftly through the deck, the sound of shuffling steady and rhythmic—like the calm before a storm.

The cards hadn't been dealt yet. There was still a moment left for small talk… or subtle probing.

Ethan lifted his gaze at the mention of his name, a faint, almost lazy smile playing on his lips.

"What do I make of it?" His tone was casual, almost indifferent. "Out of three hundred million players worldwide, one lucky bastard gets their hands on the only Stone of Glory? That's some insane luck."

He paused, tapping his poker chip against the table, his eyes sweeping over the faces around him. Then, his voice dropped slightly, carrying an edge beneath the nonchalance.

"But luck is one thing. Whether they actually deserve the Stone of Glory? That's a whole different story. If I ever run into this so-called 'lucky winner'… I'd love to place a bet with them."

As soon as Ethan finished speaking, Griffin let out a sharp scoff.

It wasn't loud, but in the tense silence of the poker table, everyone heard it crystal clear. He kept his head down, lips curling into a smirk of disdain, clearly unimpressed by Ethan's words.

But he didn't respond immediately. He was weighing his options—because out of everyone at this table, he was the one who truly understood the real value of the Stone of Glory.

And yet, Ethan's calm demeanor, that effortless arrogance, irritated him more than he cared to admit.

"Ethan," Griffin finally lifted his gaze, his eyes sharp as a blade, his voice low but laced with challenge. "Feeling lucky tonight, huh? Let's raise the stakes—loser strips down to their underwear, puts their boxers on their head, and crawls out of here like a dog."

Before anyone could react, he shoved a stack of blood-red chips into the center of the table. The sharp clack of the chips colliding echoed through the room, slicing through the heavy air like a gunshot.

The atmosphere tightened instantly, the weight of the bet pressing down on everyone's chest.

At that moment, the dealer tapped the deck lightly, the crisp sound cutting through the tension.

"Shuffle."

With that single word, all eyes snapped back to the cards and chips. The TV screen had already switched to commercials, and the heated discussion about the Stone of Glory was momentarily set aside.

But the real focus of the table wasn't on the news anymore.

It was on the two men who had barely spoken—Ethan and Griffin.

Because this wasn't just about money.

Maybe… the stakes were far higher than anyone realized.

...

One Hour Later

The poker table had been reduced to just two players—Griffin and Ethan.

The others had been wiped out in the relentless waves of high-stakes betting, forced to fold or lose everything.

Now, the table was a battlefield, piled high with multicolored chips, each one carrying the weight of fortunes won and lost. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and cigars, so dense it felt like breathing in liquid tension.

A crowd had gathered around them, watching in hushed anticipation, afraid to miss even the slightest movement.

This was no longer just a poker game.

This was a duel that could change everything.

"Gentlemen, are you ready?"

The dealer's voice was low and gravelly, but that simple question sent a ripple of adrenaline through the spectators.

With steady hands, the dealer revealed the Flop:

King of Spades. Nine of Hearts. Three of Diamonds.

All eyes locked onto the three cards.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then, Griffin took a deep breath, his sharp gaze sweeping across the table. His voice, thick with a Southern drawl, broke the silence.

"Alright, boys. I'm opening—one million dollars in the pot."

The heavy thud of his chips hitting the table was like a war drum signaling the start of battle.

Ethan's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. A flicker of something sharp and calculating flashed in his gray-green eyes.

With deliberate ease, he reached into his towering stack of chips, picked out a neat pile, and pushed it forward.

"One million? Cute. Raise—two million."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"Betting this aggressively right after the flop? That's insane."

Someone chuckled under their breath. "Now this is poker. This is what gets the blood pumping."

The energy in the room shifted—this wasn't just a game anymore.

Griffin's eyes gleamed with challenge. Without hesitation, he doubled his previous bet, his voice cold and sharp.

"Then let's make it four million."

The tension in the air thickened, the weight of the chips on the table pressing down on everyone's nerves.

But Ethan?

He was still as relaxed as ever.

His smirk deepened, his fingers tapping lightly against the felt. Then, without breaking eye contact, he casually pushed forward another stack.

"Alright. Eight million."

...