Gambler's Gambit

The wait for Vernon to turn up was restless. Several times, Euri heard police sirens in the distant streets and jumped to his feet. But Aemon and his colleague seemed unconcerned.

"He's not going to call the police, man. What's his case? His late father has trespassed his home? If he explains the whole thing, the police are going to treat it as a prank. And they don't have time to investigate pranks, not in Peacock District, at least."

Aemon's explanation wasn't without merits, but it wasn't enough to leave Euri as relaxed as they were. But after twenty minutes of nervous waiting, the sound of a car swerving into the driveway dispelled some tension. Mr. Vernon had indeed come himself.

When the car's door opened and a massive man in a tight-fitting suit waddled out, Euri couldn't help taking a subtle glance at Aemon.

No wonder he had been so willing to let Euri tag along on this job! The two of them were probably not confident about their chances if a physical altercation broke out. They needed numbers to make up for the lacking intimidation factor.

Mr. Vernon was a bear of a man, with arms as thick as Euri's legs, and a gut that definitely blocked his view of his toes.

Muscles and fat coagulated to give him the aura of a gluttonous beast. As he rained down thunder on the front door, the hearts of those inside skipped a beat.

"Euri, go open the door."

Aemon's voice wasn't so cocky anymore, but Euri obliged anyway. He doubted there would be immediate danger in this exchange. But he didn't doubt that if danger did erupt, his chances of getting away unharmed were higher than the other two.

Barely had he unlatched the door when Vernon slammed it open and strode in, holding a retractable baton in his grip that none of them had anticipated. But Vernon's furious entry lost its momentum when his eyes fell on Aemon's face.

"...Oh, it's you guys." Stopping in his tracks, he surveyed the three-member team with narrowed eyes and flashed a greasy smile.

"Boss Chen called me last week for this month's installment. It was just not possible at that time for me to pay. So he kindly gave me an extension. Why didn't he tell me that the extension was only for five days? I could've stacked together some cash that way!"

Wiping off the sweat from his forehead, he threw the baton away and crashed on the nearby sofa like a dead log.

"Oh? So quick to throw your only weapon away?" Jameson picked the rolling baton up from the floor and examined it curiously.

"30,000 volts, 3 milliamps... This ain't a cheap prop!"

Vernon waved a hand nonchalantly. "What would I need it for? You're not going to harm someone who owes you 764,000 credits, are you? What benefit would that bring you?"

Seeing Aemon's eyes gleaming dangerously at that explanation, Mr. Vernon just laughed.

"What? Your boss needs me to be alive and well if he wants the installments to be paid in time. Don't get any funny ideas, you sadistic freak."

Euri shook his head in dismay. This middle-aged boor was a true gambler. The instinct was etched in his bones. He was even gambling with the loan sharks!

Aemon didn't seem to mind the crude insult. Instead, he left his chair and walked over to the back of Vernon's sofa, and leaned down to speak gently in his ears.

"Since I don't need to remind you about your installments, pay up, fatty."

Complimenting the threat in his tone, Jameson came to stand in front of the couch, clutching the baton to his chest with both hands as if it were some sacred object. Both of his thumbs rested on the zapper activation button.

Caught between the two predators, the prey, Mr. Vernon, should have been a lot more nervous than what his appearance suggested. His poker face betrayed no hint of fear, nor even a shred of caution.

"I've told you earlier. Your boss, Mr. Chen, should have warned me that you guys would come within five days. I don't have that kind of cash lying around; not in my home, nor in my bank accounts."

"Sucks to be you, then. Because we're not returning empty-handed." Aemon's tone gradually turned icy. Even Euri, who had known this guy since childhood, felt a chill forming in his stomach.

"Fifty thousand per installment, seventy on extension—that was your deal, Mr. Vernon. Arrange. The. Damn. CASH!"

Fast as a lightning bolt, a slap landed on Mr. Vernon's temple. The man had no way to block an attack from the direction Aemon was standing in. He could only turn his reddening neck stiffly, tears of pain forming in his eyes.

"Hey! You can't hit a man—"

Slap!

"I won't—"

Slap!

"Fine! Keep slapping me! Knock me out! I don't care! But I really can't give you that much money right now!"

To Euri, the visuals were a surreal trip, seeing the heavyset man accept the pain and humiliation as he stopped dodging Aemon's slaps. His nerve-ends felt like wicks burning under icy fire. There was sweat on his back, the back of his hands, hovering over his temples and constantly telling him how unfit he was for this line of business.

Aemon's assault on the client came to a stop. Sighing, he clicked his fingers at Euri.

"There's a Skygold wristwatch framed in this fatty's bedroom. Go get it. Should cover the basic of the installment."

Skygold brand?! Euri almost choked on his own spit. This man had a Skygold watch on him, and he hadn't sold it yet when the situation was this serious?

Mr. Vernon suddenly seemed to regain his energy at the mention of the wristwatch.

"My salary is due next week! I can pay the money! Seventy thousand, eighty thousand, whatever the amount is! Don't be so unreasonable!"

"You're the one being unreasonable here," Aemon growled as he slapped him from behind again.

"It's my lucky watch! I've won more bets than I can count with it! Please, try to understand-"

Are all addicts this delusional? Euri felt pity towards this pathetic fellow. His parents didn't seem so bad in comparison. They still had their wits with them, at least.

At Aemon's signal, Euri made his way to the bedroom and discovered the treasure on the frame of the bed. Black markers and hands, silver dial and lugs, meshed with a dull gold casing—a little tacky, but a beauty indeed!

Grabbing it, he walked out of the bedroom in a good mood. The hard part was over now. Money was in their hands. He didn't have to sit and watch his associates torment helpless idiots.

But when he stepped past the doorframe, the picture that greeted him in the living room disoriented his expectant gaze.

Aemon's body was draped over the couch like a towel spread to be dried. Vernon was pressing down on Jameson on the floor in a chokehold, punching his face into pulp, and Jameson was jamming the buzzing baton into Vernon's guts like a madman.

Yet the outcome of getting punched by 30,000 voltage zaps didn't appear. Vernon's face was twisted into a furious sneer.

"You guys would make some terrible gamblers. Never trust the cards that come from a dealer's hand, fool."

How the hell did such a fight happen so suddenly, so silenty?!

By the time Euri had recovered from shock, Jameson's struggles had weakened. Vernon paid his awkward flailing no more attention and stood up, now facing Euri, fists bloody, suit torn, eyes rabid red.

The mountain of a man stretched out his wet hand and gestured at Euri.

"Put that watch down."

Euri had no problem complying with that.

"And kneel for your punishment."

That, Euri did not wish to do.