Five days later.
Red Moon Pack, Flank Casino, VIP Room.
The night had fallen, and the moonlight filtered in through the window, casting eerie shadows on the black carpet. It was the blood-red moon, reflecting an unsettling crimson hue in everyone's eyes. The air was thick with an indescribable sense of oppression, as if an ancient force was slowly awakening within the room.
The dealer, with a calm, detached gaze, shuffled the cards with mechanical precision, as if he had done this countless times. He then placed the cards into the dealing machine, scanning the table, and asked quietly, "Would you like to cut the cards?"
Waldo's lips curled into a faint smile on one side, his eyes void of emotion, his gaze indifferent as he looked at Harvey across the table. "No need."
"No cut." Harvey's voice was smooth, yet a trace of disdain lingered. His eyes shimmered with an unusual gleam, as though hiding something beneath.