Renovation (3)
"There's more than one gambling den. What do you expect me to do? Knock on each door and tell you?"
The pickpocket grabbed a handful of dried fruit and muttered back grumpily. Vittorio, eyeing the boy intently, quickly snatched the pouch back.
"Hey!"
The pickpocket huffed, but Vittorio ignored him, slipping into the shadows.
"Give it back!"
"No…"
The two boys circled around me as if playing tag, making me dizzy. Vittorio was incredibly quick on his feet. As I stood there laughing, acting as the pillar in the middle, the pickpocket gasped out a response.
"I mean, the gambling dens suddenly increased a lot overnight…!"
"Hmm, is that so?"
I tilted my head in interest, prompting Vittorio to stop as well, and the pickpocket stumbled to a halt.
"Yeah, no, I mean, I just heard it while passing by… you know, he came back."
Came back. At this point, I could guess who he was referring to.
"The lord's second son, right?"
Who else could it be but Leonardo?
"If you're talking about that troublemaker, then yes. Have you heard anything about him?"
"Just rumours."
I had seen him that morning, after all.
"Well, you must know then. When the troublemaker comes back, he tends to throw money around carelessly."
Ah, so the best mark in El Dante has returned, and everyone is eager to get in on the action. Both gamblers and den owners would be swelling their chests, claiming to be the best and beckoning him to visit their establishments. They'd want him to spread his money around.
"Looks like both the gamblers and the owners are eagerly waiting."
"Yeah. That's why the competition is fierce lately. You could easily end up getting beat up in some alley while checking things out."
"Ah."
I reached out and pointed near the pickpocket's temple, careful not to touch him. Even in the shadowy alley, the dark bruises and scratches were clearly visible.
"Looks like you've been in some trouble, huh?"
"….."
The pickpocket clenched his mouth shut. I turned to Vittorio and tapped my waist, prompting the boy to pull out a small pouch. These were the herbs I had bought from the apothecary before entering the alley. They were probably the most valuable items I had purchased today, and few would believe I'd entrusted something precious to a child, so I left them with Vittorio. I had bought them for my own use, but I never expected they'd be used like this.
"I'm curious why you went to the gambling den. It doesn't seem like you wanted to join the game."
If that were the case, he would have reacted differently when I offered the dried fruit as an advance payment. He would have looked down on it, at the very least. Money offers an opportunity to participate in gambling, and an addict usually comes out desperately seeking a chance to play.
"I don't gamble."
"Why not?"
"I'm not telling you."
Hearing that defiant response again, I simply nodded lightly.
"Sure, let's keep that a secret then. I do enjoy uncovering others' secrets, but I'll respect yours."
"You like listening to other people's secrets? That's totally weird."
"It's how I make my living."
[The
Just putting the mask of the shady informant back on makes me feel at home again.
"Are you really thinking about gambling? Even if you think you'll gain something, you'll end up losing everything and becoming a beggar in the end."
"Thanks for the thoughtful advice. But… I've got my own hidden trump card, you know."
"Everyone says that."
"Right, right. One last question, though."
The pickpocket scrunched up his nose at the smell of herbs emanating from his own body. Then he looked up with a slightly softened expression.
"What is it?"
***
As the sun set, the outskirts of El Dante took on a dimmer tone. No matter how prosperous a city may be, the nights of this era were always dark. Drunk patrons occasionally stumbled home, tracing their way along the walls, while guards patrolled with lanterns in hand. Amidst it all, revelers hosted raucous games in the shadows, each group contributing to the cacophony.
The tavern on one side of an El Dante alley felt stifling, the air heavy and thick. Every window was boarded up, blocking out any light, and the sounds of lutes and drums drowned out the cheers of excited gamblers, trapping all sound and illumination within the sweltering atmosphere.
Inside, those with a little extra money, habitual visitors, and those seeking to shake off their fatigue through thrilling odds gathered closely around various tables. Then someone slipped inside, glancing around the bustling tavern-like gambling hall.
In front of him, two gamblers sat with a pair of dice inside a cup, shaking it vigorously with one hand while covering the opening with the other. With a thud, they simultaneously flipped the cup onto the table, the results of the dice hidden from view. A spectator called out excitedly, "First prediction!"
"My die will show an odd number."
"My die will show an even number."
The spectators shouted again.
"Second prediction!"
"My die will go to the heavens."
"My die will also go to the heavens."
Finally, they all raised their voices together.
"Final prediction!"
"My die will have a side with three pips."
"My die will have a side with five pips."
The gamblers lifted their cups simultaneously. The spectators counted the pips on the dice, and the first gambler laughed.
"3, 6! It seems today is my lucky day. Alright, I've warmed up; it's time to get into a real game!"
Their game was called The Prophet's Dice, a simple betting game where players guess the sum of the two rolled dice. There's nothing as fair and convenient as dice, making it a game played everywhere. Before starting serious gambling, the players always rolled The Prophet's Dice to gauge their luck for the day.
Noticing the man quietly watching against the wall seemed inexperienced, one of the gamblers casually called out to him.
"The Prophet's Dice. One silver coin for the winner. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good. But I'm new to this area. What are the rules for The Prophet's Dice here?"
"Two dice. Once you shake the cup and set it down, you can't touch it until you lift it again. The cup must be lifted with the designated hand."
The gambler took a sip of his drink to wet his throat and added, "The first prediction is about odd or even. The second prediction is about the sum of the two dice. If the sum is between 2 and 6, it's the earth; if it's between 8 and 12, it's the heavens. The third prediction is to guess what number shows up on the dice. Oh, and if the sum is 7, it only counts double when it's made up of 1 and 6."
"That's similar to what I know."
The two players covered the openings of their cups and shook them. The wooden cups, worn at the corners, held light and lively dice carved from animal bones that rolled inside.
Clunk! The two participants removed their hands from the cups and stepped back. This rule was implemented because some players would lean the dice against the wall and tilt the cup when lifting it to manipulate the outcome.
First prediction.
"Odd."
"I think it will be even."
Second prediction.
"It's earth."
"It's the heavens."
Third prediction.
"There will be a side with four pips."
"There will be a side with six pips."
As the two simultaneously lifted their cups, the gambler clicked his tongue. While he had passed both prediction, it was nothing compared to his opponent's results. The man's dice showed 6 and 6—both even, in the heavens, and with six pips.
"You've guessed all the prediction correctly. You're quite lucky."
"Is that so?"
The man smiled broadly.
"I had a feeling luck would be on my side. The dice are treating me well; would you like to roll a few more times?"
"Sure. I thought there couldn't be a more foolish gambler than one who believes luck is always on his side!"
Clink, clink, clink.
As time passed, the atmosphere began to build. The table where the dice were being rolled the loudest and the one where players quietly eyed their opponents for a card game both naturally turned to observe as people began to gather around a single table.
Clatter!
"Hmm… odd, earth, and two pips."
"You've guessed it all again!"
The man, who had been smiling about how well the dice rolled in his hand today, kept hitting his marks without pause. What started as a light game for a few coins had turned into a series of rounds, with the stakes increasing as the bets piled up. Someone asked, "How many rounds has it been?"
"Nine rounds! All nine have been correct. Either the dice are being tampered with, the man himself has some tricks up his sleeve, or he's just incredibly lucky—one of those."
The man sitting in front of the overturned cup glanced casually in the direction of the voice and shrugged lightly.
"If he's cheating, he might lose his hand entirely. If you don't trust him, feel free to increase the number of dice. It could be three, four, or whatever you like. I've never heard of a gambler who can control four or five dice freely in a cup."
As more eyes turned to watch, the lucky man shaking his dice cup cheerfully suggested, "Since you've all stopped your games to watch mine, why not place a bet? Let's see if I guess more correctly this time or if my challenger can outdo me."
"Sounds good! Bartender, let's place our bets!"
"Statistically, it's wiser to bet on that lucky guy."
"What are you talking about? Have you ever seen luck come in a straight line? It can rise and fall just as easily. From what I see…"
"Hey now, before you lose, give me a handshake. I want to take away just a bit of that luck!"
The once quiet gambling hall, focused on the remarkable prophetic dice, erupted into a cacophony that shook the roof. The staff hurriedly accepted bets while grumbling out the odds, and the bustling commotion attracted a crowd, turning the night lively.
Meanwhile, the owner of the tavern, the
His gambling den wasn't always as lively and popular as it was tonight. Ranking it among the others, it had slipped down to the third position—or worse; these days, even that rank felt precarious. If every night were like this, he might have even aimed for the title of the best gambling house in El Dante.
"Hey, how about a card game too?"
"I think I'll try cards tomorrow. Tonight, I feel like rolling dice, and I have a good feeling I'll be in the mood for cards tomorrow."
"You've become quite the prophet, haven't you! Alright, I'll be sure to come back tomorrow and see for myself!"
"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Ah! It seems everyone's pockets are getting lighter because of this, so should we call it a day here? Ah, what the hell. Drinks are on me for everyone here tonight!"
"Cheers!"
The owner, who had been listening absentmindedly to the conversation between the man of fortune—generous enough to buy drinks even for those who had lost their money in frustration—and his customers, suddenly snapped back to his senses.
Among the guests, who were cheering and drinking themselves into a stupor, one man remained sharp-eyed, watching him with a silent smile.
By the time the man had disappeared without a sound and dawn was nearing, signalling the gambling den's closing time, someone entered, casually patting the owner on the shoulder as if joking about the end of the night's business.
"I have a plan to make this place the most popular gambling den in El Dante."
A faint shadow deepened beneath the curve of his smoothly upturned lips.
"So, what do you say? Wanna hear it?"
The owner, as if spellbound, nodded his head.