Chapter 5

The atmosphere in the room had grown even more intense as the game stretched on. Lance, still sitting behind the dealer's seat, kept his poker face in place, but inwardly, he was observing every detail. Kenji was on the ropes, with barely 20 big blinds left, but he managed to hang on—just.

The board was now set: K♠️K♦️K♥️A♠️, and Lance dealt the final card: A♥️. It was the kind of moment that made or broke a player, and Kenji knew it. The air was thick with the possibility of a wild swing.

"Mr. T, your turn," Lance said.

Mr. T glanced at Kenji, his eyes unreadable. After a moment of deliberation, he pushed forward, his voice calm. "All in."

Kenji froze for a moment, staring at the table. The weight of the moment was unbearable. His heart raced, but then his hand moved without hesitation—snap-called. He threw his cards onto the table with a quick flick: K♣️2♥️.

The room went silent as the cards landed. 

Mr. T furrowed his brow, his expression barely shifting as he looked at his own hand—A♣️Q♣️. After a long pause, he sighed, the faintest hint of frustration in his voice. "You got lucky, boy." He mucked his cards, tossing them into the center of the table.

Kenji leaned back in his chair, a deep sigh of relief escaping him. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he patted it, the tension finally leaving his body. "Damn, that was close," he muttered to himself, but his eyes flickered nervously to Mr. T, wondering what the man would do next.

Lance, still silent, shuffled the deck again, his hands moving mechanically as he prepared for the next round. But there was no mistaking the shift in the atmosphere. Mr. T's mood had darkened a bit, and Kenji's luck might have just bought him a temporary reprieve.

A few hands later, Kenji had somehow managed to even out the chips between himself and Mr. T. The tension in the room was growing, and Mr. T's usual calm demeanor seemed to be slipping. The smug look on Kenji's face didn't help either—he was playing a dangerous game, but for now, it seemed to be paying off.

As Lance shuffled the cards, Mr. T's eyes narrowed, and he shot a quick glance at the dealer. "I want to change the cards. This pack is too unlucky."

Lance paused mid-shuffle, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? As per your wish." He leaned back in his chair.

Mr. T raised a hand to signal one of his men, but before anyone could move, Lance already had another new pack in his hands. "What do you know, I have another new pack on me." 

He gave Mr. T a slight shrug. "See, the thing with working at a convenience store means I have easy access to packs of cards."

The words hung in the air for a beat, and everyone in the room seemed to pause, as if trying to understand what exactly Lance meant by that. But he wasn't waiting for a response. He unwrapped the fresh pack of cards, tossing the plastic aside as he spread them out neatly across the table.

"Do you want to check the cards?" he asked, looking up at Mr. T with an almost playful expression, as though daring him to challenge it.

Mr. T stared at Lance, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You–"

Lance interrupted smoothly, his tone nonchalant. "Would you like to check the cards, or should we keep playing?"

There was a sharp moment of silence. Mr. T's gaze flicked over Lance, as though weighing his options. The older man seemed to sense something in Lance's boldness—something that made him pause.

After a beat, Mr. T narrowed his eyes and, with a small grunt, waved his hand dismissively. "No need. Let's play."

Lance didn't flinch. He simply shrugged and began shuffling the fresh deck, his hands moving with a practiced ease. The dealer dealt the cards, and the game resumed, but now there was a certain tension in the air, a quiet battle of wits unfolding alongside the poker hands.

Kenji's fingers tightened around his own cards as he prepared for the next round. It seemed like the stakes were getting higher, and Lance wasn't about to let up. Mr. T might have thought he was still in control, but the dealer had proven to be an unpredictable force.

Mr. T looked down at his cards – A♣️A♦️ – and thought, I've been thinking too much. He raised 5BB. 

Kenji frowned when he saw his cards – 5♠️ 5♦️. "Damn, Lance… Our luck runs out… How do I play this hand…" 

Lance shrugged. "Act fast, I don't have the whole day. Because of you, I have to pay someone else double to cover my shift. I'll be billing you for that."

"Urgh…" Kenji took a few minutes to think, until Mr. T lost his patience. 

"I… I'll call!" Kenji eventually said. 

"Finally…" Lance rolled his eyes before dealing the flop. 

A♠️A♥️4♠️

"Check," Mr. T said, leaning back in his chair.

"Check," Kenji followed suit, unsure of his next move.

Lance nodded and dealt the turn card – 2♠️.

Mr. T raised, pushing a quarter of his stack into the pot.

Kenji's mind raced. Possible flush… maybe a straight flush… He hesitated, weighing his options. "I'm… All in," he declared, pushing all his chips to the center.

"Call!" Mr. T snapped and flipped his cards open. He then laughed and looked at Lance. "Boy, looks like you can't escape this time." 

"I'm sorry…" Kenji groaned, looking at the four of a kind on the table. His hands shot up. "Wait! Don't deal just yet!"

He quickly clasped his hands together in a prayer, muttering under his breath. "Dearest Buddha, Jesus, God, Allah… please bless me just this once. I'll stop gambling in underground dens… I'll donate all my allowance this year… Just let me win this hand!"

Lance rolled his eyes, while Mr. T raised an eyebrow, amused. 

"Sorry to interrupt your holy prayer session, but can we continue?" the man asked with a laugh.

Kenji glanced at the cards on the table, muttering another prayer before throwing up his hands in defeat. "Fine… let's do this."

With his eyes tightly shut, he kept praying, unwilling to witness his fate.

Lance discarded a card and placed the River card down.

3♠️

A heavy silence fell over the table. Kenji slowly cracked open an eye. When he saw the final card, his face lit up in disbelief. "3 of Spades! It's the 3 of Spades! A straight flush!!!" He jumped out of his seat, running around the room, hugging Mr. T's men. "A straight flush! Holy shit! I'm the luckiest guy alive! I need to hit the roulette table right now!"

BAM!

Kenji groaned, clutching his stomach as he stumbled beside Lance. The latter had not held back at all.

"M-must you do that…" Kenji whimpered, tears welling up in his eyes as he glanced up at his best friend. "At least, hold back a little…"

Lance didn't even look at him, his eyes focused on Mr. T across the room. "Are we free to go?"

Mr. T gritted his teeth. "Go."

With that, the boys quickly made their way out, the tension still thick in the air.

Once they were gone, Mr. T picked up his glass of wine and, in a burst of frustration, hurled it across the room. The glass shattered against the wall, sending a spray of liquid and shards everywhere.

"Boss, should we get them back?" one of his men asked cautiously.

Mr. T didn't answer right away. Instead, he swung his fist, landing a punch square in the man's face. The sound of the hit echoed through the room.

"Don't you dare damage my reputation!" Mr. T snapped, his voice dangerously low.

The man staggered, holding his face, but didn't respond. Mr. T took a deep breath and made his way to the couch, sinking into it with a deep exhale. After a while, he relaxed and signaled for another drink to be brought over. 

"Lance Maxwell…" he muttered under his breath. Mr. T chuckled after a while, "Right under my nose… You crazy kid… You are your father's son, for sure."