11: A Game Rigged to Lose

The gloomy-faced man left the table and quietly signaled to the enforcers scattered throughout the teahouse.

Within minutes, all unrelated guests were herded out. The once-bustling Rockridge Teahouse became unnaturally quiet.

Now, only two remained: Saphir and Yelan.

"Saphir, this is looking dicey."

Yelan whispered the warning with narrowed eyes.

She knew the teahouse's owner.

Anyone running an underground casino in Liyue and still breathing was bound to have some heavy backing.

And with how much money Saphir had already won, there was no way they'd let her walk away without coughing it all back—plus interest.

But would Saphir roll over and take it?

Yelan almost snorted. Not likely.

From what she'd heard, this girl had supposedly taken down Beidou herself.

A few crooked gamblers wouldn't even make her blink.

Still, they were in Liyue, and while places like Rockridge Teahouse skirted the edge of legality, they were still protected under local law.

If things got out of hand, even the infamous Harbingers might find themselves in legal trouble—especially if that certain law expert got involved.

And Yelan, for all her boldness, was wary of her.

"What's your plan now?"

Yelan watched the girl's back, deciding—for now—to keep observing.

Saphir turned lazily toward the man who'd just entered.

"So you're the owner? What now? Gonna play a few rounds with me yourself?"

The bespectacled man adjusted his collar, clearly not used to being dismissed so casually.

"That's right. I'm the owner of Rockridge Teahouse. My name is—"

"Not interested. Just roll the dice. I'm on a schedule."

The man's expression darkened.

"Hmph. Mouthy brat."

The next round began.

Just like before, Saphir placed all her Mora on the table without hesitation.

The owner snorted and shook the dice cup. But after a peek inside, his eyes twitched.

She was right again.

She hadn't seen the roll, yet somehow nailed it.

Again.

"Tch… think that's enough to stop me?"

With a flick of his wrist, he activated a hidden switch beneath the table.

Yelan noticed.

So did Saphir.

Yelan didn't react, but internally she scoffed.

"So this is how they survive… dirty tricks and hidden mechanics. Typical."

"You're good, girl," the owner said aloud, face dark with calculation.

"But let me teach you something your parents clearly forgot—there's always a bigger fish."

The cup lifted.

"Five, five, three! Thirteen points!"

A complete mismatch.

With that single rigged roll, the owner recovered everything Saphir had won, plus her starting stack—over a million Mora.

He smiled brightly, waiting to see her fall apart.

But she didn't even flinch.

"Oops," Saphir said breezily, "looks like I messed up that one."

She reached into her robe and pulled out a piece of parchment.

"Say, owner. You take Northland Bank checks here, right?"

That name.

The man twitched.

He knew exactly what that meant.

The Northland Bank was a front for the Fatui, run directly under the Harbingers.

He'd done business with them. A lot.

And owed them… more than just money. Favors. Blood. Secrets.

He was already in too deep.

"Of course," he said, trying to sound neutral. "As long as it's valid, we'll honor it."

"Great."

Saphir stepped around the table, her left hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

With her right, she held the check before his eyes.

Three billion Mora.

That alone was enough to make him sweat.

But then—he saw the back.

Two crests.

One for the Fatui Harbingers.

The other was personal—'Dark Shepherd', the twelfth Harbinger's emblem.

He froze.

His knees went weak.

"L-Lady…"

Before he could finish the sentence, her hand pressed slightly down on his shoulder.

"Come on now, mister owner. Time to roll the dice."

Her voice was sweet. Her smile gentle.

But her grip felt like the weight of a mountain.

He couldn't speak.

He couldn't move.

His mind spun.

If he rolled and lost, that would mean paying out three hundred billion Mora—impossible.

But if he rigged the dice to win?

He might not live long enough to spend it.

She was a Harbinger. Killing him wouldn't even be illegal where she came from.

And her aura—her killing intent—was thick enough to choke on.

The dice cup shook.

Everyone held their breath.

One second… two… five…

Still no result.

"Hmm? What's wrong?" Saphir asked softly. "Cup broken? Or are you just putting on a show for the big bet?"

The man's hands trembled.

Then—with a sudden turn—he dropped to his knees with a thud.

"Please, milady… spare me…"

Dead silence.

Yelan stood in place, stunned. She hadn't expected this to collapse so quickly.

"Tsk. Lame," Saphir muttered, giving the man a light kick that sent him sprawling backward.

Then she walked to the front desk, lifted her foot, and cracked the floor with a stomp.

A secret compartment popped open.

Inside was a second ledger—the real one, full of dirty deals and Taboo transactions.

"Hey, Randy," she called over her shoulder, tossing the book toward Yelan,

"First task for you: deliver this to Yujing Terrace."

Yelan—still in shock—caught it on reflex.

"Move in."

With that command, a dozen Debt Collectors appeared from the shadows like ghosts, kneeling instantly.

"Hold them here until the authorities arrive," she ordered,

"and make sure they understand: this man lost a three-hundred-billion wager to me.

He can't pay.

So the Rockridge Teahouse is mine now. Collateral. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Saphir nodded, then turned toward Yelan, who was still staring at the dice cup.

She leaned in, whispering with a playful grin:

"Curious, aren't you?

Go on, take a peek.

But remember—once you do…

you're mine now, Little Yelan."

And with that, she vanished.

Yelan shivered involuntarily.

She spun around—but Saphir was already gone.

Moments passed.

Finally, unable to contain her curiosity, Yelan stepped forward and lifted the cup.

Six. Six. Six.

Triple Six. Jackpot.

"Hah…" Yelan exhaled.

"Of course.

Not a single drop left to chance."

~~~----------------------

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