If this was a magic trick, or they were cheating at cards, there’d have to be more to it. But with all these eyes on them, even the deftest hand would be caught in the act.
What had Haruhi whispered, and what had Nagato done?
“Just to be clear,” Haruhi said, smiling brightly. “If my cards here are a stronger hand than yours, you have to do whatever we say?”
She was clearly winding him up, and the snake-eyed boss took his time answering.
Eventually he said, “Yeah,” his eyes falling to his own face-down hand. Like he had only just started to doubt his decision to put the cards down.
He then glanced at the dealer, but found only empty space. The bartender was back behind the counter, silently polishing a glass.
The boss’s face twisted diabolically. He’d realized something unexpected was going on.
“Ain’t no way I’ll lose,” he snarled. “My hand’s unbeatable. And there’s no sign of you cheating—you’re just bluffing! But it won’t do you any good.”
Yeah, since this would be decided purely on the strength of the hand dealt, the bluffs and mind games of competitive poker really didn’t apply.
The boss was certain he’d win—but also sensed something unfathomable was going on.
Haruhi and Nagato. When those two worked together, the worst-case scenario could well happen. But in this scenario, that would be the worst case for this deeply insecure mob boss and his lackeys. Pulling the rug out from under them was hardly gonna make me feel a pang of guilt.
“Then cards on the table?” Haruhi grinned. “What say we show hands on three?”
Haruhi’s hand reached out from her black sleeve, picking the cards up.
The boss followed suit.
“One, two…three!”
Both hands were exposed to the light of day.
Or the lights in the room.
Five cards times two.
One hand—a pair of threes.
The other—a royal straight flush of spades. The best possible hand, shocking no one.
What did shock people—was whose hand it was.
A frozen silence filled the speakeasy.
“…………”
I couldn’t begin to take the measure of Nagato’s surprise. I couldn’t even tell if this magic trick had been carried out by her or Haruhi.
But to the mob boss and his henchmen, that difference was trivial.
“Ain’t no way!” he bellowed.
I fully sympathized. What had happened was clearly impossible.
Their eyes looked ready to pop out of their skulls.
“How…?!”
Five cards laid out in front of the boss, clearly showing a pair of threes. The same hand Haruhi had been dealt a few minutes before.
In front of Nagato were the ten of spades, then the jack, queen, king, and ace of that suit. Gleaming dully in the lamplight.
During the brief time both hands had been face down—the hands had switched places. And without Nagato ever touching her opponent’s hand. All she’d done was tap the backs of her cards with a wand.
“You cheated!” the boss growled.
“Not at all. Like I said—this was magic. Yuki’s a mage. A bit of a naughty one. But up against scoundrels like you, you’re allowed to be bad.”
It wasn’t that long since Asahina was our resident mage.
“I didn’t think Mikuru could handle a card game.”
And dropping a meteor would not help here.
“…………”
As though her role was done, Nagato got to her feet. She was back in the original black suit. The witch’s hat and cape nowhere to be seen.
“What’d Haruhi say?” I whispered.
“Use a spell to switch the hands.”
So you did that?
“I didn’t do a thing.”
So it was Haruhi. Her power of self-persuasion had instantaneously swapped the hands. Physically transporting them. Apport and asport at the same time… Let’s not think about this further.
“Table-side magicians often pull this trick,” Koizumi explained. “They swap the cards too fast for the eye to see by taking advantage of the way human eyes work.”
Even as he spoke, he must have realized this world had no rules and there was no use trying to justify magic or advanced alien technology. His smile was deeply uncertain.
Haruhi beamed at all the gangsters.
“We win! And we played by your rules. Time to hold up your end of the bargain.”
Her eyes swept the crowd.
“Where are these hostages?”
The gangsters froze up. A very unnatural pause. At last, the boss spoke.
“What are you talking about?”
Like he was playing dumb—but he was clearly panicking. Like an announcer forced against their will to read lines not in the script.
Perhaps we’d been meant to lose this poker game? And since there was no way to win it, there was never any intention for the hostages to appear, so they weren’t even here? We’d probably thrown a huge wrench into things.
Haruhi put her hands on her hips.
“You said you’d return them, win or lose. Who were they again? A young man and woman. I dunno their names.”
“Shut your mouth, cheater!”
The boss pulled a gun from his shoulder holster, and the rest of the mob followed suit. Our guns were still on the table yonder.
We were seconds from being riddled with bullets. Now what?
Just then—a familiar voice started yelling outside the speakeasy door.
“Chicago PD! It’s a raid!”
The hefty wooden door caved in, the lock shattering. Men rushed in with helmets, body armor, and transparent shields.
“Nobody move! Weapons on the floor!”
The cop in front was brandishing a glock (I think) but the only people who obeyed him were the SOS Brigade. I was somewhat shocked Haruhi actually hit the floor, but the gangsters were even more surprised.
“The coppers?!”
They weren’t criminals for nothing. The whole outfit was already kicking tables over, erecting makeshift barricades, turning their guns on the new arrivals—and away from us. That was a relief.
But these officers weren’t dressed right. They looked like they had come straight out of an early twenty-first century TV show—all modern equipment. Wasn’t it supposed to be the 1920s? It felt like two different settings were overlapping.