Roulette just might be the simplest game to understand at a casino─all you have to do is place your bets. Even I could handle that. Still, there must be some trick or method to it, and I suspected Mr. Bare-Legs had even less of a grasp of the game than I did; honestly, it looked like he was just throwing his chips down pretty much at random.
I guess that’s one way to play, and it’s kind of cute, even─but just as I was feeling charmed by young Hyota’s artless innocence, I looked a little closer and realized his actions weren’t so cute after all.
He wasn’t placing bets randomly, he was betting against the crowd─every single time, he placed his chips on the opposite of the color or numbers the other players chose.
Oh man…
I’d hate it if someone did that to me…
Apparently he wasn’t so much betting to win as amusing himself by sowing chaos around the wheel and upsetting the other players─yes, that angelic face of his just might be hiding the most devilish personality of all the Pretty Boys.
But one thing that watching him─and Sotoin and Sakiguchi as well─made abundantly clear was that casinos aren’t just about the interaction between dealer and player, or house and guest, if you will─the other strangers at the table are also an indispensable element of the game.
The air was thick with the desire to win big in front of everyone, or to bet more than anyone else─to me, everyone seemed at least as concerned with how other people saw them as they were with winning.
They were playing.
I suppose not that many people genuinely dream of winning big at gambling─which meant Mr. Bare-Legs’ style of play wouldn’t be so unusual, if only he didn’t take it so far.
As for the ill-tempered delinquent, I was certain he must be having a ball in this sort of venue, but when I finally spotted him, he was backing away from the baccarat table.
Baccarat… Um, what kind of game was that again?
Blackjack and poker were bad enough, but baccarat? All that name meant to me was a fancy brand of crystal.
Did it have something to do with betting on whether the number would be big or small?
The game seemed to have just ended, so I started walking toward Fukuroi to ask about it, but then made an abrupt U-turn.
His expression was brutally fierce.
Michiru Fukuroi was striding toward the purchase booth looking every inch the bossman, his mouth a tight line and an obvious chip on his shoulder about what I could only guess was a recent loss of chips.
He looked like a wild beast.
“…”
Even though he’d been playing for less than ten minutes, he already seemed to have run through his thousand yen─which meant he’d suffered the picture-perfect loss of a hundred yen per minute.
From behind, he was somehow both totally unapproachable and the veritable embodiment of defeat─and he looked ready to spend the rest of his cash on more chips so he could wreak his revenge.
From my perspective, his indomitable spirit was admirable, but from the casino’s, he probably just looked like an easy mark.
As a friend, I wanted to warn him to quit, to say that if he knew the rules of baccarat then he should also learn the one about cutting one’s losses, but sorry, I was way too scared.
To tell the truth, just the sight of him walking away like that was enough to make me want to give up on being his friend entirely.
Actually, we might be members of the same club, but we weren’t really friends yet─and with that thought in mind, I hurried away from the dangerous individual.
Plotting unscrupulously to gain the upper hand in our relationship by comforting him once he’d run through all his money and ended up penniless, I looked around for the last member of the club: the child genius. That guy’s good at disappearing, and once you lose sight of him, it can be tough to find him again.
Just when I’d started to consider taking off my glasses to search for him, I spotted him sitting in front of a slot machine─slots, huh?
Unlike the table games, with slots you don’t have to compete with a dealer, let alone interact with the other guests.
It’s a completely solitary pursuit, the machine itself your only opponent.
Kind of like a video game─except that these days, even video games connect you to other players online.
What can I say?
Basically, this kid likes to be by himself, I guess─he’s the acting director of a massive foundation for crying out loud, but no matter how bursting with talent he might be, the role is definitely a bad fit on a personal level.
Throwing pottery, drawing pictures, hell, turning gloomy girls into pretty boys─those are much more to his liking… When you think about it, having a gift can really be a burden.
Same goes for my eyes.
Maybe that’s part of the reason a guy with such an outstanding résumé belongs to an obscure organization like the Pretty Boy Detective Club─in which case, presumptuous as it may sound, maybe Yubiwa and I are actually two of a kind, despite seeming to have nothing whatsoever in common on the surface.
Boy, that really does sound presumptuous, doesn’t it.
…But the genius of the child genius didn’t seem very well suited to gambling, and as I watched him at the slots, he didn’t achieve anything worth mentioning: some wins, some losses, just about breaking even, by the looks of it.
I hear that kind of game is designed to be balanced, so basically no one wins big or loses big─apparently, the ideal for the casino is that everyone ends up losing a little bit of money.
Even the guests who lose should go home happy.
As far as I could tell, the Reasonable Doubt had achieved that ideal to some extent─although of course there’s the occasional delinquent bossman who ends up throwing away everything he has.
Yeah.
How do I put this? From what I could tell, it all seemed above board─I didn’t sense any villainous intent to swindle middle school kids out of every last penny of their allowance.
The guests and staff alike all seemed happy─to the point that the collective satisfaction was rather blinding.
The place felt like one big party.
Since this whole escapade had started with a wad of counterfeit cash, I’d felt scared before we got there, like I was about to enter the underbelly of society. In that sense, the reality was a letdown.
To me, coming to a flashy night spot like this felt like getting lost in a foreign land. I was so uncomfortable that part of me wanted to run away, but another part felt like if everyone else was having fun, what was the problem?
“...............................................................................................................................................”
But of course, this was all illegal, right?
The crime of gambling.
The crime of illegally operating a gaming house.
Those were serious violations of the law.
It was all so brazen that it was easy to forget, but if law enforcement showed up here, every last person would get busted.
Dealers and guests alike.
The bunny girls, too.
Management did take some precautions, like banning photography and handing out masks, but that felt perfunctory.
Another thing I’d noticed as I made the rounds was the presence of kids acting as plainclothes security (I say “plainclothes,” but of course they were very elegant), though I assume their job was to settle disputes between guests, not to keep out the authorities.
Hmm… It wasn’t really my business, but concern (or lack thereof) for the law aside, I couldn’t help being a little anxious about their lack of precautionary measures.
Or maybe it was my business, since after all, I was part of an undercover investigative team….
“Pardon me, but is everything alright?”
The sudden voice made me jump.