The moment I heard those words I had a guess as to what might have happened, but contrary to the first image that popped into my mind, the delinquent hadn’t overturned the baccarat table after his losing streak.
In fact, he was leaning against the wall with his head in his hands, wearing a look that said, “I’m screwed! What’ll I do about tomorrow’s ordering?” Apparently, I was too late to save him from himself.
Actually, I don’t know if Michiru the Epicure is personally in charge of ordering provisions, but in any case, he looked like a guy who’d burned through all his cash.
Yes, gambling carries the inherent risk of ruin.
Which reminds me, I’d better state clearly right now that this case file is in no way intended to encourage young people to gamble (your narrator is weak-kneed).
I was curious to know just what kind of loss could transform the aggressive bossman into a depressed shadow of himself in the space of twenty unsupervised minutes, but…hopefully, he could think of today’s experience as money well spent on an important life lesson.
It’s a cliché, but hotheaded people really are poorly suited to gambling─anyway, that’s beside the point.
Fukuroi might have learned a pricey lesson, but from what I could see, the other members of the Pretty Boy Detective Club had paid a fair price for the fun they’d had, and now they were out of chips.
I suppose they saw it more as an arcade than a casino─they all seemed to have won some and lost some in the course of gathering information, then used up the rest of their chips and stepped away from their respective tables once they were done.
All but one of them.
And that one was the problem that the bunny girl had come over to tell Fudatsuki about: Nagahiro Sakiguchi, vice president of the Pretty Boy Detective Club.
Nagahiro the Orator.
“Whoa…” I couldn’t help exclaiming as I took in the massive heap of chips stacked on the side table next to him.
And what’s more, the chips weren’t the same color as the ones he’d originally bought from the purchase booth.
These were definitely not hundred-yen chips.
Each one must have been worth two hundred and fifty, five hundred…maybe even a thousand yen─who knows, some of them might’ve been worth ten thousand yen a piece!
No way, no freaking way.
One thing was certain, there were a lot of different colors, and the pile as a whole had to represent a serious amount of money.
“Oh man oh man oh man…”
I didn’t even need to use my special eyesight.
Anyone could see he was winning big.
Wow, good on us for choosing such a winner to be president of Yubiwa Middle School’s student council─but I couldn’t bring myself to applaud his success.
In fact, and this might be a bit presumptuous for a regular student like myself, his ostentatious winning streak was so infuriating that a New York gangster voice in my head kept asking, “Whaddaya think yer doin’?” We were supposed to be investigating the casino, and if that meant playing a couple of games in the name of detective work, fine─but what was he thinking, drawing attention to himself like this?
A fox with flowing locks stood out plenty to start with, but now everyone in the casino was looking at him.
The girls, in particular, were transfixed.
Each time Nagahiro the Orator uttered the words “bet,” “call,” or “raise,” the female guests and workers alike flew into a greater frenzy─was that what had brought the bunny girl rushing over to Fudatsuki?
Though maybe she was too late in any case─if Sakiguchi left the table now, the casino would suffer an enormous loss.
Not enough to bankrupt it, I’m sure, but definitely enough to wipe out the night’s earnings.
Didn’t he know how to control himself?
With all due respect, this was a guy who’d been student council president since his first year, so maybe he had a greedy streak, or rather a thirst for victory─perhaps he didn’t understand the concept of losing gracefully.
Ignoring for a moment the delinquent’s miserable defeat, the leader, Mr. Bare-Legs, and the child genius seemed to have no problem at all in that department.
All three stood watching their fellow member’s winning streak from afar. The leader looked pleased with his subordinate’s performance, Mr. Bare-Legs appeared fed up with the older student’s inability to read the room, and the child genius had a blank look on his face that gave no hint whatsoever as to his thoughts.
My own expression was probably most similar to Mr. Bare-Legs’.
Compared to what the vice president was doing, Mr. Bare-Legs amusing himself by sowing panic among his fellow players had been the picture of discretion.
“…”
Worried, I turned back to Fudatsuki, the manager of the casino.
The boy playing Othello with me─or should I call him the playboy?
Anyway, I was wondering how he’d handle the issue. Was it all just part of the game to him? Would he claim he couldn’t care less about taking a loss? Would he let Sakiguchi and the rest of us leave like nothing had happened?
I’m not such a dreamer that I’d genuinely cling to a faint hope like that─after all, if that were his attitude, then the bunny girl would never have interrupted our conversation.
He called this place a casino, so I’m sure he let people take home small winnings without a fuss, but the possessor of that beautiful voice had clearly crossed the line.
The only justification I could think of for that mountain of chips was that he had a young girl to provide for.
And, sure enough, Fudatsuki said, “The student council president.”
The hint of a smile played across his face.
He looked at ease, but I took no comfort in his expression─because he’d just said what?
The president of Kamikazari Middle School student council had just said─
“The president of the Yubiwa Academy Middle School student council. Is he a friend of yours?”
“…”
Yeah, I guess that would be hard to hide.
These two were the student council presidents of neighboring, not to mention rival, middle schools─just wearing his hair down when he usually wore it up wasn’t much of a disguise. Thinking back to our conversation in the art room, I remembered that a strange look had shadowed Sakiguchi’s face when I described “Mr. Businessman.”
Not that I had to think too hard─the look had been really obvious.
Sakiguchi had probably known for sure when Kamikazari Middle School came up, or maybe he’d known from the start─the true identity of Mr. Businessman, that is.
Or perhaps I should say the identity of the mastermind behind it all.
“I’m not sure I’d call him my friend… But, um, yes, we’re together,” I mumbled. “Fellow members, I guess you’d say, or…”
How much of my identity had I given away? He knew I was Sakiguchi’s “friend,” and no matter how much I played the fool, it was obvious I went to Yubiwa Middle School.
“Heheh,” Fudatsuki stood up, apparently finished with me. “You must be concerned about what I plan to do to him.”
“C-Concerned, or… Um. Well… I thought you might throw us out…” I sputtered fearfully, although getting thrown out was an optimistic scenario (I’d honestly be happy if we managed to escape the gym in one piece).
“Throw you out? I wouldn’t dream of it,” Fudatsuki replied as politely as ever. “To the contrary─I’d like to offer the lucky fellow our special service.”