How long has it been...since the last time I felt this…sensation.
A minute or A year?
Brushing my heated cheek, I felt blood rushing under Roland's scar. Still haven't gotten used to this body yet I guess.
My old body back on Earth, despite sitting at the sweet ripe age of 27. Barely, could be considered healthy. Yet now that I'm in this alcoholic old vessel here, why do I feel so much vitality?
Could it be? Roland was actually stacked?
"What er yer waitin for ?"
"Oh, just counting my funds. Great way to calm one's nerves". I stick some coins in my front pocket.
The hostess–No, B-Hive owner's daughter, slightly annoyed, gripped tight on my forearm. She pulled me over to roulette. A cigar still hanging on her mouth, puffing clouds of magenta.
"Hey, don't get touchy yet lady" I freed myself from her grip.
The owner's daughter halted her strides, eyes locked on mine.
Time to find out more about this strange woman.
"Since we're betting big here, I think names are a courtesy you can afford". I stare her in the eyes.
"My name's Roland, since you're the heir of B-Hive. I assume your family name is Baal ?"
The heir smirks, she takes a drag before blowing the smoke…right in my face.
"Miata".
"The name's Miata". When the smoke clears, Miata's back has already turned. Signalling me to follow.
"Baal Miata huh…"
I'll put this name in the back of my head for now, becoming a shareholder comes first.
***
On arrival to the spiral, The gentleman dealer is now nowhere to be seen. Save for a few well-off guests and desperate gamblers, licking their lips at the sight of the leftover slots. The previously inflated crowd is quietly dispersing.
Miata and Roland arrived at the bidding table. With her coat laid down, her heels clicked rhythmically closer to the podium in the epicenter.
That was when every speck of light abruptly vanished.
The darkness was absolute for a heartbeat, a cold void that made my ears ring. Then, the light returned—not as a steady beam, but as a searing, violet-tinged glare that centered on The steaming maiden.
She raised her arm with a presentational flourish, fingers unfurling like hydrangeas gracing the warmth of the sun.
"Denizens of B-Hive! My dear denizens, have luck leaned on your back today? Roland has been hugging her all day! A first in our den's history—a Triple Spiral jackpot winner! "
All eyes were dead set on the stage, curiosity mixed in jealousy and a tinge of lust.
"With such an event, celebration is to be expected. Mr.Owner has decided to open a special game today".
beams of light cascade upon the Spiral, a wheel of flame rising atop the devilish roulette wheel.
"If we already had a tri-jackpot winner, why shouldn't we aim for a penta!? After all, aren't five stars better than threes ?"
The wheel of flames slowly rotates upwards, like a circular TV, two slots marked with an "O". along with that twelve other slots marked with a "P" and three remaining "C" gradually appear in the flame, mimicking the Spiral itself.
Miata points at the inferno and snaps. The wheel started spinning wildly
"With only 17 slots remaining, and 2 final jackpots! If Roland here flick his balls into those Orange holes, he'll be B-Hive's first ever Penta-Killer!".
The spinning wheel stops and tiny spheres like wil'o wisps clink calmly in the slots of O's.
"Oh and, if any of our esteemed guests wants a once in a lifetime chance. Today's maximum bet returns is 500%! Please ask the staff to record your bid at the corner".
Smiling cheerfully, Miata's Index moves back and forth at the crowd. "And remember, no refunds for losers 〜".
The flaming wheel fades into oblivion, leaving only her shadow casting over the den's wall.
"And for his prize, drum rolls please". slow rhythmic drums played in the background.
A smile blooms on Miata's lips as she clasps her palms. Sparks forming inside the inner crevice of those hands before emerging in the air.
It flew high like fireworks until it nearly hit the ceiling, before blooming into an explosive message.
"Half of B-Hive"
Miata's palms clasped again and the sparks ceased to shine, dissipating like it never was. In an instant light returned to the world once more.
Speechless were the staff, they couldn't come to comprehend why their owner made such a wager. But what is going behind the curtains is not theirs to bother, as the man in black signaled the resume of their work.
The guests, fed with one excitement after another, can't help but go rowdy. Bets flew through the roof on the outcome of Roland's after the game. At first only a handful of gold were thrown, soon enough the betting grounds grew to hundreds of platinum, a few staff even joined in on the fun.
However, most of them were certain of his fate.
Gazing at the unrest crowd of guests, Miata stole a glance at Roland whose wit seems intact despite the pressure.
The time has come for the little mouse to graze.
"My guests, steady your seats. The game is about to begin and Roland…are you ready ?"
"..."
"What is even happening right now ?" I muttered under my breath.
A few minutes ago, after that heir went on a yapping streak on stage. My hand won't stop shaking even after I tried gripping tightly until my palm were red.
Every time I blink, the world spirals into a myriad of shapes and colors. It's as if I'm staring at a kaleidoscope–No, my eyes were ripped out and replaced by a kaleidoscope.
"Hey Roland, are you going or not ?"
Not waiting for a reply, my tattered sleeves got dragged along by the cold grip of the woman in red.
"Who is speaking..who is it..?". I crash against a wall, trying my best to stabilize beneath the vortex in front of my eyes.
"Miata,...the name's Miata. Now follow me,...Mr. Mouse"
Miata's words are like strings, invading the very crevices of my cranium. Pulling me along with every step she took.
[WARNING !!!: EXTREME LEVEL OF NEUROTOXIN CIRCULATING IN YOUR SYSTEM]
[STATUS: SEVERE SENSORY DISTORTION / MOTOR FUNCTION IMPAIRMENT]
[FUCK! DID YOUR PARENTS NOT TELL YOU TO NOT TAKE RANDOM TREATS FROM STRANGERS!?]
I tried to read what was on the U.I, but all there is to my eyes are swirly red characters. They look like figures, dancing in an empty ball room. Squinting my eyes hard as I can at the void black screen, something amicable finally poked through my pupils.
[TURN BACK.]
…Huh? T–Tur..n
[TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.]
Before I could even decipher the words…
[TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.][TURN BACK.]
They…keep multiplying, Infinitely, endlessly. Building a wall of text to block my path.
I blinked, It is still there. I blinked again, its…getting closer
My brain couldn't help but notice the repetitive grammar. A wall of imperatives. No subject, just a command. My own mind was treating me like a dog."
I blinked.
"...Roland? Why do you keep stuttering yer steps?"Miata's voice was a low vibration, it goes…deeper.
"Don't keep the guests hanging alr? I got money to make here."
Instinctively, I followed the voice. My eyes, blocked by the cascading streams of crimson messages. Each step felt like I wasn't walking on my own legs. The floor keeps melting like cheese.
"What's yar problem eh?" A snapping sound echoes from beyond the wall of text.
"Cat got yer tongue?"
Another snap, this time I can hear it right next to me.
"Gosh, this is why I hate backstreet rats. Here, take these"
Something was shoved into my palms, it felt dense like steel yet as cold as mortis.
The ivories, dipped in chilled wine lay neatly on my palms…atleast that's what I could interpret. My vision is completely overwritten by this wall of crimson after all.
Wait this is…, my mind is..clearing?
Unbeknownst to Roland, the helper has been hard at work behind his back this entire time.
[PROTOCOL 93]
[NEUROTOXIN ANALYZED: THE RED SHOES]
[INITIALIZING NEUTRALIZATION]
[PROGRESS: 31%...]
[...WAKE UP…]
I closed my eyes, gripping hard on the ivories, I finally felt a sensation again. And…the red screen is also clearing out. I'm sure it tried to tell me something, but..remembering isn't what to do.
I have to win.
I have to win, just win. win and fix it all !!!
"Ladies and gentlemen! Our soon to be Penta-kill is here, and he's ready to get rollingggg!!"
Miata's voice drowns out the noises inside my head, why is it so calming?
The guests are cheering for me, even the staff…Is this truly it?
An agonizing metallic sound rang through the room, the Spiral now a vortex sucking in all light in my eyes. This must be the first miniboss of the game right!?
Such an easy target, I just have to..have to..
What do I have to do again?
My fingers opened. I didn't even remember deciding to throw.
The chilled ivory sphere left my hand not with a flick, but with a clumsy, heavy shove. the ball wobbled through the air, looking like it wouldn't even reach the table.
It struck the top of the "Wheel of Flame" with a sickening hiss. The crowd's cheers turned into a collective, held breath. The ball skidded across the brass rim, dancing on the edge of the abyss, defying physics as it fought the centrifugal force.
[PROGRESS: 42%...]
[NEURAL LINK STABILIZING...]
The ivory sphere spun and danced atop the slots like a shy young maiden teasing her suitors… before finally, with a heavy, wine-slicked thud, it came to a rest.
An Orange.
The den erupted. It was a cacophony of madness—a melody of guttural curses and ecstatic blessings that shook the very foundations of the B-Hive.Some can be seen cashing out on the bet before their luck "runs out".
"I knew that fucker would win, did you see him go? It was like his soul'd left, leaving only the body to act". a noble shouted, his face flushed as he wiped spilled wine from his chin with a silken sleeve.
"But…He doesn't seem to be aware?" the noble's laughter died in his throat as his gaze shifted. He wasn't looking at me anymore. He was looking at the shadow looming directly behind my shoulder.
She stood there, her cigar forgotten and smoldering under her boot, staring at the back of Roland's neck with eyes of solidified hatred. It wasn't just anger; it was the look of a predator realizing the "little mouse" had just bitten off her finger.
And yet..That was Roland's only lucky throw, after that fateful win.
His other eight consecutive throws were unplanned, clumsy attempts born of a fading fever dream. One by one, they clattered into the "P" and "C" slots. None could ever reach the final Orange.
Now only one remains.
[PROGRESS: 75%...]
>[MAJOR SENSORY FUNCTIONS RESTORED]
[EXPELLING 'THE RED SHOES' IN…]
[14 SECONDS]
At last, Miata hands Roland the final ivory ball.
She smirks, lighting one final cigar, assured of her victory.