In the heart of the Eurubian continent, within the United States of Sahelta, a bustling casino in a small town was packed with gamblers, their faces filled with excitement and greed. "Seven o'clock, all in!"
The once lively casino turned eerily quiet, as if a bomb had just gone off, sending waves of tension through the room.
"I’m in too!"
"Move over! Let me place my bet!"
The crowd surged forward, stacking their chips on the table, all betting on the number seven.
Unlike the gamblers around him, who were red-faced with excitement, Larry remained calm, his sharp gaze fixed on the sealed dice cup sitting on the table. To others, this was just a game of chance, but for Larry, the outcome was already set in stone.
The dealer, a woman with a pretty face, held the dice cup tightly in her hands. Though it was light, it felt unbearably heavy at that moment. Her palms were sweaty, and she could barely bring herself to lift the cup. A small mountain of chips piled up on the number seven spot, an amount that could turn the entire casino upside down.
The dealer swallowed nervously. She knew her career was over. No, it was worse than that—this casino belonged to a gang. Losing this much money could cost her more than just her job; it could cost her life. Her eyes, filled with desperation, darted toward Larry. The handsome young man before her had won eight consecutive rounds—each time guessing the exact dice total instead of playing it safe with high or low bets.
The odds of such a streak were astronomical. Was he cheating? She couldn’t tell, and that terrified her. But Larry didn’t seem concerned in the slightest. He leaned back casually, letting the dealer stall for time.
However, the restless gamblers around him weren’t as patient. "What the hell are you waiting for? Open it already! I want my winnings!"
Some were already rolling up their sleeves, their aggressive glares making it clear they weren’t afraid to get physical. Just then, a voice rang out from the back of the crowd. "That's enough! The casino’s closed for the night!"
Heads turned toward the speaker—a stocky middle-aged man with a thick stubble and a cigar dangling from his lips. He looked like he had walked straight out of a gangster movie, and his broad frame was flanked by several burly men in suits.
This was Vance, the town’s notorious gang boss. Seeing him, some gamblers quietly slipped away, but most of them, blinded by greed, refused to leave. They saw this as their golden opportunity—until the guards pulled pistols from their jackets.
In an instant, the rowdy gamblers turned into meek sheep, shuffling out of the casino without another word. Soon, the once-crowded hall was empty except for Larry and the dealer, who looked relieved to have backup. With a trembling hand, she finally lifted the dice cup.
One. Three. Three. Seven.
The room fell into a tense silence. Vance walked up to the table, cracking his knuckles with a menacing grin. "Kid, you’ve got guts causing trouble in my casino." He motioned for the dealer to step back, his beady eyes gleaming with hostility.
Larry raised an eyebrow and pointed at the massive stack of chips. "So, you’re not planning to pay up?"
Vance burst into laughter. "You think you can just walk out of here with the money? Not happening. And you won’t be walking out at all!"
At his signal, the guards surrounded Larry, pistols raised and aimed at him. But instead of fear, Larry’s lips curled into a smirk. "What the hell are you smiling at?" Vance snapped, irritated by Larry’s calm demeanor.
Larry leaned forward slightly, his voice dripping with mockery. "I’m laughing at you. You’re not big enough. Just a small-time thug, and you’re already losing your cool?"
Vance’ face darkened in anger. “You’re Cheating! We won’t Pay you!”
"Since you're not playing fair, I won’t hold back either. Gardevoir!" Larry replied back without a ounce of fear.
Vance blinked, confused. "What the hell is a Gardevoir?" Before he could react, a wave of pink aura pulsed from Larry's body, invisible to the naked eye but carrying an immense force.
The guards, who were brimming with confidence just moments ago, dropped like flies. Blood oozed from their eyes, noses, and mouths, their lifeless bodies collapsing onto the floor with a series of heavy thuds. A chill ran down Vance' spine. His cigar slipped from his lips as he stared at the scene in horror. "W-what the hell are you... a monster?!"
In his panic, his bulky frame lost balance, and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. His layers of fat jiggled uncontrollably, and the sheer impact of the fall seemed to jolt him back to his senses. Reality hit him hard. He was a somewhat influential figure in this town, and he'd heard plenty of rumors about people with terrifying abilities. It finally dawned on him—he had messed with someone way out of his league. Larry leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "So... can I take my money now?" His voice was lighthearted, but to Vance, it felt like the devil himself was whispering in his ear.
"Y-yes! Of course!" Vance stammered, his voice trembling. "Sir, please... take as much as you want. Just... spare my life!" Tears mixed with snot ran down his face as he fell to his knees, pleading desperately.
Larry looked down at him with an amused expression. "Oh? Take as much as I want? Then how about... all of it?"
Vance' face froze, and his mind began racing. Greed and fear fought for dominance inside him. He wanted to hold onto at least some of the money, but the terror of ending up like his guards was too much.
Larry chuckled softly. "Oh, and if you’re thinking of holding back even a little... don’t. I can tell." His sharp gaze pierced through Vance, sending a shiver down the man's spine.
A few minutes later, Vance returned, carrying two large boxes stuffed with cash. His face was drained of all color, as if he had just lost everything he ever cared about. Larry tapped his fingers on the table and asked casually, "One more thing—how soon can you get me an ID?"
In this world, an identity card was crucial. Without it, he couldn’t board airships, travel freely, or even apply for the Hunter Exam. Vance could be useful for more than just money. "A-about a week," Vance stammered, drenched in sweat, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Larry studied him for a moment, then smiled. "Alright. You have a week. I'll be staying at the hotel next door. Let me know when it's ready."