Casino Wizard

The Royal Palace

In a secluded annex at the farthest corner of the palace grounds, an urgent voice rang out.

“Your Highness, it’s about the gambling ban I mentioned earlier.”

“I already know, Baron Bove. I know that the one behind your sudden interest in gambling regulations—despite valuing card games more than your own life—is Hilde Rakae from the Dragon Kingdom.”

“I was deceived by that woman as well! We must take action…!”

“I wonder… action for whose sake? Yours?”

A pleading voice. A calm response.

“Your Highness?”

“I suppose I was a fool, even to my friends. Who should I blame?”

“…Ah.”

“Leave.”

The conversation ended, and silence returned to the annex.

Amidst the stillness, the owner of the annex idly turned the pages of a book, as if nothing had happened.

Yet, for some reason, the pages would not turn.

****

The Sudden Closure of the Hyden Casino

The customers of the casino, now faced with its abrupt shutdown, had two choices.

Quit gambling.

Or find a new playground.

Some chose the former—just a few.

“Mom, let’s take this chance to quit gambling… okay?”

“I only play at the 10-dai tables.”

“It’s not about the amount. Dad works himself to the bone at the tannery to earn that money. How can you—”

“Fine! I’ll quit! Is that what you want?”

Families pleaded, urging their loved ones to return home and leave gambling behind.

And some gamblers, at least on the surface, agreed to quit. How long they would actually keep their promise, no one knew.

“Are you serious?”

“I said I’d quit.”

But not everyone was willing to let go.

Most chose to continue gambling.

Somehow. Somewhere.

…

A certain group rejoiced at this turn of events—the street swindlers of the night market.

“Come on, come on! One in three chance! Just one in three!”

“Right!”

“Right? Oops! You lost!”

The scam was simple.

Two decoys, one swindler.

A ball hidden under one of three cups. A simple guessing game for bets.

If no one bet, the decoys would place bets themselves, luring in real victims. Then, through subtle encouragement, the stakes would increase.

Few ever won.

“Left!”

“Left? Alright! Here we go… oh no, it’s not there.”

“What!? I saw it!”

A sponge-made, soft ball. A sleight of hand to subtly shift its position. Decoys disrupting anyone who got too close to noticing the trick. It was nearly impossible not to fall for it.

Just another night at the market.

The only difference?

Some of the displaced casino gamblers had found their way here, searching for an alternative to roulette and big wheel.

But street swindling was no roulette.

“Another loss! Too bad.”

“Something’s off.”

“What’s off is your gaze, sir. Too scary! Should we just refund you?”

“No, that’s not—”

Fleeced and fleeced again.

Most muttered about their bad luck and walked away.

But not everyone.

“This is a scam.”

A foot stomped down on a cup.

The voice belonged to Lorenzo, the guild master of the capital’s bakery guild.

The King of Bread.

A regular in the VIP room at Hyden Casino.

He had once taken pride in being the third person to enter the VIP room when it first opened, right behind Marquis Tripolia and the Tower Lord of Buma.

Not a noble, but someone no one could ignore—the representative of the bakers who fed the capital.

But right now, he was nothing more than an angry mark, cheated by street swindlers.

The swindler sneered. To him, Lorenzo was just another clueless merchant.

“Mister, did you just call this a scam?”

“It is. A con.”

“Watch your words. Got any proof?”

“If I touch the ball, I—”

“Why would I let you touch my business property? Are you just trying to start trouble? And even if the ball is soft, so what? This is all for fun, yet here you are, ruining the mood.”

“No, I—”

The smooth talk overwhelmed Lorenzo, pushing him back.

The swindler didn’t miss his chance.

“Is this how a customer behaves?”

“…What nonsense.”

“Mister, you looking for a fight?”

Lorenzo fell silent.

No one around him backed him up.

Instead, they watched, amused, as if waiting for a fight to break out.

At first, Lorenzo didn’t understand what was happening.

Then he realized.

‘Right. This is reality.’

A nameless street stall.

A swindler with no ties, no accountability.

And indifferent bystanders, watching someone else get scammed like it was a show.

If he reported it to the city guards, the swindlers could get fined or flogged for illegal gambling, but…

“Go ahead, call the guards. See if they care.”

“…Damn.”

The guards wouldn’t bother with this.

And the swindlers knew it.

“Now, how about compensation? You’ve been disrupting my business.”

In the end, Lorenzo was forced to hand over 2 silver coins.

He stared at the grinning swindlers in dismay.

Humiliation, frustration, shame.

And oddly enough—nostalgia.

For Hyden Casino.

‘I miss it.’

Lorenzo had once had complaints about the casino.

Too much trouble happening. Too many fights with the upper class. Hyden, who had no noble blood, making obscene amounts of money.

But now, scammed and humiliated, he understood.

The casino’s value. Its absence.

“We need the casino.”

Perhaps as much as they needed their bakeries.

But before that, there was something to take care of.

Retribution.

The swindlers had to pay.

Lorenzo went straight to the nearby bakery guild branch.

And issued a stern order.

“Gather the apprentices.”

At his command, ten apprentice bakers rushed forward.

Young workers hardened by labor, following their guild master without question.

“Wreck it.”

“Yes, sir!”

The apprentices swiftly dismantled the gambling setup.

“What the—”

“Get them!”

“Who the hell—AARGH!”

It took less than three minutes.

The stall overturned, the gambling tools destroyed, the swindlers and their lackeys beaten and scattered. The apprentices, their strength honed from kneading dough, easily overpowered them.

The scene ended in an instant.

Swindlers groaned on the ground.

“Good job.”

Yet Lorenzo’s face remained grim.

Because wrecking a stall wouldn’t bring the casino back.

Tomorrow, and the day after, and perhaps forever—there might be no casino.

Why did it feel so empty? So sad?

As if drawn by an unseen force, Lorenzo found himself heading toward the casino.

He had to go.

…

ust before the original opening time—right before noon. In front of the casino.

“Huh?”

“You’re here. Take a seat.”

There were already people gathered before the bakery guild master arrived.

Unable to enter the casino, a crowd had gathered under the awning outside.

Some sat on benches, while others, lacking seats, squatted uncomfortably. A few had completely sprawled out, sitting as if they had given up.

They were all gamblers—former casino patrons.

Even some VIPs were among them.

“Marquis, Your Excellency… What brings such an esteemed person like you here…?”

“For the same reason as you.”

The Marquis of Tripolia sat there, his face gaunt, and standing beside him like aides were Baron Ebola and Baron Budici, both court nobles.

Unlike the guild master, who was a commoner, these men were high-ranking figures… but in the VIP room, they had all been friends. Laughing together, drinking together, complaining together.

And now, they grieved together.

As they all sat in silent regret, the Marquis of Tripolia finally spoke.

“I visited three legal gambling halls.”

“My Lord…?”

“One wouldn’t let me take my winnings. Another had filth rolling around on the floor, and no one bothered to clean it up. …And at the third, prostitutes were openly soliciting inside the gambling hall. They’d eye people’s wallets and steal from them when they got the chance.”

The others nodded. They had all had similar experiences.

One by one, people began sharing their own horror stories.

Complaints about drunk dealers handling the tables, stories of winning at Hold’em only to have over half their earnings taken in fees and kickbacks… The bakery guild master even shared how he had been scammed by a street hustler.

“Casino… still ain’t open? I lost everything.”

Just then, a gambler appeared, limping, his face swollen and bruised.

No one asked what had happened to him. They all knew too well what gambling outside the casino was like.

“We have to do something.”

No one disagreed.

They needed the casino.