Chapter 6.3
Damn, my ears…
Why did she even ask me to play if she’s just going to backseat me like this?
Ignoring her, I pressed the Call button.
Call, call, call, call.
The ante was deducted, and the round went smoothly without anyone folding.
Looks like everyone thinks they’ve got a decent starting hand—no one’s backing out.
[Flop.]
After the first betting round, three community cards were dealt onto the table.
Heart Ace, Diamond 8, and Club 3.
Not bad luck. With my Spade 3 and the Club 3 on the table, I’ve already got a pair of threes.
This turn, I got a 3 one-pair.
“Oh, it’s a one-pair, one-pair!”
Damn it, stop distracting me!
Still, it’s far from a good hand.
Even though it’s a one-pair, it’s a low one, and I have no idea what hands my opponents are holding.
But statistically, unless someone started with an A or K, it’s not bad enough to fold just yet…
‘Bet.’
‘Call.’
‘Fold.’
I called as well.
This is manageable to follow for now.
After one full round, the Turn Card was revealed.
[Turn Card.]
“!”
Heart 3.
A triple this turn… not bad.
Surprisingly, triples aren’t a hand you see every day.
But as always with poker, here’s the annoying part: you can never know what hand your opponent has. It’s all a psychological game…
“I want to raise the stakes…”
With a triple on the turn card, it’s worth raising the stakes.
I need to see how aggressively the opponents play, but there’s no need to be overly cautious. Statistically, it’s in my favor.
‘Raise.’
‘Call.’
It wasn’t me—it was one of the opponents who raised.
The second player called.
I hesitated for a moment. Should I play it safe and check? Or just call? Or should I boldly raise as well?
‘The pot’s still small…’
Typically, if you don’t have much money to spare, you should aim for smooth gameplay with checks and calls.
But maybe it’s the adrenaline from playing after so long—I hit Raise.
“Hey, if you hit raise, it takes from your virtual balance, idiot!”
Since I had no remaining funds, my virtual balance dipped into the negatives, and additional credit was automatically added.
Is this like an overdraft account?
Whatever it is, my gut feeling hasn’t changed.
When I hit Raise, the opponent hesitated for a moment.
‘Call.’
Judging by the vibe… their hand doesn’t seem that strong either.
I can’t tell their playstyle yet, having only seen one round, but I’ve got a hunch.
[River Card!]
The fifth and final card was revealed.
Spade 5.
It’s over. At this point, the odds of the opponent having a hand stronger than mine are less than 10%.
It’s practically impossible based on the rankings.
Even if they started the turn with AA, they wouldn’t beat me.
‘Fold.’
In the end, the second player folded.
I immediately hit Raise.
For some reason, I could almost feel the opponent sighing in frustration.
‘Fold.’
[Player Win!]
With a small celebratory sound, the money in the pot smoothly transferred to my virtual balance.
The account that had dipped into the negatives quickly turned into a positive balance.
“Oh, you won, you won!”
Why is she making such a fuss…
Lee Ju-ha pressed even closer to me, her breast bouncing slightly as she leaned in.
Judging by her reaction, she really didn’t know anything about the game and was just playing based on hand rankings… No wonder she loses everything.
“I’ll play a bit more.”
With a slightly more comfortable seed money, I played two more rounds.
What I realized after two rounds:
The opponents are definitely not bots. They seem to be actual players, like Lee Ju-ha, participating in real time.
I also managed to pick up on their playstyles pretty quickly.
Everyone had an average, almost textbook style of play.
Except for Lee Ju-ha, who was the epitome of a sucker. It’s almost fascinating. Out of four players, only she was the absolute weak link.
Four people playing poker, and only one of them is a clueless loser… Is that even possible?
If these were typical delinquent types, at least one more should have been recklessly over-betting and making crazy plays.
By the fifth round.
The once loud and obnoxious Lee Ju-ha, shouting things like, “Hey, you’ve won over 100,000 won!” or “Should I get you some water? Want me to help you?” or “Ugh, I swear I’m gonna hook up with you tonight!” had gone completely silent. She was now just quietly watching.
The other three players, apart from me, had solid fundamentals.
But they couldn’t beat me.
Growing up following my dad to gambling dens and picking up skills by observing others, they didn’t stand a chance.
Luck was a factor, sure, but the gap in instinct, awareness, and psychological strategy was like heaven and earth.
To be precise…
It’s actually thanks to Lee Ju-ha.
Her ridiculous, brainless playstyle earlier probably threw the opponents off when I took over, leaving them confused by the sudden shift.
Sixth round.
Finally, one player left the game.
There was no visible reaction, but I could almost imagine them shouting, “Ah, damn it!” as they stormed off.
Now waiting for the game to start.
The remaining two players seemed to hesitate.
After a brief pause, both eventually decided to join the next round.
Seventh round.
Eventually, another player left, leaving just two of us.
After a moment of hesitation, I also decided to leave the room.
It didn’t seem like a good idea to keep playing with only two people. Plus, the fact that no new players were joining was making me uneasy.
I glanced at the virtual account balance in the top-right corner.
Some elephant emblem was mixed in, almost like an encryption.
I think I made around 300,000 won… or did I?
“How much does this mean I earned?”
“Three hundred thousand…”
Lee Ju-ha stared at me with a dazed, almost dumbfounded expression.
Then, out of nowhere, her expression turned serious. She grabbed me by the collar and said:
“Take it off right now, damn it!”