Godfather's System

I glanced around innocently as I took note of the corridor. It was different from the upper floor. Unlike the singular corridor that connected to huge rooms, the corridor split into three, implying that the rooms were smaller — and likely less luxurious as well.

The walls were still filled with many weapons, although they looked less decorative and more functional, that was all I was able to get as I limited myself not to look too suspicious.

"Now, it's just a friendly game, just a few denicas to make things more fun, nothing more," their leader muttered as he removed his helmet, revealing an ordinary, middle-aged face, with dirty blonde hair and a large nose as his only distinguishing features.

"Maybe a bit more than a few denicas, Captain," said one of the soldiers — black-haired and younger, he revealed as he removed his helmet. "One or two skill stones wouldn't be too much. I wouldn't say no to an advanced sword skill."

Their leader looked dissatisfied with the idea. "Don't push it," he commanded.

"But—" the soldier responded, which was all he was able to say before the leader interrupted.

"Silence," he ordered, and I felt another mental pressure. It was very soft and subtle, much more difficult to detect when it was not directed at me, like a warm gust of wind rather than an intense pressure.

The soldier fell silent, but that did little to prevent his clear frustration. The other soldiers looked between him and the leader, their distaste clear, split between two.

Giving me two other pieces of critical information. Resisting the impact of that mental weight might be rarer than I expected — but not impossible, considering I didn't see Falael using it on Toross — and I was not the only one who could recognize it being used.

Interesting.

"Don't worry, Captain," I said, hoping that the term was generic enough to be complementary regardless of the user. "It's just a friendly game. I'm sure the brave soldiers protecting me wouldn't trick me."

"We certainly won't," another soldier answered with a shark-like smirk, showing that they would very much be happy to trick me, their desire to hoodwink a newbie enough to suppress their desire. "You have played Bhecna before, right?" The other soldiers exploded in mocking laughter. "What?" he said, confused.

"Well, it's the part about coming from another world," I suggested.

"Yeah, but it's Bhecna, everyone knows that," he defended himself, though that didn't prevent him from looking ashamed.

"Maybe, why don't you explain the rules? It might be that we have different rules back in my world," I said, giving him an exit.

"Of course, great hero," he said, though his tone was still sarcastic as he used my title, confirming that, whatever that hero title was, its absurdity was sufficiently known. "Now, the cards. A deck of Bhecna has a hundred and twenty cards, split across six suits: Holy, Arcane, Necrotic, Elemental, Control, and Void; representing the six main magical energies —" one started.

"Nonsense, daring to put all elements in one category like that," another soldier grumbled.

"It's the church doctrine —" the other soldier started, only to be interrupted by their captain once more.

"Enough, let's not bore our great hero with theological debate, especially not when we are currently the guests of an archbishop," the captain reminded, a message that was reinforced by the same weight, then turned toward me. "It would be if you don't mention this little argument to anyone, great hero," he said, turning that weight to me.

"Of course not," I nodded enthusiastically as if I were completely affected by the pressure, even as I absorbed every little information they were spilling out, I was glad that they were careless enough not to understand the significance of their idle ramblings.

I focused on the rest of the explanation, memorizing the rest of the rules. The game was slightly complicated, somewhere between poker and blackjack, with very limited strategic elements involved. Essentially, everyone was handed a hand of ten, and three cards opened to the center of the deck. Everyone put cards into the middle as they wished, facing up or down as they wished.

The objective was to get close to the fifty without actually exceeding it, and people played sequentially. There was a rising (?) element to the game as well. The first bet was a denica, and every time someone placed a bet, they could choose to raise the amount, and the following player had to match at least that amount. The game ended when no one wanted to play, the last one to play to the stack winning that stack.

Though some interesting rules allowed players to challenge the deck if they thought the hand the last player had played made it surpass fifty, someone else could take the risk and challenge him. If that happened, everyone else received their bets back, and the challenged player paid double the last bet if the stack actually surpassed fifty — and vice versa if the opposite was true.

"A complicated game, but nothing I can't handle," I said after I made them explain the rules three times. I had already understood the rules the first time — as a man who owned at least one casino and oversaw many more illegal gambling operations in my life, understanding a game wasn't particularly challenging — but selling the impression of a slightly feeble man, with more interest than capability.

In other words, the perfect mark for them to fleece at their heart's content.

"Good, then let's start with a practice round, to make sure you warmed up properly." With that, a round was played, with almost no idle chatter in between moves other than their comments. I might have never played this game before, but it didn't take much to realize they were playing very poorly.

"Wow, it is easy," I muttered as I challenged the last stack, only to win it as well, giving me two out of three stacks. A spectacular victory based on the constraints of the game — and also, a very poor example of being a card shark.

It was one of the most standard tricks of the conman's playbook to raise the courage of the newbie by giving him a few hands at first, building up his confidence so that they didn't pull back before leaving a considerable part of their fortune on the table, though, usually, they were much more practiced on that aspect.

Their captain didn't look particularly interested in playing the game, but the other soldiers were much more enthusiastic — whether that was about their relative wealth or sense of responsibility, I failed to truly guess.

"Good, let's start with a few denicas. Captain, why don't you give our great hero some starting funds so he can play properly."

The captain frowned, but that was his only reaction as he passed a large pouch, one that weighed about a pound.

"Here's a hundred denicas, a decent start," he said as he looked at the soldiers like he challenged them to say something. They looked a bit disappointed, but not enough to actually say anything, giving me a good impression of the value of the money. It was decent, but not too impressive based on their job.

"I don't think I'll need any more," I enthusiastically commented as I shuffled in my seat, but the captain stood up.

"I'm going for a patrol, don't make too much of a mess," he warned his soldiers before he has gone, clearly not wanting to be a part of the game.

"Stuck up nobles," one of the soldiers whispered, though that was the kind of whisper that didn't care who heard. I acted like I failed to hear it, focusing on the dealer's fingers instead. Unlike the first dealer, his fingers moved with an alacrity that surpassed a professional dealer by a great margin — yet his relatively poor technique suggested that it was not due to practice.

My best guess is the stats. Still, I just watched them quickly deal the hand and we started the first proper round.

"Let's start small," I said after the first two players played at the center, trying to sound smug as I put five denicas to the pile in the middle and a turned-up card, an eighteen of Arcane.

"Very good play, sir," said one of the soldiers and they avoided the pile, doing his best to hide his smile — and failed to do so. Instead, I turned my attention toward the next stage, which started a short, yet intense round, followed by the others before the remaining cards were discarded, and shuffled into another set of cards.

"As I previously said, it's easy," I said, pushing my chest out, giving my best impression of a gullible mark as I looked at the small pile of silvers in front of me. Interestingly, it was not actually coined but pure metal, each melted and cut into pieces of various weights, starting from quarter-denica, which was about a gram and a half, to a ten-denica piece, weighing about sixty grams.

The lack of coinage had some interesting implications about the world, but rather than delving into them, I grabbed the next set of cards, examining my hands to come up with a new round of play.

"Are you ready to lose?" I declared arrogantly as I raised my cards against my face, curious how much information I could make them spill before their captain returned.