Reroll: I Brought Sarcasm To A Sword Fight

Great. You've evolved into a Teletubby."

The absurdity of the moment struck everyone like a slap from reality. I glanced around. The mouths of the three other men playing dice with Raymond hung open wide enough for a dragon to roost in. Then I froze. But Raymond? He kept bouncing with manic joy, as if struck by divine luck. Moments later, he too stopped. The four of them locked eyes then fell to their knees in unison.

"Young master, please forgive us!"

The whole thing had gone from comical to surreal.

"Normally, no one interferes with gambling," I muttered, playing the part of someone far more mature than I looked. "But during work hours… that's a different matter."

I was barely taller than their belt buckles, but I tried to sound like I ran the estate.

Ah, I see! I thought to myself. This situation might actually work in my favor. An unexpected variable had just turned into an opening. One I could exploit.

I pointed at Raymond. "I remember you," I said. "I think I've seen you somewhere before."

Feigning recollection, I tilted my head slightly. Raymond, clearly trying to calculate a safe path through this mess, offered a tight lipped smile and nervously rubbed his hands. His fingers twitched like they were itching for dice again.

"Yes, you're right, young master. We met not even a year ago. Your father, the Lord brought you to a meeting and left you in my care for a short while as he reviewed some documents."

Is that right? I asked Mnex internally.

"Yes," he replied dryly. "But instead of watching over you, they spent the whole time discussing which underground gambling den to visit next."

I gave a slow nod. "Great." Then I added with mock curiosity, "So, why are you apologizing?"

They exchanged glances, clearly unsure of what to say.

I didn't drag the moment out. "After all, you've done nothing wrong. Just brightened up a dull afternoon with a few games on your break. And honestly, the game you were playing looks kind of fun. Please, continue. This is quite entertaining."

Raymond's eyes gleamed, the same way a starving dog lights up at the smell of roasted meat. He did the mental math and clearly liked what he calculated. Poor man. He thought luck had just kissed me. In truth, I was about to rob it blind.

They all got up together, and one of them hesitantly asked, "Is it really okay?"

Hook, line, and sinker.

It took a bit more coaxing, but eventually, they resumed the game.

I leaned in and whispered to Raymond, "If you bet on the number I tell you, you'll win. If you agree, just nod."

He paused then nodded so hard he looked like a bobblehead with a loose spring.

This time, someone else picked up the dice.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper just enough to make him feel special.

"That guy's been flicking from the same angle the entire game," Mnex chimed in, his voice full of disdain. "Predictable human. Next roll leans toward a two."

I passed along the prediction. "Two," I whispered to Raymond.

He placed his coins without hesitation.

The dice tumbled across the dirt like drunken beetles, then froze mid lurch.

Two dots.

We didn't react. But someone else did.

"Looks like the young master brought some luck to our Raymond!"

Laughter erupted. They chuckled and nodded, clearly amused. Everyone was laughing except Raymond and me.

Mnex couldn't hold himself back. His voice was dry enough to scratch parchment.

"If that was luck, then gravity is just a suggestion. Your so called 'luck' has a 14.2% deviation skewed by chipped ivory, bad posture, and let's be honest wishful thinking. But sure. Keep believing. I'll just be over here, handing out coins as the Tooth Fairy."

I wanted to share his snarky wisdom with the others, but of course, I couldn't. So I just smiled to myself and let the moment pass. It was too perfect.

One day, I really need to find a way to let Mnex speak for himself. The world's not ready, but I am.

We played four more rounds. Raymond won them all.

By the time the others sulked back to work, pockets lighter and spirits crushed, Raymond and I were the only ones left in the hallway.

"Young master..." Raymond began, his voice barely above a whisper. He checked to make sure no one was nearby. "How... how did you do that?"

His head was bowed. I couldn't even see his face.

He's not going to abduct me and force me into a life of gambling, is he?

"What you did was amazing!" he blurted out, his voice gaining strength with every word. "You must be a genius! People will kneel before you once they learn your true power! Kings will line up to witness your brilliance at the gambling tables! You could be the King of Gambling!"

Oh no. He's spiraling.

Should I slap him? Or would that just make it worse?

His eyes were wild, hands gesturing like he was preaching to an invisible crowd.

Raymond kept going, spinning a fantasy of wealth and worship.

"I like your new title, 'King of Gambling Henry,'" Mnex chimed in smugly. "Though let's be honest this was all me. You were just the puppet with the cute face."

"Alright, alright. Calm down," I said, raising both hands to cut the momentum. "That's enough."

Raymond blinked, like he'd woken up from a dream. "Ah, ahem… yes, I may have gotten carried away. I apologize. Thank you for your help, young master. But I should get back to work now. I wish you a good day."

He looked like he was trying to back away from a noble cobra.

He gave a small bow and began to slip away.

"Wait a second!" I called out.

He froze, mid step, one foot still in the air.

"Come back here."

He returned, clearly panicked.

"You're too tall. Kneel."

He dropped like a sack of guilt and regret.

I held out my hand. "You forgot to give me my share."

Without hesitation, he placed half of his winnings in my palm. But I didn't pull my hand away.

I let the silence stretch. Sometimes power isn't in what you say, it's in how long you wait.

"Bu-but, young master?" he stammered, staring at my still-extended hand.

I waited. He gave in and placed the rest of the coins in my palm.

"Glad we understand each other. I knew you were smart."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "Thank you, young master. If there's nothing else…"

I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"We're not done yet."

He blinked at me again.

"If you want your coins back, listen closely to what I'm about to say."

Just like that, his face lit up with renewed hope.

"Whatever you wish, young master!" Raymond beamed, practically vibrating with eagerness.

This man is far too easy to manipulate. If I asked him to rob a bank with me, he'd probably ask which door to kick first.

"Don't speak. Just nod or shake your head. Nod if you understand."

He nodded vigorously.

I continued. "As far as I know, you sometimes play in the city's underground gambling dens at night."

Another nod.

"Well then, if you want to make a big score... take me with you tonight…"

"No! Impossible, young master!" he blurted out. "If we're caught, the Lord will kill me!"

"I told you not to answer."

He shut up instantly.

I leaned in, lowering my voice. "My father left city while ago and won't be back until tomorrow. Most of the soldiers are scattered around the city. The mansion's practically empty, just a few guards on night duty. If we leave tonight, no one will notice."

"It's the perfect window. One night. One chance. That's all."

Raymond stared at me, eyes wide. The cogs in his gambler's brain turned, grinding against each other. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

He wasn't weighing risk, he was fantasizing about gain.

"We could make more coins tonight than you've ever made in your life."

That got him. He hesitated, then slowly nodded.

I grinned and patted his shoulder with my tiny hand. "When the servants withdraw to their quarters, wait for me by the back door. Don't be late."

I turned on my heel like a prince leaving court, footsteps light but certain.

Raymond remained kneeling on the floor, dazed and dreaming of gold. His lips moved silently, as if already bargaining with ghosts of fortune.

A long beat passed. Henry was already gone.

Then, as if waking from a trance, Raymond blinked and mumbled,

"Wait... what about my Lumars? You said you'd give it back…"

Raymond Bret Babbit, his name alone carried the faded echoes of nobility.

Once, his family held status and land. But that was before his father squandered their fortune chasing antiques, convinced he'd uncover some ancient treasure that would make them richer than kings.

Instead, he found only debt.

The weight of disgrace became too much. His father took his own life.

Soon after, Raymond's mother fell ill and passed, her heart broken from grief.

In the aftermath, Raymond sought refuge wherever he could. That search led him to a desk under the House of Godfrey, balancing ledgers with quiet precision.

But grief doesn't just vanish. Sometimes it festers. Sometimes it gambles.

With every spare coin, Raymond chased the dream of redemption, one big win that would bring honor back to the Babbit name.

He never found it.

"Your ability to think ahead like that without my help truly surprised me," Mnex said as I walked down the corridor.

"What surprises you? I can act intelligently whenever I want."

"That's what surprises me," he said, voice dry as old parchment. "Given your average intelligence, it's astonishing you managed this plan without crashing halfway through."

I rolled my eyes. "Forget that. I'll need you tonight. Most likely dice and card games, can you still help me?"

"What do you take me for? Probability based analysis is child's play to me. If there's a game, I can crack it. Blindfolded. With one circuit tied behind my back."

"Great. Also… I'll need the trick you used before, like how you sensed Robin and the others before they got close."

"If you're sneaking out, I'm your best shot. Trust me."

With you? No second thoughts.

With our roles clear, all that was left was Gareth.

I soon spotted him walking with Robin toward the guest room. After a brief nod, I turned to him and said casually, "Gareth, I need some things. Ink, paper, parchment. Lots of it. Quickly."

His expression flickered. For once, his polished exterior cracked. "Urgent? Materials? What for, young master?"

He glanced at Robin perhaps hoping for guidance but quickly remembered Robin was more puppy than advisor.

"You don't need to know. Just bring them to my room. I'm heading there now, I'm tired. Don't be late."

I turned to Robin. "I'm sorry we haven't had much time together. Tomorrow we'll do something fun. Maybe go explore the city."

"M'lord, it's fine. Please enjoy yourself," Robin replied with a small bow.

He deserved better than this hurried farewell, but I had work to do. And my tiny 3 years old body can't handle all of this, such rush, in single day.

As I walked away, both of them bowed behind me.

I walked straight to my room.

"By the way…" Mnex chimed in "I notice you're still keeping that old habit of yours calling it 'money' or 'coin'. You'll need a bit of education on currency."

"Can't you upload to my brain or something? I'm a bit tired you see."

"If I have to upload every little detail into your brain, what's the point of you, using it yourself?" His Mother Mode had apparently activated, I guess. And he didn't stop there. "Just this once, I'll allow you to get some rest, because your bodily functions are at an all time low."

Thank you. I guess.

When we arrived, Isolde was waiting at the door, her usual soft smile in place. "Young master, would you like a bath? I can prepare warm water."

"Ah, Isolde... I'm too tired today." I yawned. "I've asked Gareth for a few things. I'll wait for him, then sleep."

She nodded gently. "As you wish."

"It's almost evening, isn't it? Then I suppose you're free from duty for the day."

"Goodnight, young master."

"Goodnight, Isolde."

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

I lingered at the threshold, tense for just a heartbeat, half worried she might follow me in. But she didn't.

The room was quiet.

I lay down on my bed, my body already giving in to gravity.

Being three years old has its drawbacks, I thought. Especially when it comes to stamina.

I fell asleep instantly, trusting Mnex to wake me when the time came.

He was my alarm clock, battle strategist, and backup conscience all in one.