IC C7

Chapter 7

“Are you okay?”

“Bad luck there, Xie Wei.”

Colleagues slipped over to console him. Unlike the main floor, in the High Limit Zone chatter was discouraged, but given the incident, everyone had something to say.

“That patron is infamous. Whenever he spots a handsome man, he hits on them like that. Especially the floor staff.”

“Not just cage staff—he does it to dealers too. One bar employee even went up to a room with him once, apparently.”

So he was a chronic offender. Siwon pressed his temples with a throbbing scowl.

“Shouldn’t he be banned from entry, then?”

“That’s easy to say. He’s VIP. And…”

One coworker leaned in close and whispered.

“They say he’s the director’s son.”¹

“…Ha.”

“A walking bomb.”

The colleague smiled bitterly and pulled back.

Incredible. So this notorious pest had zeroed in on him, barely a week into his High Limit Zone assignment?

He had expected his downfall to come via discovery as a spy, or failure to adapt. This? He hadn’t imagined. Instead of wishing ruin upon that degenerate, he needed to worry about his own misfortune—and how to handle him.

Scowling at the youth’s back as he sauntered toward the game tables, Siwon thought grimly.

The very next day, the same youth—Peng Tao—appeared. At the sight of him, Siwon swore inwardly. He had hoped the brat would pass him by. Instead, Peng Tao walked directly to his counter.

“Hello.”

“I’m not fine. Xiao Wei, do you know what happened yesterday? Lost everything in thirty minutes. Damn it, the money’s whatever, but ending so pathetically? Too much, right?”

Peng Tao launched into his rant without pause. Perhaps Siwon’s silent prayer for his ruin had indeed worked a little. He felt smug satisfaction inside but responded politely, per the manual.

“I see. That’s unfortunate.”

“It’s not losing that bothers me. Who cares about that pocket change. But a casino should be fun. If the game itself isn’t exciting, then what’s the point? Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, you’re right.”

Of course, he didn’t agree at all. The “pocket change” Peng Tao referred to was equivalent to nearly half a year of Siwon’s wages back in Korea. If it took losing that much to enjoy oneself, Siwon would rather live bored for a lifetime.

“Ahh, whatever. Today will be different.”

Peng Tao slapped a wad of bills onto the tray and proclaimed boldly,

“All in tens!”

“Yes.”

Siwon collected the cash. Its weight in his hands made him pause. He had never expected to feel money weigh like a stack of books or a file folder.

How many tens of thousands of patacas was this? And to blow it all in a night of gambling? Siwon hadn’t felt the pang of financial envy in a very long time. Yet, the sensation of deprivation rose sharp inside. If he had such money, he would never waste it at gambling.

“Here is 100,000 patacas, exchanged into 10,000‑denomination chips, as requested. Please confirm.”

“Perfect! Watch me now, Xiao Wei. I’ll be back after having some fun.”

Snatching the chips, Peng Tao strutted off, elated.

Siwon simply hoped he would stay gone.

“Are you dealing these cards properly or not? What kind of shuffle was that?!”

An hour later, uproar arose in one corner of the hall. At the familiar voice, Siwon glanced reflexively.

As expected, it was him. Sitting at the table, Peng Tao shouted.

“And what about you idiots—what, did you learn poker yesterday? If you don’t know the rules, get out. Or at least shut up and watch. What’s with asking about the rules every five minutes?!”

The High Limit Zone’s calm atmosphere cracked under his boorish yelling. Two guards rushed forward to intervene.

“Sir, please calm yourself and speak more politely.”

“Wouldn’t your blood boil too, if you had to play poker with brain‑dead monkeys? Do you know what brought me here? Certainly not this trash of a table!”

His abuse didn’t go unanswered. One player shot to his feet and retorted.

“Why take it out on us? If you’ve lost, accept it with grace!”

“Hah! If the dealer had handed down the cards properly, this wouldn’t have happened. Isn’t this a setup?”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir. But the game is controlled fairly—tampering is structurally impossible…”

“Then is it structurally possible that every table I go to is filled with idiots?”

“You little brat, say that again!”

“Calm down—what does it matter, you’ve already won the round. Come on, let’s not ruin our time over this.”

Dealer, guards, players—everyone’s voices added to the din. Chaos mounted, until finally the other players abandoned the table altogether. Not out of fear, but out of disgust—better to walk away from filth.

“Sir, why not call it a night and return another time? We’d be glad to provide even better service for your next visit.”

The manager himself stepped in, but Peng Tao only swelled with stubbornness.

“Forget that. Bring me the best dealer you’ve got. I won’t leave on such a sour note—I need a proper game.”

“Very well. Please wait a moment—we’ll escort you to a private room.”

A mess—like an open market rather than a luxury casino floor. Yet since it wasn’t his problem, Siwon mostly found it darkly amusing. Until—

“And as a player, bring that handsome guy at the counter.”

Peng Tao jabbed a finger. Immediately the spectators’ gazes followed. And the direction he pointed—landed squarely on Siwon.

He jolted, as though struck by an arrow. Surely, he must have meant someone else?

No. The counter wasn’t manned by him alone. And he wasn’t even that handsome…

But his fragile hope broke apart when the manager confirmed,

“The handsome employee at the counter… do you mean Xie Wei?”

“Yeah, him.”

“Apologies, but he isn’t a dealer and hasn’t been trained at the tables. He’s also on shift currently.”

“What does that matter? Casinos are supposed to serve their guests. Is that too much to ask?”

It was shameless beyond measure. Siwon’s temples throbbed again. Still, surely the manager would decline this―

“…Understood. We will honor your request.”

The manager, smiling warmly in his professional mask, threw Siwon to the wolves.

At that moment, Siwon understood: no matter how strict or orderly the High Limit Zone, all those rules meant nothing in the face of a rich, connected nuisance.

Not that he agreed easily.

Dragged toward the private room, he clutched at the manager, protesting he didn’t know how to play.

“And I don’t even have chips. How can I gamble in the High Limit Zone?”

“No concern. The customer has kindly offered to lend you his chips.”

“…So I’ll have to repay him if I lose?”

“He said he’ll cover everything.”

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we have some proof on record?”

“Would Peng, the director’s son, nitpick? If he did, the casino would cover your losses. Think of it this way—you get to play with someone else’s money. Isn’t that good, Xie Wei?”

Not in the least. For Siwon, simply touching that “game” was repellent. Still, he argued hopelessly.

“I really can’t. As I said, I don’t even know any games.”

“Just keep up appearances. The dealer will guide play anyway.”

Whoever that dealer was, poor soul. Condemned to face this pest. Of course, the unluckiest person of all was himself—forced to sit at the table.

Resignation crept in. The moment Peng Tao had pointed, he’d known this was coming.

If he stood firm, they wouldn’t restrain him to the chair. But the guest was VIP. Refusal would shame him, and on that pretense, his manager could easily mark him down for “insubordination” and cut him loose. Then his deal with Baeksa‑pa would collapse in ruins. He had no choice.

“I know it’s rough, but do your best. I’m counting on you, Xie Wei.”

They had reached the private room doors. The manager’s reassuring pats on his shoulder felt more like shoves into the abyss.

With the pall of a condemned man, Siwon stepped inside.

The first sight—the rectangular gaming table. And at its center, standing sleek in his dealer’s uniform…

“….”

Lei Jun, eyes meeting his, smiled faintly.