Las Vegas Suburbs, Midnight.
A small group of gamblers were playing a game of Texas Hold'em in a square table in private high stakes poker room.
The low chandelier shadowed, the smell of alcohol was still in the air, and creaking leather armchairs could be heard as the players moved.
An ultra-thin OLED television was running on the wall with the latest breaking news of CNN. The amount was slight, but the excited sharpness with which the anchor spoke was distinctly heard by all.
Breaking News--We have ascertained that the unique physical artifact-level object, Stone of Glory, of Glory Lords X, has been successfully taken by a mysterious person! According to reports, this exclusive product opens the hidden feature of the game, the Hero Awakening and enables the legendary ultimate quest. In the meantime, an unknown millionaire has given a mind-blowing $100 million bounty to get this so-called artifact.
There was a silence on the poker table.
A man in glasses put them on and rubbed-a-dub. "Stone of Glory? You mean that legendary item? I heard that you can insert it into the special gem slot in a VR device and your in-game character will experience a process of complete awakening- statistics explode. His voice was full of doubt and barely suppressed excitement.
The young man standing next to him with an air of Wall Street elite had a perfectly made Armani suit.
Clenching his buttocks, he smiled. You see, boys, the official prize on the accomplishment of that quest is ten million dollars already? That is sufficient to put pro gamers all over the world into frenzy. But when a billionaire is disposed to put down a hundred million... then the Stone of Glory is far more valuable than we imagine it is.
A blonde woman was lying indifferently against the table near the bar, swirling the ice in her cocktail. The Victoria secrects slip dress she wore went deep enough to effortlessly be alluring, and the counter she was at in the bar raised the fabric.
She laughed with her lips paled in a coy smile. "A hundred million dollars? Flea, that is not just filthy rich, that is simply throwing money down the drain. God bless us, only, I hope, that billionaire is a sexy one....
A burly man in the corner had swallowed a shot of whiskey in a single gulp and, throwing the glass in the table as the coach of a foot-ball team gets his team into a frenzy, broke the glass. You have all missed the actual headline! My sources are telling me about something even more significant than the bounty, whoever receives the Stone of Glory gets direct access to the secret R&D division of Ubisoft Fantasy to test their next-gen VR technology.
"Next-gen VR?" The man with glasses frowned.
The muscular man smiled in a cynical manner. "That's right. It is full neural integration, and no headsets and no controllers, word goes. Similar to The Matrix, straight consciousness immersion in the world of the game.
The air on the table became dead.
Everybody knew, that not only gaming would revolutionize with such kind of technology, had such technology existed. It might alter even the reality.
The words of the man were like a boulder thrown into a deep lake. Meanwhile, behind him, two men, dressed in black trench, and wearing sun glasses silently watched the dialogue taking place at the table.
But through the increasing tension Ethan Parker had managed to keep his head straight.
And as he leaned back in his chair he was lazily twirling a custom black-and-gold poker chip between his fingers, as the dim light fell upon its metallic lustre.
His black leather jacket matched perfectly with his aura, which was low-key, sharp and cool.
The glitter of his gray-green eyes upon the scattered chips and playing cards on the table, showed nothing, and told nothing.
Otherwise vacant, opposite him was Griffin Musk, lean and sharp-eyed, shuffling two piles of chips, with practise, down to the clink, and the silence was filled by his rhythmic clanking.
At intervals, Griffin would look at the TV screen and the words stone of glory would be displayed decently. There was a knowing smirk in his lips which dragged slowly.
The silence had been interrupted at last by someone.
Hey, Ethan, what are you thinking of this?
The fingers of the dealer moved rapidly in and out of the deck, the shuffle was balancing and even--as the summer before a storm.
The cards had not even been broken. The small talk... or the probing could still be done...
Ethan raised his eyes at the word Ethan, and a slight and nearly indifferent smile came to his face.
"What do I make of it?" His voice was rather informal and almost indifferent. One out of three hundred million players in the world wins the game of only Stone of Glory? That's some insane luck."
He hesitated and tapped his poker chip on the table, and glanced around the faces. Then his voice fell somewhat, with a finish under the indifference.
"But luck is one thing. Do they really rightfully deserve the Stone of Glory? It is another thing altogether. Should I find myself in the company of this so-called so-called lucky winner... I would like to make a bet with them.
Griffin scoffed as Ethan continued talking.
But it was not loud, and in the tense silence of the poker table, all could clearly hear it. He lowered his head and he smirked an expression of disdain with his lips, evidently not impressed with what Ethan was saying.
However, he did not reply right away. He had his cards to consider--since it was he of all this table who fully realised the true worth of the Stone of Glory.
And yet, he was frustrated by Ethan more than he would have been willing to admit; by that easy arrogance of his.
Griffin finally raised his eyes and the voice, which was low, but touched with challenge. "Ethan," he said. "Feeling lucky tonight, huh? Better stakes--loser takes off his clothes and wears his boxers on his head and crawls out of this joint like a dog.
He pushed a pile of blood-red chips into the middle of the table before anybody could make any reply. The clatter of the chips hitting each other was so sharp the sound cut through the heavy air like a gunshot.
The tension was on at once, and the burden of the bet was upon their breast.
The dealer at that point tapped the deck a few times, the sharp audio penetrating the atmosphere.
"Shuffle."
The word made them all wake up with a jolt of attention on the cards and the chips. The television monitor was already flipping to advertisements and the hot debate on the issue of the Stone of Glory was briefly shelved.
However, the actual subject of the table was no longer centered on the news.
It was upon the two men who had hardly spoken, Ethan and Griffin.
This was not all about money.
Perhaps... it had more at stake than they knew.
...
One Hour Later
Only two players remained in the poker table, namely Griffin and Ethan.
The other ones had been wiped out in the incessant onslaughts of high-stakes gambling, where you must either fold or lose all.
The table now was an oasis of war, and was stacked with hundreds of multi-colored chips, each of which bore the load of victories and defeats. The air was full of whiskey and cigar smell, so heavy that it was like taking steam of liquid tension.
They had a crowd of people surrounding them, and who were standing with bated breath, and could not dare to lose the smallest movement.
It was no longer a poker game anymore.
This was a duel, which can transform the whole situation.
"Gentlemen, are you ready?"
The voice of the dealer was gravelly and low but that mere query gave a wave of adrenaline rush among the spectators.
Skilled hands the dealer turned up the Flop:
King of Spades. Nine of Hearts. Three of Diamonds.
The three cards fixed the attention of all.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Griffin drew a deep breath; his shrewd eyes were searching across the table. He broke the silence with his rich drawling Southern accent.
"Alright, boys. I--one million dollars in the pot--openers.
His chips slamming on the table when he hit, were like a war-drum in commencement of a battle.
Ethan smiled slowly and smilingly. Something hard and cold and cogitant flashed in his gray-green eyes.
He pulled a conveniently huge stack of chips out of his tower, selected a neat pile and thrust it forward solely with a degree of deliberate ease.
"One million? Cute. Raise--two million."
The crowd was trembling with some kind of murmur.
You have to bet this heavily on the flop? That's insane."
Somebody made a laugh in their heart. "Now this is poker. This is what sets the blood afar a-flowing.
There was a change of the electricity in the room--it was no longer a game.
The eyes in which Griffin looked were gleaming with challenge. He rose his bet two times in cold, sharp tones.
Then we shall have four million.
The atmosphere grew heavier and the burden of chips on the table seemed to be crushing some nerves of each of us.
But Ethan?
He remained as easy-minded as ever.
His smirk was intensified, and his fingers were tapping on the felt. Then without ever looking away, he casually pressed up another stack.
"Alright. Eight million."
...