"Another glass, please."
The bartender, upon hearing the request, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured a small glass.
He looked at the flamboyantly dressed man before him and asked, "Handsome, drinking like this isn't the way to go. Who comes to an entertainment city and just chugs booze?
If you really want to drink, head to the basement level—there's a proper bar down there.
Or…" The bartender leaned in close to the man's ear. "Since you've had so much, why not try your luck? Liquor gives courage to the timid!"
"Hehe, not a bad suggestion." The man grinned. "By the way, what's your name?"
"Me? Why do you need my name?"
"Well, if I win big, I can find you and share some of the profits!"
"Huh?" The bartender scratched his head. "Is that okay?"
"If you don't want to say, no worries. Just remember my name—I'm Aventurine."
With that, Aventurine tossed a chip into the glass.
…
Reeking of alcohol, Aventurine stumbled to a crowded gaming table.
As he approached, the people seated instinctively made room for him.
Hic. Aventurine let out a burp and said to the dealer, "I'm betting! I want to bet!"
The dealer gave a slight smirk.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but we require chips before you can place a bet."
Before the dealer finished, Aventurine pulled out a black-gold card.
"Is this enough? Member name: Aventurine… Hurry up, I want in on this round."
"Alright!" The dealer nodded, then barked at a nearby waiter, "What are you standing there for? Get the gentleman's chips!"
"Y-Yes, yes…" After a string of affirmatives, the waiter scurried off.
The dealer's smile widened. "Please rest assured, sir, we won't overcharge a single credit. Be sure to check your bill later."
"No problem. I trust the Dreamscape Hotel."
The dealer nodded silently to himself.
The black-gold card Aventurine presented was exclusive to the Dreamscape Hotel's elite members.
Not only that, it was a lifetime, non-transferable, real-name card—one per person.
Producing it was proof enough of his status.
No need for further words—just drain him dry.
"Sir, let me explain the rules:
This game is called Roulette. The wheel has 38 numbers, from '00' to '37,' and two colors: white and black.
You can bet on a color or a number. Colors are easier to hit but pay less.
Numbers are harder but pay 35 times the stake! Which betting method would you like?"
Aventurine furrowed his brow, eyeing the wheel, then pointed to "00."
"That one!"
"Got it. You're betting on 00, right?"
"No, I'm betting on everything except 00."
The crowd gasped.
"Is this guy drunk and acting crazy?"
"Probably. That alcohol stench—he must've downed a ton."
"Dressed so sharp, I thought he was a gambling god. Turns out he's a moneybags fool."
"With idiots like this throwing cash around, people saying the Dreamscape Hotel's going bankrupt are joking."
"…"
Aventurine filtered out the mockery, keeping only the key details, then gestured a "one" to the dealer. "1 to 37, one million credits on each number."
"Very well!"
Soon, the dealer pressed a button, and the ball began rolling on the wheel.
Everyone at the table swallowed hard, their eyes locked on the fateful ball.
As it slowed, each number it passed tested the crowd's nerves.
But one person was an exception, yawning as if he couldn't care less.
Finally, the ball stopped under the influence of friction and gravity.
The dealer glanced at the wheel and announced loudly, "Number 8! White!"
The mood split—some cheered, some groaned.
The happy ones had bet on white, but with only a two-to-one payout, after venue fees, they barely broke even.
Most wore long faces, having bet on numbers with a one-in-38 chance.
Yet one person won.
"Congratulations, sir. You hit number 8, winning 35 million."
The dealer smiled at Aventurine.
But anyone with eyes could see it was a losing deal.
Aventurine had bet 37 million, and even with the win, he got only 35 million.
Excluding the venue's cut, this was a steady loss.
"Care to continue, sir?"
"Of course!" Aventurine was oddly enthusiastic. "Next, skip 00 and 08. Bet one million on all the rest."
The crowd was stunned.
"What?"
"I get it—it's the exhaustive method. The odds of a number repeating twice are 1/38 times 1/38, super low. With this method, you'd turn a profit after the fourth round."
"Right, right, that makes sense!"
"It's just probability, no issue."
Then, the roulette spun again.
At this point, Aventurine was the only real player at the table.
The others wanted to see if this method worked—maybe it was a surefire strategy.
Sure enough, the wheel stopped a second time.
The ball landed on "24."
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"See, this method might actually work!"
The atmosphere was electric.
Aventurine, still acting drunk, soaked up the praise.
The dealer, unfazed, thought to himself: How many years has this trick been around?
Does this guy really not know it's all tech now?
What if "08" comes up next?