A new round began, the steel ball spinning along the roulette wheel.
The crowd buzzed with anticipation. Could there really be a winning formula for roulette?
But when the ball finally stopped, everyone was dumbfounded.
It landed on "08."
"08?" One gambler shook his head.
"Tch, what winning formula? It's all about who's got better luck."
Even Aventurine had beads of sweat on his forehead, sobering up halfway.
"Twice in a row on '08' by the third round?"
He slapped his forehead, then slammed the table.
"I'm betting on every number except 08! One million credits on each."
The onlookers wondered if Aventurine had lost his mind.
Was he starting over from scratch?
The dealer's smirk was harder to suppress than an AK's recoil.
In his mind, he muttered: This is a gambler's mentality.
Could "08" not hit a third time in such a short span?
Meanwhile, Aventurine swallowed hard, muttering to himself.
"No way, no way it'll happen a third time. It's statistically impossible!"
The dealer smiled faintly and pressed the start button.
The next moment, Aventurine's expression was eerily calm.
The bartender from earlier brought a drink and placed it beside him.
"Mr. Aventurine, as you instructed, the bet's been placed."
Aventurine raised the glass, swirling it casually. "In roulette, you can still place bets before the wheel stops, right?"
The dealer felt a chill, his voice trembling, avoiding Aventurine's gaze.
"Y-Yes!"
"You're a sly one." Aventurine took a sip of whiskey.
"Seems I'm like Feixiao—totally unsuited for drinking."
A bystander asked, "You can't handle alcohol? Then why do you reek of it?"
"Simple." Aventurine pointed to his collar, cuffs, and a wet spot on his chest.
"A little splash here and there, plus a dab on the neck, and it's like I've been marinating in a bar for three days."
"So you're not drunk?"
Aventurine looked at the dealer's face, speaking patiently.
"Nope. I'd love to get drunk, but I can't. No matter how much I drink, my mind stays sharp—just makes me nauseous." He set down the glass.
"The so-called winning formula isn't about guessing where the ball lands.
It's about making it land where I want.
You thought you were clever, didn't you? You believed you read my mind, that the same number could hit three times in a row, right?
So…" Aventurine patted the bartender's shoulder. "He placed the entire bet on '08.'"
The dealer finally realized.
Who had been played?
When they thought Aventurine was blackout drunk?
When they thought he was a rich fool?
Unbeknownst to him, he was the only one trapped.
The wheel stopped.
The ball landed squarely on "08."
In an instant, the crowd erupted in cheers.
"Badass, man!"
"Wait, doesn't he look like that guy?"
"Now that you mention it, yeah! I've definitely seen him somewhere!"
"…"
Aventurine stood, bowing respectfully. "I'm Aventurine, from miHoYo Film and Entertainment Development Co., Ltd. If you've seen me, it was probably in the movie Crown of the Mundane and Divine. I appeared as an Easter egg character."
The crowd surged forward, surrounding Aventurine.
"Where's Professor Ratio? I want his autograph!"
"I'd take Herta's!"
"Screwllum's would do for me!"
"…"
Meanwhile, at another part of the hotel.
Sparkle cleared her throat, coughing lightly.
"Hey?"
"Hey!"
"Hey."
Cough, cough. "Hey…"
"How's that? Close enough, brother?"
Su Chen snapped his fingers. "Not bad."
He glanced at Jiaoqiu. "In a bit, we stick to the plan."
"Sweet! Sweet!" Sparkle clapped her hands excitedly.
"Ta-da! Lady Sparkle's finally taking the stage!"
"Hello, Mr. Kevin. Sorry for the sudden invitation, but our hotel's equipment needs an expert like you to upgrade it," Sunday said, pointing to a room ahead.
Kevin nodded calmly. "No problem. If it's just a simple program, you don't need to worry too much."
"But, if I may ask, is it true programmers lose their hair?" Sunday eyed Kevin's lustrous white hair.
"And another thing—you look strikingly similar to a friend I met once."
"That's not unusual. I once saw triplet sisters who looked exactly like my girlfriend. If they weren't standing together, I'd have thought she was pranking me."
Suddenly, a unique ringtone sounded from Sunday's phone. He answered, his tone softening.
"Hey, sis."
"Brother, can you come find me? I've got an urgent matter."
"Where are you?"
"In my room."
"Alright." Sunday hung up, handing a key to Kevin. "The server room's at the end, turn left. Sorry, Mr. Kevin, I've got something to handle. It'll just be a moment."
Kevin nodded understandingly, watching Sunday disappear around the corridor corner before heading to the server room with the key.
However, just then, Jiaoqiu and Sparkle appeared in front of Kevin.
Sparkle glared at him angrily. "Hey! Where do you think you're going, Su Chen?"
"Su Chen?" Kevin blinked. "I'm not Su Chen. You've got the wrong guy."
"Hahaha, little gray-hair, you think dyeing your hair white and popping in contacts fools me?" Sparkle smirked.
"Hmph! I'd know you even if you turned to ash.
Look at him, hair all white from stress. Bet he can't fight. Let's take him together."
"Really?" Kevin gave a helpless smile, cracking his knuckles. "Wanna try?"
"Sigh." Jiaoqiu sighed. "Sparkle, can you stop? Su Chen told us the plan, and you're still doing this?"
"Ugh, Jiaoqiu, you're such a buzzkill. I was this close to succeeding!" Sparkle flopped onto the ground, rolling back and forth.
"Su Chen!" Kevin caught on. "So you guys were messing with me?"
"Sorry." Jiaoqiu stepped over Sparkle, ignoring her.
"Hello, I'm from miHoYo Film and Entertainment Development Co., Ltd. Our boss wants to invite you to join our company."
Jiaoqiu raised a hand to stop Kevin from responding. "Don't rush to refuse, Mr. Kevin. At least hear the terms: our boss can promise you'll work with Mei at the same time, same place, same company, doing the same job.
Can you accept that?"