I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra-Chapter 121

It was my first time going to a casino, the atmosphere enveloped me like a whirlwind—bright lights flashed, no clocks, no mirror, and the sound of spinning slot machines filled the cavernous space. The air buzzed with excitement, a mosaic of voices in various languages darting back and forth.

’What should I do? Do I just pay with cash here?’

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the vibrant chaos around me. Just then, I noticed a tall foreign man approach with a broad smile, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

"Are you new here, dollique?" he asked, leaning a little too close for comfort.

I nearly raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. He was speaking Aeonian but the last term he used was distinctly Eldorian... Does he really think I don’t know their language?

"Ahh yes, I just want to ask if I need to pay cash to pl—" I started, but he cut me off with a loud, hearty laugh.

"Oh dollique, I like how dewwhim you are," he said, a teasing tone coloring his voice. "If you want you can come to my table so I could show you how to play-"

It’s useless to talk to him, so I walked away. I was looking for help, not a date, so I decided to approach one of the dealers standing at a nearby table instead. After gaining some useful information about the various games and rules, I finally made my way toward the cashier.

Reaching the counter, I revealed my sleek VIP black ATM card, ready to exchange my funds. "Can I exchange 10 million Glacium?"

"Can I get your ID?" the cashier asked, glancing up at me.

I felt a slight twinge of annoyance when I recognized him. ’What’s Thorne doing here again? The last time I saw him was a disaster.’ He had a bright smile plastered across his face.

I handed him my student ID, trying to keep my expression neutral. With a quick scan, Thorne converted my 10 million Glacium into an impressive stack of chips without batting an eye, the transaction smooth and efficient.

Staring at him, and perhaps a bit too casually, I asked, "So, how long have you been working here?"

Thorne’s smile remained, almost unnervingly so. "I’ve worked for almost three years now."

"So it’s been a while," I replied, trying to keep the conversation going out of idle curiosity.

"Yes," he said simply, his eyes flitting momentarily to the busy floor of the casino, perhaps scanning for someone or something.

I took my chips, feeling the weight of them in my hands and turned to leave. Whatever Thorne was doing here—whatever mission he was involved in—was none of my concern. Earning money is more important that worrying about why is he here.

As I walked away, I spotted a bustling table with players eagerly calling out their bets then I noticed familiar faces—Angela, leaning over the table with a vibrant energy, while Edge sat beside her, quiet and brooding.

I was about to leave and explore another part of the casino when I overheard snippets of their conversation. To my surprise, it seemed that Edge was the one being scammed instead of Angela. ’Now this is fun,’ I thought, my curiosity piqued.

My gaze drifted to the other players at the table, and I sneered when I recognized one of the players who had flirted with me earlier.

He was leaning back casually, pale fingers tapping rhythmically on the table, clearly enjoying the scene before him. "Aww, that was close," he chided. It’s obvious that he was just orchestrating this scheme.

"Come on Edge! Can’t you win just once?" Angela added playfully and that seemed to ignite Edge’s determination to win.

"Let’s play one more game!" Edge grumbled, his frustration evident as he struggled to accept his losses. Edge didn’t understand that the others were playing him for a fool.

It was easy to spot a newbie like Edge. All the players sitting with them on that table were working together to scam them, especially him.

Suddenly, I stepped forward, deciding to play with them. Since they’re scammers, I might as well empty their pockets.

"Hey Angela, where are the others?" I asked, casually slipping into the fold of their chatter.

"You’re here! Did you know that Edge here lost five times in a row? Hahaha!" she replied, her excitement evident.

"Sounds fun. Mind if I join?" I looked up at the players only to see the table was full. I feigned ignorance, my tone light. "Oh, it seems you’re all full. I should go to another—"

As if on cue, the scammers exchanged knowing glances, sending signals that were almost imperceptible to the untrained eye.

"Aissh, I’m sick of this game already!" he declared loudly, pretending to move toward another table.

One of the other scammers gestured me to sit down. "There’s an open seat for you, do you still want to play?"

"Of course, "I smiled sweetly, taking the seat and placing my box of chips in front of me.

The foreigner who had previously flirted with me leaned back, his eyes twinkling with an unsettling charm. "We meet again, dollique. Why did you left me there all alone?"

I glanced at him coldly. "I’m sorry but do I know you?"

He was momentarily stunned, and then he burst into laughter. "You’re so cute."

I stared at him, thinking, ’Cute? Is he a retard? How in the hell are my actions cute?’

Edge interrupted my thoughts. "Hey witch, are you sure you have the money? The minimum bid is 10,000 Glacium."

Before I could respond, Angela leaned in, worry knitting her brow. "Do you want me to lend you some money?"

I shook my head. "I’m fine, let’s just start the game."

"Do you want me to teach you the rules first, dollique?" the foreigner hummed, leaning towards me with a smirk.

"No," I replied firmly. "I already know this game so like I said, start the game."

The dealer shuffled the cards with a practiced precision, the sound of the deck cutting through the murmurs of excitement at the table. The game began, and the atmosphere shifted as the players focused on the cards.

"Welcome to Lucky Seven," the dealer announced, his voice steady and professional. With a swift flick of his wrist, the dealer distributed two cards face down to each of us.

The game format was simple yet thrilling: each player would start with two cards, and the aim was to get as close to a total of seven as possible. Players could then choose to bet, call, or fold, depending on how confident they felt about their hands.

The betting round commenced, and a tense atmosphere enveloped the table as everyone focused on their cards. But not me. I left my cards exactly where the dealer placed them, unflipped and untouched. I didn’t need to see what they were; thanks to my cheat skill, I could perceive the cards of every player at the table, their hidden values clear as day. Coupled with my attribute of luck, I felt invincible.

The player to my right—a burly man with a hardened demeanor—squinted at his cards, pondering his next move. After a moment, he tossed a substantial stack of casino chips into the center of the table. "I’ll bet 20,000," he declared, his voice booming with confidence, echoing against the backdrop of hushed murmurs.

The others followed suit, murmuring "call" as they matched his bet. But when it was my turn, I leaned forward, a mischievous smile spreading across my face. "Raise 50,000," I said with nonchalance, pushing my stacks of chips forward. The sound of them clattering against the felt seeming to echo in the sudden silence.

Everyone stared at me, wide-eyed, disbelief etched across their faces. Even Angela and Edge’s mouth dropped slightly in surprise. The only one who laughed was the foreigner, his amusement bubbling over as if he found my presence delightful.

"Are you sure you know how to play this game?" One of the foreigner’s members queried, his voice laced with skepticism.

I could see their expressions turning from skepticism to delight. They must have thought I was reckless to place a bet as big as I had without even checking my cards. But they don’t know that I can already see my cards.

With the bets placed, the dealer nodded at us. "Time to reveal your cards," he announced.

One by one, the players turned over their cards, revealing their hands with varying degrees of optimism. The burly man to my right flipped his cards—an ace and a five. "Not bad," he said, a hint of feigned confidence in his tone, but it only totaled six.

Next, Angela revealed her cards: a two and a four. "Well..." she began but trailed off, realizing her hand only totalled six as well.

The bald guy on my left showed a three and a two. "Damn it," he muttered, expression souring when he saw that was also just five. Even the foreigner who was just smiling the whole time got six.

One by one, their poker faces crumbled with each fleeting moment as the numbers failed to add up to seven—not a single one of them achieving the coveted total.

Finally, the dealer turned to me, clearly waiting for my reveal, the anticipation hanging heavily in the air. I smiled, relishing the moment. I flipped my cards: a four and a three, perfectly totaling seven.

"Seven," I proclaimed, my tone steady and triumphant.

The foreigner’s smile evaporated, replaced by a contemplative frown, as if he were taking stock of every small miscalculation he’d made. "Beginner’s luck, dollique," he said with a forced chuckle, trying to mask the underlying hint of irritation.

"Heh." Now’s my turn to smirk back at him, a playful glint in my eye.

Indeed, the only thing when you go gambling is luck.