"For fun?!" Ciel quietly exclaimed, utterly baffled.

The answer was so casual, so utterly unbothered, that it felt like a slap in the face to all the players.

Ciel’s mouth hung open for a full second before he turned in his chair to appeal to Grayson.

Ciel looked at his cousin in utter bewilderment: He’s burning your money. Are you not going to say anything?

Grayson looked at Ciel. He quickly and silently reached out and closed his fingers around Ciel’s forearm.

Without a word, he applied pressure on his grip, making a very specific warning.

The contact made Ciel yelp, and his exclamation made Sarah jump in her seat.

"What happened?" she asked, turning toward Ciel with wide eyes.

Ciel’s expression transformed from pain to forced nonchalance in under a second.

"Nothing! I just—hit my foot. On the table. It’s fine. Completely fine." His smile was so forced that only Sarah believed his lies.

Sarah blinked, confused, but in the end nodded.

Ciel shot a venomous glare at Grayson.

Grayson accepted it head-on and even shrugged. Then, he returned his gaze to Neville.

Grayson did not care about one hundred thousand star coins. Even if Neville lost a billion, he could afford it. As long as Neville wanted it, he would give it.

Lilianna drew the card from the shoe and laid it face-up next to Neville’s hand.

Three.

Ciel’s jaw dropped. "How—what—how?!"

Eighteen.

Neville looked at the three, which appeared exactly as he expected.

Julius, seated next to Neville, nodded, impressed.

"Good hit."

Neville turned to him and smiled. "Thanks."

Then he felt a hand settling against the back of his neck.

Neville didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Grayson’s. His fingers were warm and gentle, resting just below his hairline.

It made Neville’s ears feel warm, and he unconsciously smiled.

Lilianna saw it all.

Her smile looked normal, but if one looked closely, it was actually a little strained.

’He’s already losing but still had the gall to flirt’, her inner voice said. ’He’s really shameless.’

Lilianna’s fingers twitched against the table. It doesn’t matter.

’Is it?’ Her inner voice asked.

Lilianna forced her attention back to the table.

It was Ciel’s turn.

Ciel had watched Neville’s miraculous three-card draw.

His thoughts were obvious: If Neville hit on fifteen and pulled a small card. The next card would also be small.

It was the exact same flawed reasoning that worked, but also cost him money since he also lost in the previous round.

But Ciel was not a man who learn his mistakes if he only made one.

"Hit," Ciel declared.

Neville’s eyebrow twitched, unnoticed by anyone. Because he knew that the next card in the shoe was a queen.

Ciel was about to bust.

And Neville couldn’t say a word about it.

Any warning—even a vague one—would raise questions he couldn’t answer.

How did you know? What made you think the next card was high? Why would you stop another player from hitting?

The questions would spiral, and eventually they would land somewhere uncomfortably close to Neville, can you see the cards?

He swallowed his objection. Kept his expression in check and let his gaze rest on the table.

Sure enough, when the card came out.

It was a Queen.

Ciel’s total soared past twenty-one.

"Bust," Lilianna announced.

Ciel stared at his cards, and his left eye twitched.

Behind him, Thiago finished a whole bottle of the alcoholic drink he was drinking.

Lilianna turned over her card with a smooth flip of her wrist: Jack.

Combined with the face-up ten, the dealer’s hand was twenty.

A murmur rippled around the table.

Twenty again?

"Julius." Lilianna turned her attention to the remaining face-down card. She reached for it and turned it over.

Ten.

Julius’s total: seven plus three plus ten.

Twenty.

"Push," Lilianna said.

Julius nodded, expressionless.

A push was neither victory nor defeat. He didn’t seem to mind since he didn’t lose any money.

Bryan lost. Sarah lost. Neville lost. Ciel busted.

Only Julius survived, and barely, with a push.

Lilianna’s smile returned, much more real this time.

A twenty was a strong hand, but not an outrageous one. Losses were distributed evenly. Not a single player was completely crushed.

It was textbook control.

But before she could glance at Neville, she heard someone whine.

"Oh, come on!"

Sarah slapped both palms flat on the table. Her chips sat in a sadly reduced pile before her. She glared at them as if they had betrayed a sacred trust.

"Again! I lost again!"

"It’s part of the game," he flatly explained.

Sarah’s eyes did a full rotation in her skull.

"Part of the game," she mimicked, making her voice comically low. "Everything’s part of the game when you’re sitting pretty with a fat stack, winning."

"I lost this round, too," Bryan pointed out.

"Easy for you—you already got a blackjack earlier!"

Lilianna stepped in before her older sister got even more hysterical.

"Sarah." She softened her voice.

When Sarah turned to face her, Lilianna had a face that clearly said: I’m your baby sister, and you should give me some face, so please calm down.

Sarah scowled at her.

So, Lilianna said patiently, "We’re still at the beginning of the game. Surely, you’ll win at some point."

Sarah’s lips pressed into a tight line. After a moment of consideration, her shoulders dropped half an inch.

She made a sound that was one-third sigh, two-thirds grudging acceptance.

"Fine," she muttered. "But if I lose one more round, I’m going to tap out."

"Yeah, yeah," Bryan said, which made Sarah shoot him a look.

Lilianna smiled sweetly and said, "Well, then."

A robot server arrived with a little bit of snacks and refreshments. It went around one by one until all of the people in the place had one.

Bryan poured himself another alcoholic drink that was confiscated by Iris.

"Babe..." he whined.

Iris looked at him dead in the eye and said, "You can drink after. I don’t want you, being drunk, the reason why we lost a million of our savings."

Bryan thought about it and felt that he was a little tipsy himself. So he obediently complied.