As we exited the alley, I turned to the woman.
"Say, what's your name? You never told me..."
"And you never told me where you're going!" she shot back.
I smirked. "Didn't we just gamble on me unifying this wretched city? Where the hell else would I be going?"
She paused for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. The name's Rita, by the way."
"Rita? Mhm… Are you Mexican by any chance?"
"Yeah. Now, tell me where exactly are we going?"
"The Hustlers. They'll be the starting point."
"The starting point?"
"Exactly. You see, this whole gang war is interconnected. I just need to connect the dots. Fast. Very fast."
As we walked toward the gate, we drew a few curious stares along the way. Upon reaching the entrance, one of the men turned to face us.
"Hey, how are ya? So, you wanna play a game after all, huh?"
"I'm not really in the mood," I replied, pausing for a moment before smirking. "But I'll make an exception for just one game."
"That's great! What game do you have in mind?"
"I'm not quite sure. Do you have anything in mind?"
"Why, yes. It's called Three Card Monte. The rules are simple: I have three cards two queens and one king. All you have to do is pick the king."
"Shall we declare a duel?" I asked, my eyes locked onto his.
"Why? Do you not trust me?" His expression shifted into something darker sharp, almost predatory.
I chuckled, acting a little uneasy. "Sure, sure… let's do it."
I let a hint of nervousness creep into my voice, just enough to sell the act.
As we sat down, the man shuffled the cards with practiced ease.
"So, what's your name?" he asked.
"Ken. And you?"
"Morduke."
I raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like the name of a king, yet you look like a homeless man and you're chewing on kabanos of all things. Quite the oddsmaker this is."
Morduke grinned, unfazed. "Kabanos is pretty great… As for a king? I'll take that as a compliment. But I'm just a pilot, you see."
"A pilot, huh?" I leaned back. "Never flown a plane myself. I hear it's pretty tough. That right?"
"Well, it takes a lot of learning, but enough about that. The cards are ready pick one."
I held up a hand. "Hold on. How much are we betting?"
He smirked. "How about… 10,000?"
"Wait, without a referee, how will you even pay me if I win?"
"We'll call him later. Let's just get on with it, alright?"
I studied him for a moment, then smirked. "Alright, let's play."
Playing the fool, I became a puppet. It went like this… I won four times in a row, then Morduke called the referee to make the payment. Normally, I would have walked away right then. But I had to stay. I had to be consumed, absorbed.
Time passed too quickly. Before I knew it, I had lost six hands in a row. As the 11th hand was about to be dealt, I raised a hand.
"Wait."
Morduke narrowed his eyes. "What's going on, Ken? Backing out?"
"No, no," I said, shaking my head. "I just thought we should raise the stakes. Wouldn't that make it more fun?"
Morduke, thinking he could bleed me dry, grinned. "How much? Your wish is my command."
"The winner of the next game takes control of the Hustlers. If I lose, I'll not only forfeit my place in the Oasis but also hand over more than 300,000 coins."
Morduke's face twisted in shock. What is this guy talking about? he thought. Did he figure out my plan? What's going on? Even if he did, the game is unwinnable…
I leaned forward, a sly grin playing on my lips. "Let's make things even more interesting. How about we play a game of my choosing? Something simple. Very simple."
Morduke, unaware that he was the one being drawn in, couldn't bring himself to refuse. "Fine… What's the game?"
I met his gaze and said, "Terminal Descent."
"The rules are simple. We'll both be placed in identical cockpit consoles, each simulating flight controls. Our planes will start at 35,000 feet in a high-speed nosedive toward the ground. The objective? Whoever pulls up last without crashing wins."
Morduke's expression shifted from shock to confusion. What? He wants to gamble on something he's never done before? And against me an expert pilot? What the hell is he thinking?
I smirked. "Oh, and one more thing. There's an altitude meter, but it has a slight delay. The referee will determine how much. So in the end, it all comes down to instinct and judgment."
Morduke's confidence soared. He's making this a test of instinct? I've flown dozens of planes there's no way I lose. This actually plays to my advantage!
"So, do you accept?" I asked.
There was still a sliver of hesitation in his eyes, but the temptation was too great.
"I accept."
With the bet finalized, we stepped into our cockpits. As the doors sealed, Morduke and I locked eyes. His focus was razor-sharp, his determination unwavering. But so was mine. This wasn't just a gamble I couldn't lose. No, I wouldn't lose.
The referee stood between us, raising his hand. "The countdown will start at ten. Once it hits zero, the planes will begin their descent. Who will chicken out first? Remember, if you crash in the game space, nothing happens to you so don't be afraid to take risks."
One final glance at each other.
3… 2… 1…
Voom! The simulated planes plummeted from 35,000 feet. The world rushed toward us a sprawling jungle stretching endlessly below, with a pond shimmering to the north.
Time seemed to slow. Morduke was calculating every detail adjusting, analyzing, stealing glances at me, trying to read my strategy.
But I didn't move. Not an inch.
He's not doing anything? Is he crazy? Morduke thought, gripping his controls. At least put your hands on the yoke!
He shook his head, pushing aside any thoughts of me. I shouldn't care about him right now. Focus. I just need to time my descent perfectly—get as low as possible before pulling up.
Bzzzz.
A crackle came through the radio.
"Hello, Morduke. I thought we should talk before one of us dies."
His eyes darted to the side. The radio?
"Don't try to mess with me," he snapped. "You're going to lose."
"I'm not, I'm not. But this situation… doesn't it feel familiar to you? Tell me.
Your one wish, what was it? That you never flew that plane. You said it so casually, but it meant everything.
I pieced it together. You crashed that plane. Everyone died except you. And you lived with that guilt, let it rot you from the inside. You drowned it in alcohol, lost your job, your friends, your entire life.
And then one night, you stood on that bridge, staring at the sky, questioning if it was all worth it. But when you look down at the water…"
I leaned in, whispering.
"That wasn't a reflection. That was me. Your death."
"Huh?" His voice echoed, but the world around him had already vanished.
Everything froze.
Then, the voices came.
"Brace, brace, brace! Heads down, stay down!"
"Incident of Flight 304 one survivor. The pilot. Was it planned? What really happened?"
"That pilot killed my family. I'm forced to live with no one! I wish he had died too…"
"Died too…"
"Died too.."
"Died too."
The words spiraled into nothingness, fading like whispers in the wind.
Morduke was trapped, drowning in a sea of memory. His body refused to move, his fingers slipping from the yoke. The plane jolted slightly, veering off course just enough to snap him back.
His breath came in ragged gasps.
"How low am I?"
Looking down, he assessed the situation.
"I'm still fine, but I must pull up soon."
Glancing to the left, he muttered, "That bastard… I'll end him."
"The radio's still on… I like it… Try and catch me."
As we dropped lower, both planes flashed red with alerts, but neither of us slowed.
Morduke was slightly higher than me. I had moved down just a little at the start, and now he was watching my hands, waiting for me to signal him.
And there it was I grabbed the yoke, pulling it.
"This is it! He gave up… I won!"
Morduke, realizing the moment had come, also reached for the yoke, screaming as he pulled it back, "RAGHHH!!"
The plane tapped the treetops like a kid stepping on puddles, rising once again.
Looking out the window, Morduke saw nothing at first, "Where Is he? He should have been above me at this rate…" but then emerging from the clouds was his worst nightmare… me.
Moments earlier…
I hadn't gone up with the yoke. In fact, I had pushed it down just as the low altitude forced Morduke to focus on his own plane. That tiny distraction, as he saw me grab the yoke, was all I needed. He assumed I would pull up, just like him. But I didn't. I pushed down.
With the last moment of momentum I had, I used the drop to my advantage, pushing downward. As I approached the pond from earlier, the plane's wheels skimmed the water, almost sending me to my doom. But in that moment, it was all worth it. As Morduke soared higher, his plane rose into the air, thinking he was safe. But I had already made my move. I ended his momentum, no I didn't just end It. I killed it.
Back in the present...
We were teleported back instantly. Morduke, pale and shaking, crawled away from me. "He's insane… He's… a monster!"
Rita watched in confusion, wondering what had just happened.
Yakou asked, "So, who won?"
"Me, of course," I replied calmly.
Morduke, still sweating from the fear, couldn't believe it. "No way… But how? You should have died!"
"I already told you," I said. "I am already dead."
A silence followed, before the referee finally spoke. "The results of the gamble are in. Ken is the victor. He now has control over the Hustlers. Any objections to his command will result in punishment. As per the gamble's rules, Ken may decide to end his control at any time."
"Well, that's quite nice, isn't it?" I said, glancing around the room.
Morduke, still stunned, stood up and lunged at me, "You bastard!" But his punch was quickly stopped in mid-air, not even touching me.
"You're being a little disobedient, but I'll let it slide," I said, coolly.
Grabbing my cane, I turned to leave. Morduke, still in shock, stood there with his group, who were equally confused and dumbfounded by the outcome. How could he have lost such a game?
I tossed Morduke a compass. "This compass will always point to my location. When it beeps, that's your signal to come to me. I just need you to fulfill a few things, and I'll release you."
Rita asked, "What the hell happened during that gamble? What did you do to him? And how could you win, aren't you blind?"
I adjusted my shades and replied, "Yes, I'm blind. But to make the game fair, I made him blind to reality as well. I shifted his focus onto things that didn't matter. I don't know how to fly a plane, but I know one thing: If you can't take risks in a gamble, you can't win."
As my cane tapped the concrete floor, the rain began to fall. I checked the time and nodded. "Good, I'm on pace. One down, six more to go."