You mark a deck by scratching small subtle numbers and letters into the back top and bottom corners of each card. Those symbols nearly get lost in the existing designs from the manufacturer. They're incredibly hard to spot by the untrained eye. They denote what the card is.
However, it only works if you mark all the cards and the other player is oblivious. Unfortunately for Lucky, I now knew where to look on his cards to see what he had. He was about to try a little of his own poison.
“I'm sorry, did I win too fast? I'll try to fuck you a little slower next round.” Lucky's patronizing syllables dripped with smugness. The cards flipped and blurred as he shuffled the deck. It was all very impressive, but ultimately complete bullshit.
“You're too kind. I'll raise you four hundred. That is, if you've got the balls for it.”
Lucky smiled. “Who am I to stand between an idiot and his finances. You're on.” He laughed. “Boy, you're going to be walking out of here naked.”
I adjusted my grip so as to hide the symbols on my cards, keeping on like I didn't know about the marks. “Nah, I just needed to knock the rust off. I think I'm about to hit my stride.”
The second game was just as fast but this time... I won.
Lucky sobered up real quick. Watching the anxiety seep in was beautiful. Lucky took on a much more serious tone, seeing through my obliviousness ploy. He wasn't a stupid man, he knew right away that he'd been had, but he also knew he couldn't dare call me out on it without implicating himself as well.
“Double or nothing?” I asked coyly.
He stayed uncharacteristically quiet, did a quick frill-less shuffle and dealt the cards. With both our hands properly covered, no one had an inherent advantage. It just came down to luck.
“Nineteen,” he called out, flipping his cards over.
“Damn. So close...” I cast a dour expression, looking down slightly. I waited until hope made its way across his features before I flipped my final card and stole the win. “Is that twenty? Well, I'll be damned. Maybe you should call me Lucky.”
“Funny,” Lucky said slowly, building to a boil. He'd finally realized just how much he'd lost. When the stillness broke, it popped like a ruptured gasket. He swiped all the cards off the table.
“Whoa there!” I put my hands up to calm the situation. “Don't tell me that you're a bad loser? Flaws aren't like those fancy spoons in tourist trap gift shops, you don't have to collect them all.”
His frustration and rage peaked, turning his face red. I'd hit Lucky's hard line. He sprang into action, reaching for the gun in the holster on his hip.
With only the small table between us, he was close enough that I was able to throw my whole body into a right cross before he could even unsnap the strap that secured his weapon. One heavy blow and Lucky dropped like a lumpy bag of sand.
Acting on impulse, I leaped over the table and followed Lucky to the floor. There were three other guys around me, not counting the fat guy in the suit; they'd be on me in seconds. I had to think fast.
Unsnapping the strap on his holster, I drew Lucky's gun. I didn't have to turn around to know that the other men were doing the same with theirs.
“Stop,” I replied, jamming the metal tip into the side of their pres's head.
They yelled at me in turn, all saying roughly the same thing. Let him go, drop the gun, and on and on.
For as much as he probably deserved it, if I wanted to actually walk out of here, then killing Lucky was unfortunately off the table. With Lucky dead, the Knights would just promote their vice president and I'd still be dead. I had to improvise.
I quickly removed the gun from his forehead and rammed it into Lucky's groin. The unconscious body shifted from the impact but astonishingly, Lucky didn't wake up. I was impressed at the number I'd done on him with that punch.
“Listen up!” I cried. “One way or another, your pres is going to survive this and his balls are going to hurt something fierce. You'll be the ones to explain to him exactly what happened. From what I see, you got two options. One, shoot me and pray that before I die, I don't turn his cock and balls into a chunky red paste. Or two, you do what I say and because of that, although sore, Lucky's tiny dick will be unsatisfying women and farm animals for decades to come. So let me ask you, which conversation would you like to have with your boss when he wakes up?”
No one moved as the men argued amongst themselves. There were at least a dozen onlookers waiting to see how this would turn out. The tension in the brothel blanketed everyone like a thick coat of oil.
The girl they'd brought over earlier was slumped against the wall, putting as much distance between her and everyone as possible. I figured she was trying to avoid unwanted attention. I winked at her in an attempt to assure her it would all be over soon.