The game continued.
The four people taking turns shuffling the cards once is called one round. By the time five rounds had passed, the three people had continuously lost only the basic bet to Ho Cheon-an. Heukjeo, unable to hold back, tried to take a chance once but only lost an additional five coins.
Five rounds.
Among the three people at the table, and the dozens of gamblers disguised as waitstaff or other guests peering from the sidelines, all eyes were fixed on Ho Cheon-an as he shuffled the cards, but no one could guess his strategy.
Each time, Ho Cheon-an swept away the basic stake, waiting for the next opportunity.
Occasionally, he would peek at three coins or five coins, but only piles of coins accumulated in front of Ho Cheon-an.
Another five rounds passed, and they exchanged the cards. Though the cards were memorized beforehand, nothing changed. Once Ho Cheon-an took his turn, a card known only to him was completed, leaving the other three in the dark.
No matter how much they looked, they couldn’t ascertain Ho Cheon-an’s hand.
When the fifteenth round passed, Hak Jo squeezed his eyes shut and signaled.
“I’ll switch my cards.”
The tribesmen came in with the marked cards they had prepared. They had made scratches, cracks, and joints that only they could recognize on their important cards. Ho Cheon-an, as if he knew they had tampered with the cards, flipped through them mockingly with a smile.
Still, Cheong Seo focused her concentration. Although it was a card she had saved for a crucial moment, circumstances dictated otherwise. Saving a trump card while faced with a seemingly impossible opponent was the worst choice.
“Let’s see if you can keep laughing!”
Heukjeo revealed his determination, and Hak Jo and Cheong Seo steadied themselves at Heukjeo’s display of courage.
The three exchanged glances. The opponent was one, and we were three. Just as Heukjeo had motivated the others with his determination, they could pressure their opponent by playing to their strengths.
The rounds continued to flow.
Ho Cheon-an clicked his tongue, as if the game wasn’t going well. This was because the three had buried their marked important cards beneath their others. They only raised the revealed cards, offering Ho Cheon-an only low cards, denying him any chance.
Every time he swept away the basic stake, accumulating a profit of three coins per round, Ho Cheon-an found himself hindered.
“Die.”
In a situation where low cards were almost certain to be held, Ho Cheon-an too had to face defeat.
Ho Cheon-an, who had been effortlessly stacking coins, was now trapped in a stagnating flow.
Momentary equilibrium where neither losses nor gains were occurring. With each side holding uncertain elements, only bets of three or five coins continued, but the flow of the game did not change. While Ho Cheon-an attempted to break the stalemate by raising his low cards, the three simply defended themselves without risking anything.
“The opportunity will come.”
Despite not achieving a reversal, they had only managed to go even after playing their trump cards. While Ho Cheon-an’s emotions remained unreadable, the three gamblers felt certain that the more he controlled his emotions, the more anxious he became. It was only natural he would suppress his feelings knowing he was on the defensive.
“If we keep blocking the important cards… surely an opportunity will come.”
Meanwhile, it was clear that an opportunity would eventually arise.
And as they continued the game, holding their breath, the chance finally arrived.
Hak Jo looked down at his cards. He grabbed 31, completing a strong hand.
“31. Is it 33?”
Hak Jo studied Ho Cheon-an’s cards. No, he examined the entire table. Determinedly, he gathered his thoughts.
“It’s here.”
The flow for the long-awaited reversal had arrived. Ho Cheon-an’s hand included a thirty-marked card. Even after accounting for the revealed cards and considering all possible uncertainties, the only way to beat the 64 points required a combination of 75 points using 30 and 15.
And the very top card of the unplayed cards was 15. The scar on the back of the card indicated that it was indeed 15.
At long last, the opportunity to seize victory had arrived!
Hak Jo’s mind raced faster.
“The unmarked 31 hasn’t appeared in the game at all.”
Therefore, from Ho Cheon-an’s perspective, both of Hak Jo’s cards were unknown numbers. With about half of the cards revealed over the rounds, there were clues to speculate, but that level of deduction could not provide certainty.
It was an appropriate time for the tide of the game to shift.
The previous rounds had ended silently without any disturbance, so it was about time for an uncertain element to stir things up.
Feigning a gamble to increase the stakes through bravado, they could win big!
“Three coins.”
“Okay. I’ll raise it to three.”
“Me too, three.”
Heukjeo and Cheong Seo still hadn’t sensed the situation. They might recognize 33 since it was previously marked, but they wouldn’t realize that the undeciphered uncertainty of 31 lay in Hak Jo’s hand.
“Five.”
Ho Cheon-an raised the stakes. Hak Jo sensed that Ho Cheon-an’s hand likely held quite a high number. Probably in the late twenties. Maybe even 32.
If it were 30 and the high twenties, or assuming it’s 32, he could confidently rush in. With 62 points, he’d be safe to gamble without worry.
Hak Jo glanced nervously at Ho Cheon-an and took a deep breath.
“Open.”
“…I will die.”
“Die.”
Heukjeo and Cheong Seo’s hands were cards that Ho Cheon-an could easily deduce, so they folded without hesitation.
Ho Cheon-an looked at Hak Jo, while Hak Jo kept his gaze fixed on the center of the gambling table, waiting for Ho Cheon-an’s declaration.
“Open—fifteen.”
“…Twenty.”
Ho Cheon-an’s gaze deepened. The entire gambling hall held its breath. Yoo Gyeong and Sa Ma Gyeong-hwi also swallowed hard.
A watershed moment.
Could Hak Jo and Heukjeo and Cheong Seo land one on Ho Cheon-an? Or would Ho Cheon-an crush the triumphant moves of the three and dominate the table?
Depending on who emerged victorious in this round, the stakes would completely flip.
“Thirty.”
“Forty.”
“Fifty.”
With Ho Cheon-an declaring fifty coins, Hak Jo’s gaze left the gambling table. Heukjeo and Cheong Seo stared at him with tense expressions. And Ho Cheon-an was looking right at Hak Jo. In that instant, he caught a glimpse of a very subtle flicker in Ho Cheon-an’s eyes.
Hak Jo presented the amount corresponding to 50 coins.
“Hundred!”
The air in the second underground floor of the celestial tower froze. If Ho Cheon-an accepted this bet, the total of 210 gold coins, including the five coins put forth by Heukjeo and Cheong Seo, would determine the game!
Moreover, if either Hak Jo or Ho Cheon-an lost this round, they would suffer enormous psychological damage.
“Alright.”
Ho Cheon-an added to the wager.
“Is it settled?”
“Indeed.”
With no withdrawal now. Having completed the bets, Hak Jo shakily placed his cards down.
“Sixty-four! High points!”
Gasps of astonishment erupted around. Hak Jo twisted his mouth into a grin, staring at Ho Cheon-an. While Ho Cheon-an’s expression remained inscrutable, Hak Jo felt assured. Ho Cheon-an was still human, and as a human, he couldn’t help but reveal vulnerabilities. That slight hesitation before the final bet was unmistakable.
Gulp.
Someone in the gambling house swallowed hard while staring at Ho Cheon-an. His hand began to come down. Everyone in the gambling house couldn’t help but lean forward anxiously. Even Emperor Yoo Gyeong and Senior Ho had the same reaction.
Clack.
With a slight noise, Ho Cheon-an revealed his cards… thirty and…
“Fifteen! That’s seventy-five points!”
“Aah…!”
It was fifteen.
“That’s impossible!”
Hak Jo jumped up, flipping his remaining cards. It was undoubtedly fifteen, so how did Ho Cheon-an have fifteen in his hand…
As he flipped the cards, he… collapsed as his strength drained from his legs.
The card with the same scratch as the fifteen was 23. The two gamblers, stunned by Hak Jo’s reaction, widened their eyes. They too had thought the card was 15, only to find it was actually 23 upon turning it over.
How did they know it was 15, given that there was a scratch on the back? When had they made the same mark? How did they know Hak Jo had high cards? Did they pretend to have the unbeatable combination of 30 and 15?
Or rather.
“When… from where…”
When, and from where, had they been penetrated and toyed with?
Hak Jo felt awash with confusion. The sensation mirrored the hazy state of drunkenness before losing consciousness or the feeling of being distanced from the world when one wakes up in the morning.
“It’s my turn now.”
Ho Cheon-an stacked the coins at his seat, casually reversed the cards Hak Jo had flipped and shuffled them.
Tap. Tap.
Hak Jo took in the distant scenery of the gambling table. Next to Ho Cheon-an, coins were steadily piling up. And Ho Cheon-an was shuffling the cards.
Ho Cheon-an, seemingly without a care, exhibited a slightly bored expression while shuffling systematically, as if it were a regular occurrence.
Watching that made Hak Jo chuckle softly. A systematic shuffle did he say? Just moments ago, he had been utterly defeated, yet it all appeared so tranquil.
Hak Jo erupted into laughter.
In gambling, one must never reveal their true intentions. The expressions one assumes while acting are boundless, but one’s true feelings must never be exposed. Should astute gamblers catch one’s true expression even once, it would serve as a tip-off to uncovering the false one.
But what good was it?
What use was hiding one’s expression when one was completely toyed by the opponent?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
With the rhythmic sound of Ho Cheon-an shuffling the cards, Hak Jo felt as if he were descending into the depths.
Having prepared the best hand for three days and throwing in his gamble at the optimum moment, he suffered utter defeat.
It would have been less miserable had Ho Cheon-an burst with joy over hoarding the gold. Instead, like he had merely cleared out a petty nuisance or picked up a stone from the road, Ho Cheon-an calmly strode toward the next round… a being from a different world.
“I can’t win…”
Hak Jo’s heart sank into a deep abyss.
There would be no rebounds for Hak Jo, Cheong Seo, and Heukjeo.
By the time Ho Cheon-an returned to the palace that day, he would have pocketed three hundred coins in profit.
