"The ace of spades, step to the platform." - The ninja dude made a front flip, maneuvering his body in mid-air and landed facing us. A stage light pointed at him and a family symbol (the ones we saw carved in steel earlier) was on the floor along with the spades poker symbol.
"With his training in stealth assassinations, ability to camouflage in the environment, and badass attitude, receives 1.2 : 1," announced 2 commentators who were viewing from a press box located above; behind us.
I turned towards them, was this a live-streamed sport?** I looked to my right and left and realized that spectators had been populating benches and tables. They were eating gourmet food like pigs, some viewed with anticipation and drank fine liquors, others were smoking...pot? (haha, just kidding. Now I remember, they were smoking hookah!)
"Go ahead my queen of hearts," said the man accompanied by the cowgirl.
The cowgirl walked to the front confidently, keeping back and shoulders straight, arms swaying freely. She turned 180° and faced us with a conceited smirk.
"High dexterity and experienced in taming wild animals," the gentlemen chuckled.
"2.3: 1," the numbers appeared on the scoreboard, the cowgirl and the ninja were being broadcasted on big screens next to the scoreboard. The scoreboard displayed their name, poker, and family shield they represent.
"Parkour acrobatics, the king of clubs; brute force and pain tolerance, the king of diamonds," announced the sports commentators.
The black guy took 3 steps like a ballet dancer, raised his hands, and performed acrobatic front flips to the spotlight - yes, it looked very girly, but I was more impressed at how he managed to do it with his gangster apparel. He greeted the audience on both sides; at the same time, the sergeant-looking person had walked to the front, turned around, pulled a cigarette, and started smoking it with a bad-boy stare. "3: 1 and 4.1: 1 respectively."
"And finally, the wildcard!" Stage lights turned on pointing at me. I looked at the audience, turned to see the pit boss, and pointed my index finger to my chest, whispering, "me?" Before he could answer my question, one of his bodyguards once again kicked my @$$ launching me to the front. I landed on my butt.
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9: 1!!! Displayed the scoreboard and the audience yelled in excitement. For those of you unaware, for every $1,000 you bet on me, your wager will be multiplied times 9; therefore:
9: 1 ($1,000), will get you $9,000,
$5,000 can earn you $4,5000,
A $10,000 lay down can hit $90,000, etc.
The odds given to us would make those who bet on the ninja receive the lowest profit if he wins, it would make me their jackpot, and the players between us could net you a nice payday. The most likely player to win is always given the lowest odds; whereas, the most unlikely player is given the highest odds. This allows gamblers to choose between a safe bet and modest returns, a risky bet with higher returns, or anything in-between. At this moment you've probably figured out, I'm as good as cannon fodder!
"We have distributed pamphlets with our players stats, biographies, and faction. You can also access these stats on our mobile APP. We are now accepting bets,"** could be heard from big speakers around the game room, the spectators went euphoric.
"Players, follow our hostess to the locker room," As I walked, I looked right and left. I couldn't find an exit to run to; moreover, the pit boss' body guards walked behind me.
We entered the locker room. As the other players practiced: ninja dude was swinging his sword, cowgirl polished her revolvers, black guy performed back and front flips, and Mr. Commander was bench-pressing 315 lb. The bodyguards told me to follow them, We walked into the shower room adjacent to the lockers.
"What am I doing here?!" I yelled at them, grabbed a bodyguard by his shirt-collar, and raised my knuckle at him.
"You may be scared at first, but I'm glad to tell you there is a team of medics ready to take care of you in case of injury," he replied.
"What?!"
"The good news is that your limbs are insured as well as your life. If you were to die or became handicapped, you're set for life. This is possible thanks to our spectators, since they are betting against the house on the likelihood of you losing certain...body-parts," the body guard that was free explained.
"And, how did I get myself into this?"
"You may say it was just the luck of the draw, you may say it was destiny. Whatever way you want to see it, there's still one way out."
"Tell me?"
"As soon as you get gravely injured, you will be rescued...This includes self-injury,"
I let go off the bodyguard, looked in disbelief, and my face paled. Although I wanted a way out of this, it was clear there wasn't. People came here to watch me, and in a sense, they believe in me 9: 1. Insecure and unwillingly, I agreed, "let's do this!".
"You are definitely our wildcard!" The bodyguards agreed.
"Why don't you go and take a look a the locker with your name on it and make some new friends?"