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Max’s room reminded him of the cheap hotel his family had used for a trip over the summer to go to the Newport Beaches. It had a minibar and old-fashioned television and telephone devices, like something out of a museum. The bed was foam and springs!
He couldn’t get comfortable. He would have torn up the bed and recycled it in the MC, but the room didn’t have one. He considered breaking the thing up and using it as feedstock for his Tesseract’s MC, but the room contract had said any damage would cost him credits.
Max had to turn off his ability to smell using his DigiSense skill. The smell of mold and mildew was driving him crazy. Despite being on the 4th floor and supposedly away from the Casino gaming floor, he could still hear the ringing and clinking of coins in the distance.
Max grabbed his room key and chip bag and made for the door when his group com-line chimed with a message.
[Hey Guys, I’m going to hit the sack. My augments are still cleaning up the radiation damage from the last level. I’m not sure what the days will look like with this level, but Dominic said we would have some time as the other teams trickle in. How about we get up bright and early to explore and make plans? See you in the morning?] Charlies sent.
[No problem, old timer. They have old-timey videos on these television things showing fight recordings from the level. I’m going to do a little research before bed.] Xavier replied.
[Very good. At least this room has a hot tub. See you in the morning!] Leah answered. Max sighed at the door to his room, he opened the chat feature.
[Sounds good, team. The concierge mentioned something about a continental breakfast as part of the room rate and since we don’t have MCs, I’m guessing we have no choice but to check it out. See you in the morning.] He sent and exited the room.
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Max wandered the outskirts of the gaming floor building up his map. He tagged several interesting establishments; a pawn shop, an old-fashioned saloon where the androids played into old Western stereotypes, several outfitters for custom arms and armor, and a few restaurants.
He shook his head, the prices in many of the places seemed small, but it would add up over time. The trackers he tagged the thieves with weren't nearby. One was in what he had labeled an NPC residential area, another was circulating about the gaming floor, and the third was far off his map into an unknown area.
He kept alert for new threats as smelled the enticing scent of grilled meat. He quickly zeroed in on a kebab street cart being minded by a jolly android. Max made his way through the throng of milling NPCs. Max's stomach growled at the sight and aroma of the delicious food being cooked. He offered up the pittance of 2 copper chips for a pair of skewers.
Max strolled through the pulsating neon corridors of the Casino Terminál; his ears perked up with curiosity as he scanned the various augmentation training grounds. His humanoid body moved with a fluid grace, his augmented senses taking in every detail of the bustling environment. Mal sent him a concerned internal question.
“[Max, perhaps we shouldn't be out here without your team as backup? You heard what Dominic said, this isn't a safe zone.]”
“[Technically, I’m not alone. I've got you and my daemons, right? Everybody on full alert and chime up if you see trouble, okay?]” Max sent. He spied a couple of players at the closest table playing a card game with some NPCs. They locked eyes briefly and his system pinged him with a notification.
[Privacy skill - Failed]
[Privacy skill - Success]
[Privacy +1, Privacy reaches level 9]
His daemons all commented, triggered by his earlier comment.
“[Those players must have been the origin of that identification. You mustn't let it go unanswered, should try to identify them back.]” Miyamoto said, with steel in his voice. Max focused on the pair and triggered the skill.
“[Judging by their pallid skin, ethnic features, and their uniforms with the EUS logo. I predict that these are the remaining members of the Eurosport team that Dominic mentioned. Nigel and Abigail.]” Sherlock said.
[Identify: Nigel Farnsworth, Strength: 100, Will: 84, Energy: 386, K-Gun: 10]
[Identify: Abigail Humphrey, Perception: 200, Agility: 19, Energy: 12,315, Chameleon:10]
“[What the hell? Those stats and energy can’t be right?]” Max thought aloud in his thought space.
“[I sense subterfuge as well. Everything I’ve read has augmentation stats capped at 100.]” Sherlock sent.
“[Hmm, some of your skills have evolved as counters to skill attacks. I bet that when your Privacy skill evolves, you get some ability to send bogus stats. Although, Abigail’s data is so extreme that its not believable…unless she is sending a message.]” Mal sent.
The large man, Nigel, waved Max over. Max deftly stepped through the crowd of NPC androids over to the table. Abigail held up a hand to the dealer robot for a pause and Nigel greeted Max.
“Hey there, Max. Team Utopia did pretty well in the foundation phase levels. You and that alien guy take cosplay to another level, guv.” Nigel said.
Max smiled as he pulled out a seat and sat down. “Yeah, but I’m not playing. This is the real me. I’m…I guess the first uplift dog…” Max slowed down seeing Nigel’s expression turning angry.
“Are you callin’ me a liar, bruv? Ya think you can just roll up on me and insult me like it dinnae mean nuthin? You ARE a bloody cosplayer. Ya pretending at being a real human as if you could ever measure up, hey.” Nigel snarled.
Max froze and started to get up but Nigel grabbed his wrist with augmented speed. “Nah, bruv. Ye sat your furry ass down, now you gonna hafta play. Maybe I can't challenge you on the field just yet, but sure as shit you gonna pay for my time with some chip. Ante up, furball!”
Max struggled briefly, but Nigel’s grip was like iron. He saw in his peripheral senses some security android hurrying over. Abigail leaned back in her chair with a crooked smile and laughed.
“What a splendid introduction. My earnest companion, Nigel, always makes things so interesting. Most people don’t appreciate his particular brand of humor. Come, relax, put your holdings on the table. Let's have a wee game. This is a small-stakes table. You’re still fresh as a spring day with full entry credits. Just enjoy yourself, Max.” She crooned. Max sat back down and put his chip satchel on the table.
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Nigel's lips curled into a smirk. "Let's see whut this doggo's got."
Max nodded, still off-balance by Nigel's aggressive tone. "Fine. I'm game."
The NPC dealer had Max stack all his chips on the table in plain sight and counted them expertly with a glance. The other NPC gamblers had excused themselves as Nigel made his scene, so only the Players remained seated at the table. The security androids had stopped advancing but were still lingering in the area.
“Very good, gentle Players. Please snap on the grounding straps to prevent your augmented senses. The game is Texas Hold’em which is restricted to human only senses. Minimum buy-in is a gold chip.” Max choked audibly at the amount, but the dealer continued to shuffle the cards and ignored him. “You, ma’am, are small blind and the new gentleman is the big. Ante up, please.”
Max slapped on the table’s grounding strap and felt his some of his senses cut off.
[Casino Restriction Cable detected. Permission to allow Table to filter data from Skills Motes/Drone/Swarm, Access, Hacker, Intrusion, and ExaVision in the vicinity of Table for fair play. Y/N?]
Max accepted the restrictions, feeling some of his senses diminish. He panicked as the dealer looked at him. Max counted the chips in his satchel. His initial amount of five thousand credits had been converted into 20 Copper, 28 Silver, 17 gold, and 3 Platinum chips. He pushed over a gold chip, worth 100 credits, and received his cards.
Max panicked seeing the cards, unsure as to how to play the game. Sherlock groaned inside his head. Sherlock promised to help him out and give him advice on how to play.
“[Oh dear, Max, a seven and a deuce of hearts. Normally I would advise you to fold but as the big blind, you have little choice as you are initially already committed to seeing the flop.]” Sherlock said.
Max glanced at his cards nervously, feeling the weight of the situation. Abigail had bought fully into the ante as small blind, by raising her initial half ante to the full amount. Max checked at Sherlock's direction, and Nigel called with a confident smile, pushing a gold chip into the center of the table.
The tension at the table was palpable as Max awaited the flop. Nigel's eyes bore into him, both hungry and amused at once. Abigail observed with an enigmatic smile, seemingly enjoying the drama unfolding before her. Max felt half-blind as his WorldMap skill couldn’t see the table at all. He had to rely on his point of view only.
The dealer expertly revealed the flop cards, and Max's heart quickened at the sight. An ace of hearts, an ace of spades, and a ten of hearts. Max panicked as everyone was looking at him.
“[Max, my man, the odds of getting the flush are 50%. Not the best, but you’ve got nothing else.]” Captain Cipher said, causing Max’s ears to drop.
“[Stay the course, Max. Just check for now and pay less attention to your cards and watch the others.]” Sherlock said sternly.
Max checked. Nigel looked smug as he reached for his chips, but Abigail stayed composed. Max gulped as Nigel raised the stakes with another gold chip. Abigail added her own. Max wilted, but Sherlock egged him on. He slowly added another gold.
The tension thickened as the next card was revealed, and Max's pulse quickened, knowing every move was critical in this high-stakes game. The card was the king of clubs. Max swore to himself.
“[You’re not out yet, Max. You could still complete the flush with the next card, a 25% possibility.]” Captain Cipher enthusiastically cheered him on.
“[While that is true, at the moment you still have nothing that will prevail, Max. Check again and hope that Nigel and Abigail let the next card come without upping the stakes.]”
Nigel checked the hand, but Abigail raised it by another five silver chips, worth 50 credits. Max grudgingly passed the additional chips into the pile in the middle of the table. As the dealer expertly revealed the final card, Max's heart raced at the sight of the queen of hearts.
He had completed his flush. Max excitedly checked and Sherlock howled in his head in outrage and frustration.
“[Damn it, boy. I was about to tell you to raise. It's quite likely you will win, but you need to bet appropriately. Bet too much and you will scare them away. Checking won't get you anything more than the meager amount in the pot already, that was the last time for you to bet unless they escalate.]” Sherlock scolded.
Nigel's smug expression didn't falter as he confidently raised the stakes once more by another 2 gold, and Abigail calmly matched his bet. Max took a moment to breathe, while Sherlock advised that Max should match it. Max pushed the required two more gold chips into the pile.
“Excellent. If there are no further bets, please turn your cards over.” the dealer said.
Max confidently flipped his cards with a grin. Nigel smashed his fists down. His three-of-a-kind aces were normally a great hand but fell short against Max’s flush. Max reached for the chips, but Abigail tutted.
“Max, dearie. You are a bit premature. Look at my cards.” she said smugly.
Max’s heart dropped into his stomach as he saw Abigail had a flush too. She was holding a king and jack of hearts, making hers a higher flush than his. Abigail laughed a bubbly laugh and spoke.
“A rough play of luck there. You know, I really shouldn't say anything but you need to control your tail better. If you had wagged it any harder, I suspect you might have fallen out of your seat. Waitress, a round of drinks on me. Come on, Pup Dog. No hard feelings. Let's go again.”
Max grumbled as the dealer pushed the small blind chip in front of him and shifted the large to Nigel. Sherlock was quick to whisper advice as Max shook himself. Mal spoke up.
“[Max, I’m sorry! I haven't been taking this seriously. This a just a different type of combat. We have skills we should be using! Empathy, Memory, Pattern, Poker Face! Damn it, it's right in the name of the skill. That would have prevented her from reading you like she did.]”
“[Alright, guys. You heard her. Let's go, but we need to work together to win. Cipher, keep counting cards and probabilities. Sherlock, I need your help and your game advice. Miyamoto, run the Empath skill and keep a sharp eye on the other players. Mal, run Poker Face and bring my cog speed up between bets so that we can talk about the options.]”
“Hey, Newbie. Let's make this more interesting. The casino offers bracelets that can disable your poison resistance. Every losing hand has to take a shot! Unless you want to run back to the villas with your tail between your legs? Ha ha hah!” Nigel said, gathering a tray filled with shots from a passing android waitress.
[Casino Restriction Cable signal detected. Permission to allow Table to filter Poison Resistance to allow Alcoholic effects. Y/N?]
Max grinned toothily but without humor, accepted the restriction, and lifted the shot.
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Max struggled to open his eyes. Mal was yelling at him in his head, but he was fuzzy and couldn’t focus. Notifications filled his vision.
[Quest Update - Small Timer (1 of 10): Win small (of less than 20,000 credits) stakes games and wagers to prove your skill in judgment.]
[Poison Resistance - set to allow alcohol. Blood Alcohol level: 0.15]
Max groaned and tried to wave the notices away. He struggled to move as he realized he was face down in a pile of trash. The stench filled his sensitive nose and a wave of nausea hit him. He lifted himself in a rush and retched to the side. He fell back as the dim alley spun in his vision.
“[God damn it, Max! Either give me access to your poison resistance skill or reactivate it yourself. It's not safe here, those android crooks might come back!]” Mal yelled.
Max, still groggy, reset all his skills to full function as he struggled to sit. He sighed as the nausea passed and his skill began to filter the alcohol out of his system aggressively. His pounding head receded and localized as his regeneration reasserted its full power. He rubbed the back of his head. A bump revealed that the booze wasn’t the only source of his migraines.
“Wha’appened? Ish a ‘ittle fuzzy still. I won.” Max mumbled.
“[Yes, you lost several rounds but did finally manage to win one. Despite our combined advice to desist with the drinking challenge, you were thoroughly intoxicated. You muted and locked all your daemons and me out. I was able to break out of my locked-out state and provide assistance when that pair of android ruffians knocked you down.]” Mal answered.
“Woah. Thievesh. Wuzz. Where’s my satchel? Mal?” Max said with increasing awareness and concern.
“[Bad news, Max. They took what little was left of your chips. They were trying to strip off your grappler when I gave them a taste of your Shocking touch applied to your entire body. Unfortunately, they departed with the money.]” Mal said.
“Ohhh…Damn, this sucks! I thought I could handle the shots. I’m so sorry.” Max said, trying to stand and wipe the vomit off his fur. Mal sighed in his head.
“[I hope you take this as a lesson, not to play alone. We need to get you back to your room. It’s three in the morning. Maybe you can still get some sleep, once you’re safe in your bed.]”
“Thanks, Mal. Fuck. Let’s keep this between us, okay? If the team hears about it, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Max said as he staggered down the alley.
“[Max, turn around. The Player Villas are two streets back. Let’s go. Hurry up now. There might be more androids looking to take advantage of your condition.]”
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