The ocean was only an hour away from Eastmouth, and along the ocean, there was a road. The view was glamorous, and perhaps that was why tourists frequented Cape Carlos so much. It took two extra hours’ worth of driving to get there, and Isabella didn’t regret even a second of it.

The breeze of the ocean refreshed her as she drove just below the speed limit, which was practically as fast as she could go. With no worry of traffic accidents, it was no surprise that she was so carefree.

Isabella didn’t like country roads, which was why she had a Driveaway service bring her old third-hand Honda Civic to Michigan all the way from California.

But this kind of country road, and with zero risk at that?

That was perfect.

She’d have been uneasy about the road that overlooked the sea with nothing but a thin, metal rail to keep her from falling before. Not anymore, though. There was nothing to fear on the road when she could foresee any accident she could possibly be in.

Sometime after eight, she made it there.

Thanks to her newly found freedom, which was the lack of a job, sleeping until the wee hours of noon was acceptable and she’d done just that. Waking up at twelve o’clock on a weekday was a surreal feeling after years of university coupled with part-time jobs, and then the last two months of work.

As seedy as some of the neighborhoods in Cape Carlos were, the commercial districts were dazzling. Especially when it was dark outside and they turned on the lights —most of the buildings had bright lights hanging from them, or rather, built into them. There were fountains with lights underneath them, giving off a magical look.

This place almost reminded her of Vegas.

Not that she was ever there, but she’d seen it in movies and it seemed like a great place. If you looked closely, you’d see that Cape Carlos wasn’t as dazzling but it was still impressive. Like a supersized amusement park.

Online gambling was an option, as she’d come to find out yesterday but Isabella had to visit Cape Carlos.

It was a popular tourist spot, and thanks to not having an airport of itself, it was the reason most of the people that were on a flight to Eastmouth —that meant it was where Supers appeared for the first time.

Some of the Supers never left, explaining the presence of her illegal gun in her glove compartment, which was there for safety.

If she managed to make some money, track down some decently powerful Super and hire them all in one go, all the better. That, and she wanted to visit a casino, courtesy of her overprotective parents not allowing that before she cut off ties with them.

Isabella’s life had started anew after she came to Eastmouth, and this was the first real vacation she’d gotten after it started. It came in the form of being fired, but why work when you could make a hefty sum from a casino whenever you wished?

She shook her head and banished the thoughts.

First, she had to make the money and she had the perfect game in mind —roulette. Just walking in with 1,000 on hand could let her make a hefty sum. She could bet a thousand on a single after foreseeing it and that’d instantly score her 35,000 if she understood the rules correctly.

Something along those lines, at least.

Some rounds of free online roulette taught her the basics and that’s all she needed to know to make big money.

Isabella just had to mix in a few losses and wins on generic bets, like on Even Numbers or on the Colors. Then no one could really blame her luck if she wins more than a hundred thousand before leaving —that was two-thirds of her annual salary. Less if she took away the third that went to taxes.

Maybe she could get a million out.

That made Isabella scoff.

People minimized their losses and played it safe, or they threw care to the wind and gambled it all. Those people winning a million from roulettes with only a thousand would be absurd, but for Isabella, who already knew the winning number already, it wouldn’t be very much an issue. At least in terms of getting the money.

Then Isabella thought about it after she parked her car a good ways away from the casino.

It’d set off alarms if she earned too much so walking away with a modest 250,000 would be enough. It wouldn’t let her bribe people like the Piper did nor would it be enough to be considered a lot of money, but she’d visit again. Maybe after a week.

“I hope that affords a month,” mumbled Isabella and slunk back to her seat and stared out the window. The ocean would’ve been visible to her left but it was already dark. The sun had set and only the reflection of the city lights in the dark waters could be seen, which meant she couldn’t see appreciate the beauty.

But she’d done that enough of that on the road.

There were three casinos in Coast Carlos —relatively honest ones. In total, it was something along the lines of eight but she wasn’t willing on betting in the seedy circles. That’d be alright if Isabella had powers that could let her escape a kidnapping, but all that her powers allowed was managing to succeed in something that was already possible, but extremely difficult by virtue of constant repetition.

If she was against ten men with guns?

That wasn’t on the level of extremely difficult. Instead, it was outright impossible. Against one man with a gun, she’d win once in every ten tries or so—that meant she’d win.

For a moment, Isabella stared at the glove compartment.

The gun was there, just within her reach. If need be, she could use it. But none of the decent casinos allowed guns. The seedier ones, on the other hand, did. It was an illegal firearm but no one bothered to check. It probably was legal, though. Just not legal if she was the one using it, as she didn’t have a license yet.

Was that how it worked?

That called for some research, but begrudgingly, Isabella left the gun in the car and hopped off, dressed in the same leathery black suit that she’d worn on Saturday and Monday.

Maybe she was too lazy to iron her other clothes after doing the laundry.

In her inside pocket was a wallet, and inside it was a thousand bucks. That, and an extra five hundred for any refreshments if she needed any. It was perhaps too much or too little, but she had no idea how much she should have brought.

She stood outside the massive building with a big, bold sign that said ‘Paradis Borealis’ near the entrance, lit up by colorful neon lights that gave it the feel of a building near a beach, and that would be correct, for Cape Carlos had decent beaches as well —it just wasn’t the main attraction.

The building was technically a hotel building and the casino took up three floors, which wasn’t a lot when it had a total of thirty floors but it probably had more guests in the casino at any one time than it did in the hotel compartment for the day.

Then again, those groups weren’t mutually exclusive and anyone that was staying in the hotel had a high likelihood of visiting the casino.

And she walked in and was instantly assailed by the sound of jazz music that seemed too outdated. People with suits or shorts were walking around, melding together seamlessly.

The interior design was fancy: the floors were lined with beige tiles that weren’t as slippery as some places she’d been in, probably made of a sort of stone. The walls had a wood aesthetic while the pillars and the ceiling were white, like marble from which Greek statues were built. The light didn’t come from a fancy chandelier but little circles lined with stainless steel built into the ceiling.

But she couldn’t appreciate it, for it was bustling with people.

Isabella pitied the receptionists who had to deal with this workload.

There was a massive sign with neon lights with ‘CASINO’ written in capitals hanging every ten meters along with an arrow pointing to the elevators as if the owners of the place were aware that it was their main source of attraction. There was also a smaller text beneath it, which read ‘Floor 10 - 13’.

“Let me go!” shouted a woman hysterically, clawing away at the two men in suits and shades that were escorting her out, kicking around, “I’m telling you! This isn’t my body! Ask me anything about that body. I’ll answer it perfectly!”

The guards didn’t seem to care, though, quietly dragging her out of the hotel, making Isabella follow the woman with her eyes, staring at what a literal madwoman was like.

Maybe talking to herself every once in a while wasn’t all that bad. What if she went hysterical like that?

“It’s you,” said a man with a nasal voice loud enough to grab her attention as he snaked around Isabella before he finally made his way in front of her, “That suit really… suits you. No pun intended, I assure you.”

It was a man that stood a good head taller than Isabella, which wasn’t a real challenge —she wasn’t the tallest— but it still meant that he was decently tall. His face was adorned with a mustache that was the same dirty blond as his hair, which was hidden by a striped fedora, which went along with his suit that had a similar aesthetic.

But he was colorful.

The fedora had a purple band and his shirt was also purple. Then he wore a polka dot necktie with a lighter shade of purple as a base and white points. There was also a mixture of gold among the plethora of colors he had, which consisted of two of his missing teeth that had been replaced with golden ones.

“It’s been a… while,” said Isabella awkwardly.

She’d ask who this man was if she didn’t clearly remember the blabbermouth being seated next to her on the plane with his iconic clothing.

“A long while,” said the old man and tapped his cane on the ground, which was previously on his shoulders for whatever reason, “Very, very long.”

Was he a Super?

He felt like one, at least. Was odd enough to pass as one even without a flashy costume that shouted ‘Hey there, I’m a superhero! Look at me! I suck at finding proper clothes to wear so I wore my underwear outside my pants!’

“Here to gamble away, eh?” asked the old man, “All alone? Never took you for an avid gambler.”

“Math teacher. It’s in the job description,” said Isabella and gave him a smile, “I’m good at it.”

“Bah. Statistics in gambling. I like your fancy words, magic woman,” said the old man and shook his head slowly, a grin on his face. Or maybe that grin was stuck there and he never bothered to change the expression.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Combinatorial and probability calculus with a whole lot of luck and money,” corrected Isabella, out of reflex more than anything else.

There was also a not-so-tiny part of her that wished her nerd speech would chase the clingy old man away.

For the entire duration of the four-hour flight, he never once shut up.

Super or not, Isabella wanted to get rid of the walking fossil and go on with her business. Her ears weren’t built for that kind of strain, nor was her brain.

“Now then, unless you’re planning on keeping me company, I’d prefer it if you left me alone,” said Isabella through clenched teeth hidden behind her thin smile that anyone well-versed in emotions could see as fake.

“Hey, hey. Just wanted to say hello to an old friend, yenno?” asked the old man and shrugged, nearly slapping someone with his cane.

But he didn’t.

“From the plane and all. There’s only so many of us,” he said.

“If you’re assuming that I’m a Super, then I got bad news for you. I’m not,” she said.

“You aren’t?” asked the old man with a raised eyebrow, and then he leaned down with his thumb and index finger pinching his own chin, like some ancient philosopher, “You sure? Maybe you just haven’t awakened it yet.”

“Even if I am one and haven’t awakened it yet,” said Isabella and held her hand in front of the old man’s face. Then she flicked his forehead and added slightly quieter, “You’re too close.”

She knew that he was a good sport, at least.

Isabella assumed that when you were such a prater, it was a given to be a good sport. People wouldn’t condone it forever so getting yelled at or told off for that habit of his almost every day was a given. Perhaps that played into him being laxer than most.

“Ouch,” said the old man and withdrew, standing back up. Then he pulled out a little square paper from his breast pocket and gestured it in front of her face, “Whatever, then. If you awaken a decent power, hit me up, yeah? I’ll hook you up with some people that pay a fortune to hire Supers. Definitely more than you can make in a casino.”

Isabella had forgotten his name but was refreshed by the name card. It said he worked here in Paradis Borealis as a Security Guard and that his name was: Gregory.

Right, he was Greg. She remembered that now.

But hire her?

Did that mean he was a Super?

No one would hire an old man like him for a security guard position in a place like this if he wasn’t unless he was some sort of retired military man that served in Afghanistan or something of the sort.

Especially in Cape Carlos.

“How much?” she asked, halting him from turning around, which he was deliberately doing slower than possible.

“Interested, huh?” asked Greg and instantly sprung back.

“Interested in the pay,” said Isabella, giving emphasis on which part she wanted to know, “For purely educational purposes.”

“I thought you were a math teacher,” said Greg.

“A curious math teacher,” she corrected.

“It’s a thirty grand a month,” he said and Isabella closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

Only… thirty grand?

Was she overestimating how much they made?

No, no. That couldn’t be it. They were risking their lives and fighting Supers, and they only got twenty grand even with their powers?

That was about thrice her wage but she was a teacher, and if you didn’t consider getting pissed off at kids a hazard, it was ridiculous to even compare those two. Or maybe she was downplaying how much of a difference twenty grand was per month.

“Thirty?” she asked.

“It’s not a lot, I know. But look at this place. Does it look seedy to you?” asked Greg and shook his head, “No way I’m getting directly involved with the dangerous guys. They’re scary, even with my powers and I’m not risking it for some extra cash.”

That made sense, oddly.

“Hit me,” said Isabella.

“What?” Greg asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Hit me,” she repeated and Greg stared at her for a bit, “Just do it.”

“Is it a power showcase? In which case, we should do it somewhere private,” said Greg and leaned closer to her ear to whisper, “I’ll get a pay cut if I let you do that indoors.”

“Do it,” said Isabella.

Reluctantly, Greg brought his hand in front of her forehead and gave her a flick.

The jazz in the background was gone, replaced by the faint sound of the waves smashing into shore a few hundred feet away from her, but the noise of the city overpowered that, complete with its honks and the chatter of people.

The instant she appeared, she closed her eyes and waited for the ten seconds to pass.

In front of her was the entrance, clear that she hadn’t entered it yet.

Isabella still couldn’t control her powers and didn’t even understand how it worked, but it helped her nonetheless. To evade Greg and his suspicions after her somewhat fishy behavior, she had to not run into him at all.

If she had to go along with his blabbering any more than two times, Isabella had a very real risk of getting pissed off enough at him to hit the guy.

And she would.

There were no consequences to her actions, after all. If she hit him, looped back time, and acted as if nothing happened, she’d seem coolheaded. But she wouldn’t be. She’d just have used a great stress relief method while no one was looking in the most literal sense possible.

This time, Isabella waited outside and that meant the madwoman from before was escorted out before she entered the building, and she could hear the rest of her antics.

“I swear I’m sane,” she pleaded, her makeup ruined after she’d cried for no small amount of time. She clung to the bodyguard, hugging her, “Don’t send me there!”

There?

A mental institute?

Then came the siren of a police car —when you heard enough of them, you could distinguish the difference, and it was definitely a police siren. The tune of police sirens played faster than that of an ambulance siren and fire trucks sounded different altogether.

“Just let me prove it!” shouted the woman, “This isn’t my body!”

Definitely some sort of nut-job.

***

When you had powers, you had to make people believe that you didn’t when you were cheating with it. If Isabella got found out, she’d probably be chased out of the place. Even if just having powers wasn’t proof enough, casino owners would be skeptical enough if she won and had powers at the same time.

Especially if she won a lot.

And this was her third win in a row: once for the color, once for a street, and finally, once for a straight-up. Each of them had a thousand put on them and that meant she’d won a total of 47,000, which was a massive amount.

She could pay off most of her remaining debt with that.

Of course, she did spend a few thousand on other numbers she knew she’d lose on to avoid seeming suspicious —no one just placed chips on a single number and called it a day, so in reality, she only had 40,000 in pure profit and had lost the rest.

Working while studying with her living expenses taken care of meant that she could manage to pay off some of her total tuition from her part-time job, not to mention freelancing gigs teaching rich kids.

That scored her a job in Neptune High in the first place.

Now… she had to lose, and considering that she’d foreseen a total of seven games, it’d be easy to simply lose on two of them and then win two more times.

Once with a big bet of ten grand on a Corner, which was the maximum allowed while the maximum for a Single was 2,500. If she won two Straight-Ups today, at the same table, then it’d be suspicious, after all.

That, and the difference wasn’t even ten grand.

She had to account for her debt, the taxes, and her current lack of any profit outside these winnings. But not for long, so the debt could be put aside for a bit.

If Isabella was to truly live free, then the Piper needed to be taken care of —a filthy rich man who could employ several Supers. Robbing him wouldn’t leave a sour taste in her mouth so all her expenses would be aimed at that.

And paying the bills and mortgage.

That’s when Isabella realized that her life was exactly like that of her parents: living from one salary to the next, struggling to pay off her debts and all the money she owed to the world just by being alive.

She didn’t like that.

“That’s a big win,” said the woman next to her, “You seem to be a regular and I haven’t seen you around. Recently moved here?”

That didn’t happen before.

Then again, she just went ahead and had fun, trying her luck on the last try and lost no small amount of money —there was nothing professional about that.

The brunette wore a long red dress and had short curly hair and a bang hung before her left eye, covering it fully. Dimples appeared on her cheeks when she smiled or closed her mouth at all, and she was smiling right now.

“You’re too calm after winning so much money,” said the woman and pulled down her shades to her nose and looked Isabella up and down, “You don’t look that rich, but I suppose moderately rich people don’t try to impress.”

Isabella had taken all but a thousand grand’s worth of chips, which was left on Red, which was the rectangle with a red diamond shape on it. Isabella would inevitably lose but she didn’t care about just a thousand dollars.

Not now.

“And why is that your business?” asked Isabella as she tried to put on her best professional smile —one that didn’t look like it was a false one. She had to act happy.

“It’s not. I just like talking to people. Coming here all alone is a bore, isn’t it?” asked the woman and leaned closer, “I’d recognize someone traveling alone. I’m doing just that, after all.”

“Why would you think that? Maybe I have a jacked boyfriend sleeping in a hotel room upstairs,” asked Isabella as she stared at the roulette.

The first game concluded and the second one started.

“No reason. I just feel like you are,” said the woman and quite creepily, directly at Isabella.

She ignored the stranger.

The second game had finished and it was time to make money.

First, she started out with a street, which had a payout ratio of 1:11, meaning she’d get ten grand by winning it, and she did, easily enough.

“Today really is your lucky day,” said the stranger and leaned onto her shoulder with closed eyes.

Snap.

“You’re too calm after winning so much money,” cooed the stranger, and Isabella’s eyes widened.

That was a loop!

And it happened when the woman leaned on her.

“You don’t look that rich, but I suppose moderately rich people don’t try to impress,” she added.

That-

That threw her count off.

Isabella had to pay attention to the roulette to see what number it was, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t humor her.

In fact, it was a perfect opportunity if this woman was a Super. Even if it was a sort of assassin, it’d be the perfect opportunity.

The casino was loud enough for those that were too far from them to overhear anything, and at the table, there were a total of five seats —three were full, including theirs and the last one was on the other side.

That meant they could talk without anyone overhearing it if they were quiet enough.

“And what if I’m rich and traveling alone?” asked Isabella as a smile crept upon her face, changing up the game.

But she needed to be sure first.

Looping back to that moment meant that she wouldn’t loop too far away, as playing at the table yet again wasn’t really her idea of enjoyment, especially since she had to perfectly replicate the situation by joining the table at the exact same time she did.

Or the roulettes results would get scrambled as the dealer spent a second longer on Isabella, making her research moot.

But Isabella managed to create a perfect replica of her previous loops, which took far too many tries —more than she’d care to admit.

“Then I’ll be a really happy woman in that skin,” said the stranger as she came closer, and then inevitably, she touched Isabella.

It all clicked now.

That madwoman from before that screamed about not being in her own body. The creepy questions, her lines… everything.

And there came another loop, which forced Isabella to close her eyes for ten seconds.

“You’re too calm after winning so much money,” cooed the Super and Isabella noticed the stranger looking at her as if it was a predator eyeing her prey, with her glasses down.

“I am. It’s easy once you’ve figured out the game,” said Isabella before the Super finished her sentence. After failing to start her sentence, the Super tried once again and opened her mouth.

That was prevented as well.

Isabella pressed a finger against her lips.

If the stranger liked direct contact, then she’d give it.

“Ah, ah,” said Isabella and leaned close enough for their cheeks to touch, and she whispered into the Super’s ears, “Place all you have on three.”

After saying that, Isabella pulled back her chips and left only two of them on the board.

She needed to lose twice with her old strategy, but that didn’t apply.

So she put ten grand on a Corner that included the number 3, which would yield her 80,000.

“I-I’m not so sure about that,” said the Super after Isabella pulled back. The stutter was unexpected.

“Do it,” said Isabella, her voice stern.

“Listen here. I don’t even know you-” started the Super.

“Clock is ticking,” she said, yet again interrupting her.

“You-” started the Super but stopped of her own volition, pulled out one chip worth a hundred dollars and put it on three.

The roulette started spinning.

“Good decision,” said Isabella.

“And what makes you so confident?” asked the Super, gritting her teeth.

“Because I’m always right,” said Isabella and turned to the table, “Eyes on the roulette.”

“That’s impossible,” said the Super and shook her head. But inevitably, her eyes were drawn to the roulette.

“Just as swapping bodies is impossible,” she said, “Yet here you are, doing it like it’s no one’s business.”

The Super’s eyes widened and her jaw slightly dropped down.

“You-” started the Super.

“See, I know one of the guards here. If I walk up to him, tell him about you being in my body, regardless of what I look like, your guise will be blown. Casinos have really good cameras, by the way. They can definitely pick up people collapsing after someone touches them,” said Isabella and gave her a wink, “For now, collect your prize. If anyone asks about what I whispered, say that we’re friends and it was private talk.”

The Super turned to the roulette and saw the ball tightly resting on the number 3.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the Super mumbled.

“It’s Isabella,” she said and gave her a light tap on the shoulder, as friends would, “Your name.”

That’s what they did… right?

The Super absent-mindedly picked up her winnings.

“I’m leaving the table,” said Isabella out loud for both the Super and the dealer to hear, “Oh, and here you go. It’s a tip. I have to say, you have a golden hand.”

She’d won four times in a row so it was obviously fishy, and doing any more would be even fishier.

After she told the Super about the winning number, her actions would change. And those actions changing would cause the dealer’s actions to change. If the dealer’s actions changed, then that meant the roulette would be different than what it would be otherwise.

Isabella slid a stack of five chips worth a thousand.

Everything was going according to her plans so she had to be confident.

This would be reality —that meant she had to be confident.

“Meet me outside. Doesn’t have to be that body,” whispered Isabella and gave her a wink.

“I, ugh- this. I mean my name is Jessie,” said the Super awkwardly, "Not really name, but- you get the idea."

She was used to stealing bodies but not when they weren’t helpless, apparently.