Two Years Ago
Shhka-shhka-shhk.
Click!
The abandoned warehouse looms in a shroud of decay and neglect. Once gleaming steel and glass have dulled under years of grime. The air was thick with the mustiness of mold and stale tobacco smoke.
In the center of the warehouse, a solitary wooden table commands attention. Its surface, scarred and scratched from years of rough use, surrounded by a tight circle of gamblers. Their movements are cautious and deliberate. The occasional rattle of dice in cups punctuates the silence, mingling with murmurs of negotiation and bluffing.
Tension hangs heavily. Each roll of the dice was a heartbeat of suspense, a moment of potential fortune or disaster.
“Seven 5s,” Roy announced suddenly.
His outburst draws the gaze of everyone at the table and the spectators watching from the sidelines. Their faces, briefly illuminated by his enthusiasm, reflect a mix of awe and irritation.
“Call. Spot on, Roy!” a middle-aged man with a solid physique exclaims, his voice filled with excitement. He had previously bid four 6s.
In Liar’s dice, players can either raise the bid or call a bluff. If the challenged player’s claim is false, they lose the round. If the claim is true, the challenger loses.
The dice were revealed. Including the three wilds (1s), there were more than enough 5s to match Roy’s bid. Mr. Martin and the other players discarded one die. Each player should have five dice, concealed in their cups. Mr. Martin now has four dice remaining, while the other two players each have three. Roy’s dice are untouched.
The discarded dice are gathered and set aside. The tension dissolves into a reflective silence as the next round begins. The warehouse echoes with the renewed rhythm of strategy and anticipation.
Mr. Martin, feeling the sting of repeated losses, quietly exits the table. But as he heads for the exit, a young woman’s voice catches his attention. Curiosity piqued, he returns to observe.
The young woman challenged Roy to a duel.
Intrigued, Mr. Martin decided to stay. Typically, he would return home dejected, waiting for his rental income before gambling again.
“Let’s play rock, paper, scissors five times,” she suggested with a fierce glint in her eyes. Her voice, steady and unwavering, leaves no room for doubt. “After that, you can decide if you’ll accept my challenge.”
Roy, intrigued, tilts his head and crosses his arms. Curiosity sparkles in his eyes as he considers the challenge. Playing a simple game like rock, paper, scissors wasn’t beneath him; rather, he was fascinated by her audacity and determination.
“Alright,” Roy said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “But if you lose, I expect you to head back home. Consider it a favor to your family."
A mischievous smile spreads across Yuna's face as if she's already savoring her impending victory. Her eyes glint with a playful confidence, and the corners of her mouth curl up in a self-assured grin.
Both players slam their fists into their palms and shout, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
Roy revealed his hand, fingers spread in the shape of scissors, while Yuna's slender, delicate hand was clenched into a solid fist, representing rock.
Roy’s face tightens as he loses the first round. Leaning forward, he clenches his fist on his palm. “Ready.”
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
Her lips curl into a gentle smile as she wins again.
Roy sat back, stretching his arms and letting out a faint chuckle. His face, once marked by confident smirks, now displayed a more serious demeanor.
Martin’s thoughts raced as he watched Roy’s intense scrutiny of Yuna. He realized that his usual dominance in games had been rattled by this young woman’s skill and tenacity. In Martin’s eyes, Yuna had quickly become more than just a player—she was a worthy adversary who had managed to capture Roy’s full attention.
“What would you like to bet, young lady?” Roy asked with a tone of curiosity and competitive spirit.
A wave of murmurs swept across the table. The onlookers exchanged skeptical glances. Whispers rippled through the crowd as they struggled to comprehend Roy’s willingness to entertain a bet with someone who appeared so young and inexperienced.
“I suppose I’ve managed to convince you to play,” Yuna said, her eyes twinkling with quiet confidence. “My name is Yuna. I didn’t run away from home, as you might think. Let’s settle the stakes once the game is over.”
Yuna placed her dice in her cup and added, “Rest assured, you will lose.”
He leaned back, crossing his arms with a self-assured grin. “I’m ready for whatever you bring to the table. This is shaping up to be quite the match.”
Shhka-shhka-shhk.
Click!
Roy and Yuna slammed their cups onto the table with a decisive thud, the dice inside rattling ominously. The warehouse fell into a tense silence.
Yuna’s gaze was sharp and calculating as she peeked inside her cup. Her eyes narrowed slightly, “Two 4s,” she announced, her voice steady but edged with a hint of challenge.
“Three 4s.”
“Four 4s!”
Roy’s gaze sharpened. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, young lady? I don’t play just anyone. But when I do, I play seriously,” he warned, the confidence in his voice unmistakable. “Five 4s.”
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Yuna hesitated for a fleeting moment, her eyes narrowing as she weighed her options. The silence around the table seemed to stretch, each second amplifying the suspense.
“Let’s see the dice,” Yuna said in a firm tone.
Roy’s smirk broadened as he revealed his dice, his gaze steady on Yuna. The dim light highlighted his three 4s (including a wild die), including a 5 and a 2.
The audience and the previous player exchanged knowing looks, clearly convinced that Roy had won this round.
If there are enough 4s on the table to match Roy’s bid of “Five 4s” (including the wild which is 1), then Roy’s claim is valid, and he wins the round.
But then the twist came.
Yuna slowly revealed her dice, one at a time. There was only a single wild die. The rest? None bore the face of a 4.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Roy's smirk faltered.
The dice clattered as they were re-rolled, echoing off the warehouse walls like distant thunder. Roy, without even glancing at his cup, leaned forward with a sly grin.
“Three 2s,” he called, his voice steady, daring. His eyes never left Yuna's face.
Yuna, unshaken, responded just as swiftly. “Four 2s,” she countered, her tone unwavering. The speed of their bids sent murmurs through the crowd. Had either of them even checked their dice?
Yuna’s call of "four 2s" seemed reckless to the onlookers due to the limited number of dice—only nine remained. The fact that neither Yuna nor Roy peeked under their cups added to the tension, making her bold bid appear even more daring and impulsive.
Martin's anticipation grew as he watched the intense match. As expected, Roy, called for the cups to be revealed.
With a dramatic flourish, Roy lifted his cup, revealing a single 2 nestled among his dice.
Yuna followed suit, her expression calm but intense as she revealed her dice. To everyone's astonishment, she uncovered three 2s.
Roy’s gaze turned skeptical, a mix of disbelief and suspicion flickering in his eyes. How could Yuna be so certain there were enough 2s when she hadn’t peeked at her dice? Or hadn't she?
“I don’t usually lie, sir. But if I do, my father wouldn’t know.” A smirk curved her lips.
She had outsmarted the King!
Martin, among the onlookers, couldn’t suppress a chuckle, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he silently praised Yuna’s brilliance. He comprehended that both Yuna and Roy knew the true face values of their dice, adding a layer of strategic depth to the game.
Shhka-shhka-shhk.
Slammed!
The dice clattered as they were re-rolled. Roy, slammed his cup onto the table with a decisive thud, shouting, “Three 6s,” without even peeking at his dice again. His confident smirk seemed unshakeable.
Yuna studied her dice. Finally, she gave a sidelong glance at Roy’s cup, a thoughtful frown on her face. After a few seconds, she declared, “Well, you’re bluffing, Mr. Roy.”
Roy turned his head. “A perfect match! Am I right, Martin?” he grinned, his voice dripping with playful irony. “I saw you enjoy watching me get taken down a notch. Seems like today’s your lucky day.” He flashed a knowing grin. The crowd chuckled, sharing in the camaraderie of the moment.
Roy’s teasing remark drew a hearty laugh from Martin, who couldn’t resist a bit of playful revenge. “I guess even the King of Lies has to bow to a master of bluffing now and then,” Martin quipped with a grin. “You wouldn’t believe how satisfying it is to watch you sweat, Roy!”
Roy shot Martin an exaggerated look of mock indignation, crossing his arms with a dramatic sigh. “Oh, come on, Martin! You’re really milking this, aren’t you? I’ve finally experienced what it’s like to leave empty-handed.”
Their laughter fills the warehouse.
“Alright, let’s call it quits. You won!” he said with a theatrical expression. “Now tell me what you want, as long as it’s not my soul.”
He winked playfully, his grin widening. “I’d hate to have to explain to my fan club why I’m missing a vital organ. But seriously, what can I do for you? The stage is yours.”
“Can you lend me some money? I promise to pay it back in 12 months. A pickpocket took my bag, including all my money.” Her voice quivered just enough to convey her distress, hoping her situation would evoke sympathy and a sense of urgency.
Roy's voice took on a firm edge as he said, “I insist! Consider it a gift.” His eyes, sharp and unwavering, bore into Yuna’s as if daring her to refuse. “After all, it’s not every day someone manages to outwit me.” He pushed the wallet, bulging with cash, toward her with a decisive motion, his face a blend of playful insistence and a hint of intimidation. “Take it.” The tension in his voice made the gesture feel both generous and daunting.
Feeling a strong sense of guilt, Yuna accepts the money reluctantly.
As the crowd disperses, Yuna spots a sickly young man in his early twenties searching the area. She approaches him when only the two of them are left.
“Are you looking for pennies?” she asks.
“Unfortunate people like me have two choices: become a bum or a thief. You seemed smart but ignorant,” he responded with frustration.
“I apologize. I need help. I have cash, but I’m unfamiliar with the city. My essential documents, including school records, were stolen.” Her eyes pleaded for understanding and assistance, hoping to convey her dire need for aid.
Yuna had left her hometown for the first time, embarking on a journey that took almost a full day. Exhausted but hopeful, she finally took off from the bustling train station of the city. However, her troubles began when a deceitful taxi driver took advantage of her unfamiliarity with the area, delivering her to an unknown part of the city instead of her intended destination. And the worst was when a pickpocket, taking advantage of her distraction and exhaustion, snatched her bag. In an instant, her essential documents and all her money were gone.
“If we want a peaceful life, we have to get out of here immediately and start over with new identities.” His eyes darted around, clearly agitated. His voice trembled with urgency and anxiety as he spoke.
“Sure, I’ll follow your lead,” Yuna agrees.
“Right now,” he insists, pulling her away.
"Blake—that's the name I’ve chosen for my new life,” he said, his voice hurried. “They used to call me Blank because I don’t have any family. And, hey, don’t look at me like that! I might seem a bit worse for wear right now, but once I’m back to full health, you’ll see—I’m quite handsome!” His attempt at light-hearted banter was a deliberate effort to shift Yuna’s focus from the dangerous situation they were escaping.
Blake distracts Yuna as they leave the warehouse and take a cab.
Blake, relieved, sighs. “Something’s up?” Yuna asks, noting his anxious behavior.
“The truth is, I’m sick of this place. I haven’t had a proper meal in ages,”
Lie! The crowd was the nosy people surrounding Mr. Martin's house as he was murdered. Blake picked up a paper with the name list of some people who had been murdered the previous month. So four people have already been eradicated. Mr. Martin's name was the next.