Mardock Scramble полностью

The suit called, and just when it seemed that betting for this round was over,

“Raise.” It was the suit again. Returning fire, thorough and ruthless.

–Call.

So came Oeufcoque’s orders. The cowboy called, as did Balot. $510, now.

The Doctor, however, folded, laying his cards on the table. Ho hum, he grumbled. But Balot was the one who sighed.

After the suit called again, the cowboy called too. Moreover, “Raise, sixty dollars,” he added.

Oeufcoque was telling her to call again. She obeyed. She was now up to $570.

The suit called, and finally the round was over. There was nearly two thousand dollars in the pot.

This stupid sum of money was about to flutter away like a paper plane.

The old gentleman and the potbelly, though both out of the hand, were watching the progress with deep interest.

The dealer discarded the burn card for the third time this hand, then revealed the river card, the fifth and final community card.

They were in the final round of betting.

Balot looked at it without thinking, and it was all she could do not to reveal her disappointment.

The card was 7. She’d come this far, and in the end all she was left with was a pair of sevens. Or were the suit and cowboy both bluffing too, and did she have enough to beat them even with her weak hand?

Oeufcoque should be able to sniff out their bluffing in an instant, surely…

Right now, though, the cowboy was leisurely increasing his bet.

–Call.

Following Oeufcoque’s instructions, Balot threw another sixty in, trying to appear as disinterested as possible.

“I’ll see your sixty dollars and raise another sixty,” said the suit, and the cowboy called and re-raised.

–Call…

Balot stuck in another $120 to call, but then she realized Oeufcoque’s instruction was not yet complete, and he was finishing it now:

–Call…then raise sixty dollars.

Balot’s stomach was churning, but she knew that she had to go along unquestioningly or else she would arouse the suspicion of those around her. Furrowing her brow without even realizing it, Balot raised again. An outlay of $180.

The suit glanced at Balot. “Call, and raise sixty dollars,” he said calmly, laying his chips on the table.

Teeth bared, the cowboy called and then raised again.

Oeufcoque’s next instruction was abrupt.

–Fold.

Balot’s hand—already holding the chips required to call—stopped suddenly. This was nonsense. Completely at odds with what she’d been doing up till now. I could at least check for now, she thought, knowing that it wouldn’t have cost her any more to stay in the game for the time being. But, with the greatest of reluctance, she laid her cards down on the table.

–Fold.

A broad smirk broke out across the cowboy’s face. A most disagreeable smile, as if he were coercing someone to do something against their will. Then he turned to square off against the suit.

The suit, on the other hand, called with a breezy tone and raised again. The cowboy growled, called for the last time, and then the betting was over and it was time for the showdown.

The suit was the last to raise, and he revealed his hand first.

K and 2. Two pairs, kings over deuces. There was no bluffing involved with this hand. Had either the turn or the river card revealed a king or a deuce, he would have had a nearly unbeatable full house.

“Whoa,” the cowboy exclaimed. He threw his cards down, revealing his hand.

K and 8. The same hand—two pairs—but his was higher. The cowboy reached out and dragged the pot toward himself. Like a dog at dinnertime.

The dealer was just starting to collect all the cards when the Doctor tapped Balot on her shoulder.

“So, what sort of hand did you have, then?” he asked her, loudly.

An unthinkable question under normal circumstances. And it was the Doctor himself who had impressed upon her in training that there was nothing that gave your opponents the upper hand more than revealing your cards unnecessarily—they’d learn to read you like a book. Yet here the Doctor was, brushing Balot’s hand away as she tried to protect the cards from his reach. He flipped them both over for all to see.

“Ah, I see what you were doing. Going for the straight, eh? A little too ambitious with a hand like this, though. You really should have folded at the start, you know.”

He didn’t really need to tell her this, of course, and she shrank up into a ball.

On the other side of the table the cowboy burst out laughing. His mood couldn’t have been better.

Nor did the other players make a secret of the fact that they were digesting Balot’s hand and its implications. The full extent of her inexperience and lack of skill was now clear for all to see.

“You know, it’s a real shame—if only I’d been as bold as you…” the Doctor continued, flipping over his own hand just before the dealer got to it.