Mardock Scramble полностью

2 and 2. Three of a kind! The cowboy’s eyes widened, and the other players looked on, the scene clearly making a great impression on them.

Rock—the name given to the type of player who bets prudently, even on a strong hand. In this instance, the description fit the Doctor perfectly. But wasn’t it the Doctor himself who had taught her that excessive caution could be just as much a cause of defeat as recklessness? The other players surely now saw him as a godsend of an opponent, just like Balot, but for entirely different reasons. Balot was about to forget herself and say something to him, but then the Doctor winked. Quickly and discreetly, so that no one else would have noticed. Balot understood that his actions weren’t entirely without cause.

Balot made a sulky face as they proceeded on to the next game.

Part of her was acting, of course, on cue. But there was another part of her that really was sulking. Oeufcoque and the Doctor were still aiming to win—they just hadn’t shared any information with her as to how they planned to go about doing so.

≡

The card shoe containing a new deck was brought forward, and the second hand had begun.

Balot’s hand was Q and 8.

The dealer’s button had moved round, and the Doctor was now the blind better.

The first bet was ten dollars. Balot quickly raised, as she had to, and the calls went round the table.

The cowboy seemed to have acquired a taste for winning—he was the only one to raise, anyway—and the potbelly folded from the outset, just as in the previous hand. The calls finished, and the three flop cards were turned over.

5, 8, Q. There was another round of calling and raising, and the suit, seemingly tired out by being pushed to the wire on the previous hand, folded.

They moved into the third round of betting, and the turn card was revealed.

It was K. Balot’s heart skipped a beat. She realized that she had the chance of making a club flush, even if she might be hoping against hope at this late stage in the game.

Even if she didn’t make it, she would still be left with two pairs, queens over eights. She thought about the eight hundred she had just lost and realized that this was her chance to turn things around.

–Fold.

Such was the instruction she eventually received, but only after the old gentleman raised after her call and the cowboy’s raise… Disappointed, Balot placed her cards down. The writing in the palm of her hand subsided, and the active players finished their calls, moving the hand on to the final round.

The fifth card, the river, was A. Balot was thrown into deep confusion.

The flush was now complete. Including the money she’d lost on this hand, she was now down by well over a thousand dollars. The only explanation she could think of was that she was somehow supposed to be playing in a nonsensical manner.

And, sure enough, that was the case.

The Doctor ended up folding in the final round, leaving the cowboy and the old gentleman to fight it out.

The old gentleman raised, and the cowboy saw and raised him. This process repeated a number of times.

The cowboy was now well into the game, totally absorbed, passionate.

The old man, on the other hand, remained composed, lining up his chips in an orderly fashion.

The betting came to a close. Showdown, and the old gentleman led by revealing K and K. Three of a kind. A strong enough hand in Hold’em.

Snap—the cowboy suddenly flung his cards to the table with a flourish.

At first Balot thought that he must have thrown his cards down out of frustration that he had just lost, but she was wrong.

Teeth bared, the cowboy laughed coarsely and declared his hand.

A and A—that was what was in the hole for him. Three of a kind, aces. The cowboy had won. This pushed the cowboy’s winnings to just shy of four thousand dollars.

Balot could no longer see the cowboy as anything other than the mechanic.

How are the Doctor and Oeufcoque planning on beating him? she wondered.

The next hand commenced. We’ll get him this time, she hoped.

Balot was dealt 6 and 3. The dealer’s button was in front of the Doctor now.

Balot made her blind bet without a moment’s delay. Yet again the potbelly folded in the first round. The cowboy raised, and everyone else called, and the first round was over.

The flop was dealt to the center of the table and turned over one by one.

10, 5, and 4.

It was hard for Balot to contain her excitement. She now had six-five-four-three, and all she needed was a two or a seven to make her straight—or she could use the 5 to aim for a flush.

–Fold.

The instruction came just as she was about to bet. Unbelievable. Oeufcoque’s order directly contradicted every natural impulse Balot felt. She closed her eyes and placed her cards down on the table.

–Why?

She spoke directly to Oeufcoque now. Folding at this point meant that all she could do for the rest of the hand was watch the other players as the hand progressed.

–I’ve worked it all out.