Mardock Scramble полностью

At this point the dealer should really have given up on trying to read Balot, taken stock, and just continued with a level head; he still had the house edge on his side, after all, and it wasn’t as if the house had started losing heavily yet. It wasn’t even his own money that he was losing. But the dealer was determined to crack Balot, to work out what she was thinking. His smile remained, but it was growing more and more strained.

–Does this person still want to bankrupt me, Oeufcoque?

–It seems so. Of course, all that’s really happening is that he’s losing the plot.

–Why is he even that bothered? It’s just a job for him, isn’t it?

–That’s the sort of person he is, no doubt. He needs to be in control. Trouble is, the dealer doesn’t really have any direct influence over his own game. Take away the natural advantage that he has by playing to the rules and the dealer’s not much more than a bystander, after all.

–I see that.

–The trouble is, there are some dealers who try and use that natural advantage as a shield, stepping out of line and going over and above the call of duty to try and get more. This dealer is a perfect example of that: he’s cold, calculating, and very, very goodat parting punters from their money. The corollary of this is that he needs to be in control at all times—he’s the dominating type. And that’s something that we can use to our own advantage in so many ways.

It wasn’t long before the Doctor picked up on the turn of events and pitched in wholeheartedly to their strategy of befuddling the dealer. He nodded along at Balot’s impenetrable statements and threw back a few of his own for good measure.

“I must say, I’m most impressed, O niece of mine. It seems like I’ve created a monster!” The Doctor praised her conspicuously and lavishly, virtually forcing the dealer to follow suit. The dealer wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be praising, of course. Before long he found himself talking in the most abstract of terms: most impressive, wonderful, how perceptive of madamoiselle.

The game reached its middle stages, and another instruction came from Oeufcoque.

–Try changing your posture now. When the next hand comes, cross your legs.

Balot did as she was told, crossing her legs as soon as her second card was on the table.

The dealer shouldn’t really have been able to see under the table, of course, but nevertheless he seemed intently focused on her actions.

–Right, now for the next few hands, try shifting your position constantly—from left to right, as if you’re trying to see the cards out of the corner of your eye.

The Doctor hit and received his card. His total was now seventeen, and he stayed. During this, Balot shifted her body so that her back was half turned to the Doctor.

It became her turn, and she hit on fourteen to take her up to eighteen.

Instead of responding immediately, she crossed her legs again, looked at the cards from the left corner of her field of vision, and declared her intention to stay.

The dealer couldn’t take his eyes off Balot—they were still glued to her as he flipped his own hidden card over.

The dealer had two 9s—total eighteen. A draw with Balot; the Doctor was defeated.

Balot asked Oeufcoque a question as the cards on the table were collected.

–What are we trying to do now?