Chapter 62 The Shadow IPO

Chapter 62 The Shadow IPO
"You look like a million points," Sloane said. She fixed the collar of my suit. "Don't sweat. If the scanners pick up your heart rate, we're dead before we hit the floor."

"I'm not sweating," I said. I looked at my hands, they were solid. The temporary materialization was eating a thousand points every ten minutes, but it felt good to have weight.

"The Gilt Palace is where the Syndicate elite play," Sloane whispered. "They don't bet chips, they bet years, human lifespans. Be careful."

"I'm just here to win," I said. The doors swung open. The air inside didn't smell like the slums. It smelled like expensive cigars and money.

"Table four," Sloane muttered, slipping into the crowd. "That’s the high-stakes game. Don't look at me again."

I walked toward the table. A massive man in a red suit blocked my path. His eyes were artificial, glowing with a soft blue light.

"ID and liquidity check," the guard grunted. I tapped my wrist against the scanner. I had routed our remaining balance into a temporary "High Roller" account.

\[System Notification: Liquidity Confirmed\]

\[Status: VIP Guest\]

"Go on through," the guard said.

The table was surrounded by men who looked like they owned cities. In the center sat a dealer with silver skin and four arms. He was shuffling electronic cards that flickered with blue data.

"Seats are for those who can pay," a man with a scarred lip said. "The buy-in is fifty years."

"I'll take two hundred," I said. I sat down. The table went quiet. Scar-lip finally looked at me. "Two hundred years? You’re either brave or stupid, kid."

"Maybe I just like the odds," I said. The dealer moved fast. Four cards hit the table in front of me. They looked like glass.

\[Skill Triggered: System Insight\]

\[Analyzing Card Code...\]

\[Sequence Identified: 0x4F, 0x12, 0x9A\]

I didn't need to look at them to know they were garbage. "I'll fold," I said. I tossed a five-year chip into the center.

"Folding already?" Scar-lip laughed. "I told you he was a tourist."

"Just warming up," I said. The next hand was the same, I folded again and the hand after that. The men at the table stopped watching me. That was exactly what I wanted.

\[System Warning: Materialization at 40%\]

"Is there a problem, sir?" The dealer asked. "You haven't played a hand in twenty minutes."

"The cards have been cold," I said. "But I think the weather is changing." The dealer dealt the next round and my vision flickered. Numbers started scrolling across the back of the electronic cards.

\[Card 1: King of Hearts (Verified)\]

\[Card 2: King of Spades (Verified)\]

"I'm in," I said. I pushed a fifty-year chip forward. "Finally," Scar-lip said. "I'll raise you twenty."

"Make it a hundred," I said. The crowd behind the table started to whisper. A hundred years was a lifetime. "You're bluffing," Scar-lip said. "I can see it in your face."

"Then call me," I said. "Fine," he snapped. He shoved his chips into the pile. "Call."

The dealer turned the cards. I had a full house. Scar-lip had nothing but a pair. "Beginner's luck," he muttered. "Let's go again," I said.

For the next hour, I didn't lose. I wasn't just winning; I was draining the table. Every time the dealer shuffled, I saw the code. I knew the sequence before the cards left his hand.

"How are you doing this?" Scar-lip asked and he was shaking. He had lost three hundred years of his life-bank. "Nobody wins ten hands in a row."

"I told you," I said. "I like the odds."

"He's cheating!" A woman cried out. "Search him!"

"Our cards are encrypted by Syndicate security," the dealer said. "Cheating is impossible."

"Then check his account," Scar-lip yelled. "He's using a ghost-feed!" I felt a cold sweat on my neck. The materialization was flickering. If I lost my physical form now, I was dead.

"Check whatever you want," I said. I stood up and started stacking my chips. "But I think I'm done."

"You're not going anywhere," a voice boomed from the back. The crowd parted. A man in a white suit walked toward the table. He had a Syndicate pin on his lapel.

"Is there a problem, Manager?" The dealer asked. "The house is down six hundred years in an hour," the Manager said. He looked at me. "That doesn't happen."

"The cards are electronic," I said. "Maybe your system has a bug."

"My system is perfect," the Manager said. He walked around the table until he was inches from my face. "But you aren't. Your heart rate hasn't changed once since you sat down."

"I've got a good poker face," I said. "It's more than that," the Manager whispered. He reached out and grabbed my arm. "You feel... wrong. Like you aren't really here."

"I'm here enough to take your money," I said. I tried to pull away, but his grip was iron.

"Something is wrong with his signal!" One of the guards shouted and he was holding a scanner. "He's not a VIP! He’s a ghost!"

The room went dead silent. The high-rollers backed away like I was a bomb. "Cyprian Fenwick," the Manager smiled. "The ten million point man. I should have known you'd be arrogant enough to walk in here."

"Jarek, get the van ready," I whispered into my comms. "I can't, Boss!" Jarek's voice was full of panic. "They've got jammers everywhere. We're blind!"

"You've cost me a lot of money tonight, Cyprian," the Manager said. He let go of my arm. "But the bounty will cover the losses."

I looked toward the exit. Four guards with heavy pulse-rifles were moving into position. "I'm not for sale," I said.

"Everyone has a price," the Manager said. He snapped his fingers. A heavy metal shutter slammed down over the main entrance. Then the side doors. The sound of the locks clicking echoed through the room like a coffin closing.

"Security protocols engaged," a synthetic voice announced. "The Palace is now in lockdown."

The Manager looked at me and crossed his arms. "Now, let's talk about that ten million."