Chapter 21: Royal Flush
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"Listen, do as I say, go to the casino and make it go bankrupt. Otherwise, our plans are a bust." Mikita said in a mocking voice, copying what Robin had said earlier. "What sorta bitch says that sorta thing? Does she have any idea how casinos work? What a weird bitch– ak!"
Walking out of the call booth, Hashirama poked her side with his elbow, making her grunt in pain.
Her eyes went teary as she glared at him, but he didn't heed her and said, "Don't bad mouth her in front of me. I am in an alliance with her."
"...Tsk." Mikita turned to stare forward, her lips pressed together as if she was about to cry. She didn't find it amusing being bullied like this, it hurt being poked in the ribs, and she couldn't even yell in retort.
Hashirama ignored her, noting mentally to hold back his laugh if she actually cried. That would be funny, but he couldn't break the weirdo psychopathic teen façade yet.
"Anyhow." Mikita sighed and asked, "What do you plan to do?"
"The reasoning behind her suggestion made sense, she has a point. So we are going to do as she said." Hashirama told her firmly.
While speaking, he and Mikita faded within the crowd and then escaped the busy city through an alleyway, Mikita leading the way to one of the secluded parts of the city.
Hashirama continued. "Miss All Sunday theorized that Sir Crocodile might not come to Rain Base at all and rather directly go to Alubarna, which indeed would make our coming here meaningless. But we can't just leave here and go to Alubarna either since then there is the chance that he will actually come to the Rain Base."
"So we are to do something to attract his attention, to warn him that we are here. But we can't just start an all-out fight either since then it will be us against the entire city. All Sunday's take on this is for us to make some big money in the casino. The bankrupt part was merely an exaggeration."
"Hah?" Mikita still sounded doubtful. "Yeah, but like, that woman told me to do all the playing. I mean I am good at some of the gambling games, but I am not that great. Moreover, not in this place where the house's people cheat openly and pretend otherwise."
By then, Hashirama and she had stopped on a spot and Hashirama was doing his thing by clasping his hands—and as he did, a wooden something started to creep out of his shadow. Mikita watched as that 'something' took the shape and form of Hashirama in real-time, and soon a copy of Hashirama stood behind him.
The Copy-rama didn't wait to exchange any words and just jumped from his spot, dashing away from the spot to somewhere Mikita couldn't guess.
"What are you doing?"
"Sending a clone to Alubarna. I put enough chakr... energy into it for it to stay active for five days, though it won't be able to fight. Its job is to disperse itself and warn me if it senses Crocodile coming toward Alubarna. So, even if we do fail to attract Crocodile's attention, we would at least know when Crocs goes there."
"Hah. Neat power you got there, kid-" she paused when she saw his glare and quickly corrected herself, "Boss."
"Or so people tell me," Hashirama held back a smile. "Now come on, let's go to the casino and try some games. It's been a while since I tried those games."
"Have you been there before?" Mikita asked while he and she started to walk towards the main city again.
Was that why he was so confident? Because he was familiar with the games?
Usually, Mikita would have thought a kid would be a noob in such games, but the last few days didn't make any sense. This kid didn't make any sense. So maybe he was some hidden gambling god?
"It's been a... few years," Hashirama spoke with a tinge of nostalgia in his voice, as he confidently walked in front of Mikita.
Why wouldn't he be confident going towards the place that was one his master's of his favorite places? Starting from when he met that old man, till the end of his first life, he knew a Gamble House like the back of his hand.
* * *
"Game!"
"Haha, this is the third time! Hey, ain't this kid too easy?!"
Mikita stood behind Hashirama, who had a dark face as he silently looked at his opponents cheering in victory.
Mikita could feel her feet cold, as it was all her money that was being gambled, and all of it was... being lost, thrown into a river of loss!
Mikita leaned over to Hashirama's ears, her face pale, as she whispered. "T-this is a trick, right? To make them let their guard down? L-like in those picture books, right? Hey, say something..."
Hashirama's face was darkened from the shadow of his hair, as he rested his chin on his clasped hands. His eyes were wide, fearful, as sweat trailed down his forehead.
"...My master would have killed me if he saw me in this state, though he would laugh for a minute first."
"Huh? Did you say something?" Mikita heard him whisper something, but couldn't make anything off it. "You know, when we entered the building and you said you'll take care of it, I thought you were a hidden gamble god... but holy shit, you brat, you made me lose 100k bellies!"
Hashirama's cheeks twitched, but he couldn't find it in himself to tell her to shut up.
This was embarrassing.
If things went like this, he might get reported to Crocodile anyway, with the report being a retarded kid who thought he knew shit and got all his money scammed out of him.
In the grander scheme of things, that would fulfill the mission of this whole ordeal. But what about his pride? He couldn't admit defeat like this, otherwise, his master will haunt him in his dreams.
"Fuuh." Mikita sighed from the side, nudging his shoulders. "Alright, stand up. I will at least try to get back a bit of what we lost. Don't you try to protest."
Hashirama didn't protest; it was her money, after all. As he didn't bring any money here, Mikita had to withdraw some from her bank account. So letting her play was the fair thing to do since he was losing anyway.
At the same time, being an observer will make it easier for him to see through exactly how these guys were cheating—and when that happens, may his old skills get polished enough to counter them next time.
"Alright, good luck." Hashirama stood up and let the woman take his seat, his expression dark as he was too ashamed of himself.
Ashamed, like he should be.
* * *
Unlike Hashirama, Mikita was at the very least used to the tricks they used in this house since she had played here before. So she made moves accordingly.
She played five games, with two losses and three wins. Her opponents didn't look so pleased losing the easy goose to be paired against this harder chick, so they were increasing their cheating. That's why Mikita was starting to show signs of losing, whilst Hashirama was observing everything as a spectator.
Hashirama had caught onto what they were doing. Excluding the normal hand trick cheating, the table they were sitting on was special, and so were the rings on their fingers—with all that, it made cheating easier for them.
'Fucking bastards, I am going to fuck you up for messing with my pride.'
Hashirama tapped his foot on the floor, shooting chakra through to travel to the base of the table. With another tap of his foot, the wooden base cracked before it fell down.
– Bam!
Hashirama moved his hand to grab Mikita and yank her backward, to make her avoid the fall, but the others around the table weren't so lucky as the thick hard table fell on their feet—creating a loud thud and making them grunt in pain.
"Ah, are you guys alright?" Hashirama pushed the surprised Mikita to the side and quickly walked over to the injured with worried faces. "Oh god, your legs... it won't be fixed without a few weeks on the bed! Why is this table so heavy anyway?"
"Ugh..."
"Fuck, just on the day we were making some money too..."
As security soon ran in, and after an explanation, they realized that this wasn't a fight that broke in but merely an accident. They apologized to all the players on the table, injured or not, and gave them a few free chips too as a token of apology.
Later, the injured were taken away to be thrown to a nearby hospital, while Mikita stood beside the table with a frown on her face.
"...This isn't natural, is it?" Mikita asked while Hashirama hid a smirk and began to walk away. "Hey, come on, answer me." Mikita followed.
"Believe whatever you want." Hashirama put his hands behind his head and turned to look at her once. "Let's go back for today. I need some rest after running all that, and also some planning, and also some mental peace, so we come back tomorrow."
Sir Crocodile would need three days to reach Alabasta anyway, so a single day was expendable.
* * *
The duo spent a night in a hotel, and Hashirama forced Mikita to share a room with him since he wasn't yet sure that she wouldn't just escape from him, given a chance.
Hashirama teased her a little on the bed, but it was just a bluff, he didn't go that far as he wanted to focus on the mission at hand first—which prompted him to sleep early, and when he woke up it was already the next day.
After grabbing breakfast, the duo decided to leave for the casino right away. Hashirama decorated Mikita's hair with vines and flowers, it was to give her an entirely different look since it would be suspicious if she were to go out with that baggy long coat every time.
Mikita looked like an entirely different person with the decoration, and she looked happy with her look too.
Hashirama also had a different look, wearing a dark red coat with a white shirt under, and his long hair was not tied in a ponytail but rather allowed to flow like a fountain.
This look of his was slick, Mikita admitted, more of a villain than Sir Crocodile as he seemed to be talking something about suitable clothing for suitable scenes.
The duo soon reached the casino, one arm locked on the other's elbow like a rich couple, and decided to begin playing right after extracting some chips.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Yes."
Mikita wanted to remind him it was her money, and that it was wrong for him to waste it just for his stubbornness, but she just sighed in her head when she recalled what an evil bastard this kid was.
'Fine, he can waste a bit of it. I will gain more than this as long as he wins against Crocodile.' Mikita sighed as she watched him walk over to a table. There, he asked for a seat, and the guys there quickly permitted with mischievous glints in their eyes.
Mikita walked to stand behind him, her arms crossed, as she ignored the lust-filled gazes that looked at her. That was another reason why she was letting this kid waste her money today, because he made her happy with this gorgeous make-up. She looked so hot, and all those lust-filled gazes were polishing her ego an exhilarating bit.
Fine, he could waste her money, just for today.
* * *
'Poker isn't a game for kids, hmph!'
Due to the table incident yesterday, some of the people remembered Hashirama and the hideous girl he came with. Those guys, when they saw the same boy and probably the same girl back here, wearing rich clothing, couldn't hold back a mocking chuckle.
They believed this foolish couple, these country bumkins, must have bought expensive clothes after winning a bit of money and were now back for more. It was the perfect time to scam money out of them.
That was why the people at the table Hashirama went to had their eyes glinting as they knew today they wouldn't just earn big money but also see a funny scene of these two bumkins breaking down.
The leading player at the table even planned for a dirty game in the end, that when the boy kept losing, they would start to challenge big on his girlfriend's clothes, and at some point his girlfriend herself—for a night.
By experience, they knew such a thing may not be impossible tonight, more so since their first opponent was the little boy. Making him nervous and flustered should be easy—they were bound to have a good time today and tonight.
So...
"Game."
Why were they losing?
The boy, wearing a dark red suit over a white shirt, had his hair scattered finely on his head as he rested his chin on one hand, with a small, soft grin on his face. All the time, his opponents, from the first to the one after, all saw their own expression contort on the reflection of his red sunglasses as he kept ending their careers with swift, calculated moves.
* * *
Hashirama Senju was living too ordinary of a life, causing him to forget much of the skills he knew in his earlier life. However, the truth was that, once a person mastered a technique, they never truly 'forget' it, not even if they try to.
They just need a bit of polishing for the mastery to return.
As Hashirama watched the manager of the casino pale while playing against him, unable to make his move, he knew his mastery had returned to where it belonged.
"Mister, won't you make a move?" Hashirama asked as light music played on a snail phonograph nearby. "You can only stall for so much time, even if you are the manager."
As Hashirama was earning too much, the manager had to call him to the inner secret play zone, where only the best players were. Now, even this manager was out of his wit and tricks in front of true skill—some would call it 'cheating' but Hashirama would smack those some in the back of their heads, as he was using nothing but his own hands to cheat, so it was still in his book.
"...Ugh!" At last, the manager threw the card at the table, revealing the card. "A Straight Flush."
"Aww," Hashirama jerked his hand a little, as if doing a magic trick, and then threw his card. "There you go, a Royal Flash."
The spectators whistled; Mikita blushing for some reason, her hand clutching her lower abdomen, while the Manager grabbed his hand and pulled.
"No, fuck!" The manager, who was a middle-aged man with a well-kempt face, yelled with a horrified face. "That's it! Call the owner, someone, and tell him I am going to kill this cheating bastard!"
Rather than mad or worried, Hashirama smiled as he leaned back to rest on his seat—because he knew he just won both the battle and the war.
Indeed, it was a Royal Flush.
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