The God Of Gambling

“Waaaaah!”

The moment I took the wager, the watching crowd let out a cheer with one voice. Within a breath the onlookers had packed in tight around me and Heo Jutae, the manager of Tugeum Hall.

He took the seat across the table, his face perfectly at ease.

“To take the offer without a moment’s hesitation — you’re a bold one after all, Young Master.”
“If a man’s drawn his blade, he ought to at least cut a radish with it¹. Am I right?”

I said it playing the drunk, goading him on purpose, and one corner of his mouth slid up. He was sneering at me quite openly, which meant the drunk act had taken.

“Very true. What’ll we play, then? The shell game? Bone tiles?² Or shall we stay with the dice?”

He was playing along with me.

“My luck’s properly running tonight, see? We keep going with the dice.”
“As you wish. Oi — bring the dice!”

One of his men came at the shout with three new dice and a cup. Heo Jutae laid them out on the table.

“But how would it be if we changed the shape of it a little? Odd or even is too simple — let’s say the higher total on the three dice takes it.”
“High number wins? Nice and simple. I like it.”

I agreed readily. Whatever shape the game took, it made no difference; the result was settled either way.

“Very good. And how much shall we stake?”

Heo Jutae’s eyes, full of greed, ran over the heap of banknotes piled in front of me. Right now there would be nothing in that head of his but the thought of swallowing every coin I had. But would it go the way he wanted?

I huffed out a laugh.

“Every coin I have.”
“Hahaha! Young Master Yang, you think big, the way a true man should! This Heo is struck with admiration at Young Master Yang’s great and noble spirit. Well then, let’s begin the wager at once…”
“Ah — hold on.”

I cut him off and held out my hand to Duho.

“Hand it over.”
“…Sorry? Young Master, what do you mean by that?”

Duho asked it back, looking as if he hadn’t the faintest idea what I meant.

Brazen acting, natural enough to fool King Yama himself, who presides over hell. But he had overlooked one thing: I had spent years with this bastard at Blood Sand Plain, and I knew Duho’s habits and his acting inside out.

“You didn’t walk out of that storehouse empty-handed. I know you pocketed something, so out with it.”

Duho’s shoulders flinched for an instant at that. Square on the mark, then.

“Young master, you seem to have had a great deal to drink. It’s late in the night — perhaps it’s time we got up from the table…”

Duho turned the subject aside without batting an eye. He meant to deny it to the last.

That wouldn’t do. Nothing for it but to use my own hands.

“Oi! This bastard, honestly!”

I shot up out of my seat and threw myself at Duho, who recoiled in horror. I latched onto him and went digging through his robes, and his voice rose in panic.

“Young master! What are you doing! With everyone watching!”

I paid him no mind and threw everything I had into the search, until something fell out of his robes in the middle of the scuffle.

— Tap! Rattle.

A small wooden case had hit the floor. Its lid had fallen open, and a single round bead came rolling out. It gave off a soft light all of its own.

A night-luminous pearl.

“What is that? It’s shining all by itself!”
“Ignorant, aren’t you. That’s what they call a night-luminous pearl!”
“What? Isn’t that worth a fortune?”
“It is. The likes of us don’t so much as lay eyes on one in a lifetime. We’ve struck it lucky tonight.”

Gasps of wonder burst out on every side. Duho’s hand shot out in haste, but sadly it never reached the pearl. I was a step quicker.

“You brought something this precious along? You’ve a fine touch for squirreling money away. I’ll put it to good use.”

I said it like praise, but Duho’s face set hard and soured. I put the pearl back in its case and set the case down in the middle of the table.

“Every coin I have, and this on top. That suit you?”

At that, Heo Jutae’s eyes and the corners of his mouth curved up. He was fit to die of joy. His fingers were twitching too; he looked ready to snatch the thing up that very instant.

The manager broke into a broad smile.

“I can accept it — but are you sure? If you lose it, it never comes back to you.”
“Of course. A man’s word weighs a thousand pieces of gold. A man doesn’t say two things with one mouth.”

Heo Jutae clapped his hands in admiration.

“Very true. Going back on your word is a thing for women. How is it your nerve is so great? Young Master Yang is a man among men.”

“Waaaaah! He’s mad! He’s out of his mind!”
“How much is all that? Money we’d never touch in a lifetime, changing hands in one throw!”
“Biggest game since Tugeum Hall opened its doors! Out of the way, all of you, let me see!”

Once the two of us had settled the stakes, the onlookers around us cheered as one. A mountain of banknotes and a night-luminous pearl were riding on this wager. A contest like this came along once in a lifetime, if that, and every one of them was shouting with the excitement of it.

I looked at Heo Jutae and said,

“First, we write a contract.”
“A contract?”
“With this much money on the table you’d just play it on trust? No, no, that won’t do. What if I win and you turn around and tell me to gut you for it? Am I right?”

At my provocation Heo Jutae snorted as though he’d never heard the like.

“Young Master, we are the Great Saber Gang. We have never once broken a promise to a guest.”
“I wonder. The money on this is so big it’s making me nervous, that’s all.”

I tapped a finger against the case with the pearl in it.

“The worth of this alone would clean your gambling house out, wouldn’t it? What’s it go for, about?”

I looked over at Duho, who answered close to tears.

“…Five hundred taels of gold at the very least.”
“You heard him?”

I smiled and turned back to Heo Jutae.

“Well? Five hundred taels of gold is a bit much to carry, isn’t it? If we’re doing this without a contract, we leave the pearl out and stake the banknotes only.”

When I made as if to take the case away, his hand came out in a hurry.

“No, no. Young Master is quite right. With this much money on it, it’s proper that we both put it down clearly in a contract.”
“Now we’re talking.”

Paper, brush and ink were brought at once. If I won, the Great Saber Gang would pay out five hundred taels of gold and a sum to match the banknotes on the table; if Heo Jutae won, the banknotes and the pearl became the Great Saber Gang’s. We each took a copy.

Heo Jutae gestured at the dice and the cup.

“Will you go first? Or would you rather go after?”
“Suit yourself. The order doesn’t decide anything.”
“Very true indeed. Then I won’t stand on ceremony — I’ll go first.”

With an air of triumph he dropped the three dice into the cup and shook it.

— Rattle! Rattle! Rattle!

The dice knocked noisily against one another inside the cup. He tossed the cup into the air and caught it, his hands a dazzle of motion, and watching it made my eyes swim. He was making a bloody production of it.

I glanced sideways at Duho. Our eyes met, and he gave a small nod. A snort of a laugh came out of me.

That one’s working sleight of hand right now.

Whatever the trick was, it wouldn’t fool Duho’s eye. Heo Jutae had meant to work one from the start. Why else take a wager of five hundred taels of gold? He must have been certain he could not lose.

— Thunk!

Heo Jutae made a good long show of his flourishes before he drove the cup down onto the table. Then he looked at me and smiled.

“I’ll open it.”

He lifted the cup slowly.

The dice read six, six, five. Seventeen in all, one short of eighteen, the highest there was.

“Oh, no…”
“Seventeen. It’s over. It’s finished.”
“He can’t win unless he throws eighteen. Nothing more to see.”
“And that’s the pearl gone, just like that.”

The onlookers sighed in regret, and no wonder. To beat seventeen the three dice had to come up six, six, six, which by the odds was as near impossible as made no difference.

Heo Jutae wore a mean little smile, as though he had already won.

“Well… that seems to have decided it. A pity, but I think it’s Young Master Yang’s loss.”

He was sneering at me, and I did not mind it in the least. If anything, the absurdity of it pulled a laugh out of me.

This bastard couldn’t have dreamed what fate had in store for him.

I clapped my hands as though astonished.

“Well now, that’s impressive. Seventeen, of all things.”
“Don’t take it too hard. I’ll see you’re sent off with a generous cut of the pot.”
“Come now, I understand you’re pleased with a high number, but you’re getting ahead of yourself. My turn isn’t over yet. Three sixes might still come up.”

Heo Jutae gave a scornful snort.

“Six, six, six, is it. You dream big. Pray for a miracle, then.”

He pushed the dice and the cup across to me. I was about to put the dice in the cup when I asked him,

“I’ve drunk a fair bit and my hands are shaking — can my guard shake them for me?”
“It makes no difference. Whoever throws them, the result won’t change.”

He granted it readily. I handed the dice and the cup to Duho.

“Do it well. I’ll cut you in for a quarter of a quarter of what we win.”
“…That’s, ah, a bit on the small side, isn’t it?”
“Don’t take it, then.”
“No! I’ll serve you with all my loyalty!”
“Good. Show me that loyal heart of yours.”

Duho took up the dice and the cup, drew a deep breath, and let the strength go out of the hand that held the dice. As they dropped toward the floor the cup flew at them, and they were sucked up into it.

— Rattle! Rattle! Rattle! Rattle! Rattle!

Duho’s hand moved supple as a snake, nothing at all like the show Heo Jutae had made of it. He controlled the cup with the snap of his wrist alone, which was perhaps why it was so easy on the eye and the sound of it so good to hear. It had the feel of a song.

After keeping it up a good while, Duho set the cup down on the table.

— Clack!

Every eye in the place went to the cup. Silence fell over the hall as they stared at it, wound tight.

Duho lifted the cup slowly. The dice came into view little by little, stacked one on another like a tower, and he picked them off one at a time and set them down.

The dice read six, six, six.

Eighteen. The one and only outcome that could beat Heo Jutae’s seventeen had come up.

“Six… it’s six, six, six!”
“Madness! It really came up eighteen!”
“The Great Saber Gang’s lost! The manager’s lost!”
“Jaaaackpooot!”

Amid the astonished shouts, my eyes went to Heo Jutae. Round-eyed, mouth hanging open, he only blinked, as though he could not believe it. Then it seemed to sink in, and he shot up out of his seat.

“Cheating! This is cheating!”

Heo Jutae was screaming. Eyes bloodshot, he pointed at Duho and bellowed at the top of his voice.

“Cheating?”
“That man pulled something, it’s plain! How else does eighteen actually come up!”
“Why shouldn’t it?”
“What?!”

My question shut him up. Even he couldn’t name a reason it shouldn’t come up, could he? I pressed him harder.

“Is there some reason eighteen can’t come up? It’s not as if you’d rigged the pips on the dice. Am I right?”
“…”

Heo Jutae’s face twisted. He must have realized things had gone badly wrong.

But what could he do? I had no intention of letting it go.

Accounts must always be exact, you see.