Chapter 439: Casino Royale I

CH439 Casino Royale i

***

The burly man fumed visibly. Anyone could tell he was on the verge of exploding into a fit of rage. Alex, however, pretended not to notice, continuing to look at the two men as if genuinely awaiting a response.

Unlike the burly man—whose emotions were written plainly on his face—the shifty-eyed man was far more cunning.

A flicker of surprise and disgust crossed his expression for barely an instant. If Alex hadn’t been paying close attention, he would have missed it entirely.

The reason Alex watched the two men so closely was simple.

Among the three underbosses, the shifty-eyed man was none other than Rolfe the Broker, while the burly man was Brieger the Desert Razor.

That meant the plain-looking man seated to Rolfe’s right could only be Bram the Blood Blade.

For the moment, Alex paid Bram little more than peripheral attention. He had no dealings with the man or his faction—yet.

Bram, for his part, seemed equally unconcerned. He appeared content to enjoy the unfolding spectacle between the young noble sorcerer and his fellow underbosses, casually kneading the bosom of the woman in his grasp who coquettishly help him down his wine.

With practised ease, Rolfe schooled his expression and unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

"In that case," Rolfe said smoothly, "I must extend my gratitude to you, good sir."

Alex blinked, then looked ’inspired’.

"Oh? One of those rabid dogs belonged to you?" he asked bluntly.

Bram nearly spat out the mouthful of wine he had just swallowed. He burst out laughing, utterly unconcerned with Rolfe’s glare or the damage it did to the man’s face.

Still, Rolfe—thick-skinned as any seasoned thug—ignored the mockery and nodded toward Alex.

"Indeed. It would seem so," Rolfe said calmly. "A trio of hunting dogs I nurtured to keep the serfs in my territory honest appear to had gone overboard in disciplining one of them—and in doing so, offended you. But as a noble, I am certain you understand why men like me require dogs such as those."

Alex nodded, appearing thoughtful—almost agreeable.

"You are not wrong," he said. "As a noble, I understand the need for tools to enforce order within one’s domain. However, that wasn’t the reason why I punished those rabid dogs of yours."

His gaze sharpened.

"It was because they went beyond their bounds—and bared their teeth at someone far above their station."

His tone hardened for a moment.

"Wars have been waged for far less," Alex said evenly, "leading to the downfall of noble families with generations of history behind them. Much less..."

He deliberately left the sentence unfinished, allowing the weight of his words—and the threat embedded within them—to linger in the air.

Alex fixed Rolfe with a piercing stare.

’Know your place, you thug,’ he sneered inwardly. ’You are nothing more than a ruffian who bullies the weak, yet you dare place yourself on the same level as a noble?’

Whether Rolfe truly understood the meaning behind Alex’s words was unclear. If he did, then he was a remarkably talented actor, as not a single ripple of emotion crossed his face.

While the verbal exchange continued, the dealer had already moved on, exchanging Alex’s Berserk Stones for the casino’s chips.

A sizeable stack was placed neatly before Alex.

The game itself was, for the most part, very similar to poker. While Alex had never played this exact variant before, he wasn’t lost either. A brief explanation from the dealer regarding hand rankings and combinations was enough to fill in the remaining gaps.

Alex couldn’t help but marvel at how certain things never changed—how they persisted among humanity regardless of world or plane.

"I am Rolfe," the shifty-eyed man said smoothly. "People call me the Broker. If you are in need of assistance acquiring... anything within Camp Red Rock or the surrounding settlements, I can help—for a fee."

He gestured casually.

"To my right is Bram the Blood Blade, renowned for his skill with the sword. And to my left is Brieger, the Desert Razor."

Alex glanced between Bram and Brieger.

According to the scout team’s information, both men wielded single-edged swords and both had once carried nicknames involving ’Blade’. That had changed after Bram personally attacked and beat Brieger, warning him to abandon the title lest people begin associating the two of them as equals.

Brieger had changed his name from Desert Blade to Desert Razor shortly thereafter.

Suffice it to say, there was little love between the two men.

"And you are?" Rolfe asked, finally revealing his intent—to uncover Alex’s identity.

"Alex Fury," Alex introduced himself calmly.

"Fury?" Rolfe frowned slightly. "I don’t believe I’ve heard of a House Fury before. Perhaps you could enlighten me—what nation are you from?"

"Of course you haven’t," Alex replied smoothly. "If you had, you wouldn’t still be living in a land as... markedly pungent as this."

He smiled faintly. "There are skies beyond skies—realms an ant beneath the soil must never even dream of beholding."

Zora and Eleanor exchanged a glance. Amusement flickered in their eyes as they watched Alex casually troll the underbosses.

Bram didn’t particularly care. Brieger, on the other hand, was visibly livid, restraining himself only because of the casino’s rules—and because the establishment was under the control of the Copper-skinned Orcs.

What surprised Alex and his wives, however, was Rolfe.

Not only was he not angry, the man looked... thoughtful.

Alex’s words had been a veiled allusion—hinting that he wasn’t even from this world. Someone like Rolfe, who had spent his entire life in the Hollowcrest Wildlands, wouldn’t know the first thing about interplanar travel, let alone Pangea or the Arun Continent where House Fury resided.

So, of course, Rolfe wouldn’t recognise the name.

And yet, judging from his expression, Rolfe was clearly piecing something together.

’Skies beyond skies...’

’A youth who looks barely twenty, yet possesses the bearing—and power—of a Gold-ranked sorcerer...’

’A disciplined entourage... unmistakable aristocratic authority...’

’Could he be from one of THOSE places?’

Rolfe’s thoughts spiralled as he silently reaffirmed his own suspicions... or delusions.

Brieger finally snapped.

"Are you two just going to flap your gums all night, or are we actually going to play?" he growled, his hostility no more concealed.

Alex tilted his head slightly, feigning confusion at Brieger’s outburst.

"Have we met before?" he asked, brows knitting together.

"No," Brieger spat.

"But you met his men outside Camp Red Rock." Rolfe immediately seized the opening, clearly trying to curry favour.

Alex continued to feign ignorance.

"I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific."

"The roadblock, sir," Rolfe clarified carefully. "The roadblock."

Alex’s gaze hardened, as if realisation had only just dawned on him.

"So," he said slowly, "you are the owner of the rabid dogs who dared bar my way and demand a toll."

His voice remained calm, but the air around the table grew heavy.

"Not only did they demand my money, they also ordered me to leave my wives behind so they could ’play’ with them."

He leaned back slightly.

"How do you intend to compensate me?" Alex asked.

The temperature around the table seemed to plummet as Alex and Brieger locked eyes.

Brieger shoved the woman on his lap aside and reached toward his blade.

Alex remained unperturbed—but his eyes darkened a shade further. Mana quietly welled around him, subtle yet unmistakable. It was clear he was ready to cast the moment Brieger crossed the line.

"Sirs!" the dealer suddenly called out.

His tone, once servile, now carried unmistakable authority.

"Please remember this is neutral ground. Fighting is forbidden here. If you have grievances, resolve them at the table—or in the duel ring."

The dignity in the dealer’s voice was not his own.

It belonged to the Warhammer, Azgrug, and the Copper-skinned Orc clan standing behind him.

Brieger glared at Alex for several long moments before finally withdrawing his hand and placing it back on the table, resting atop his chips.

"Then let’s play," he said coldly. "Unless you’d rather settle this in the ring?"

Alex met his stare evenly.

"Very well," he said with a nod. "I’ll indulge you."

The mana around him subsided as he placed his hands over his own chips.

With the stakes now raised, the dealer collected all cards on the table and began reshuffling.

"Sir," Rolfe said casually, "are you familiar with the rules? The game is... somewhat different here in the Wildlands."

The implication beneath his words was unmistakable.

Alex nodded faintly.

"Don’t worry," he replied. "I’m a fast learner."

Rolfe smiled thinly and nodded.

The dealer dealt the cards.

***