Casino Wizard - Chapter 9

Miriam couldn’t believe it.

No longer being allowed into the casino?

Being permanently banned just because she owed money? It was an unfair and cruel punishment.

“If you pay back what you owe, I might consider lifting the ban. Might.”

“How am I supposed to repay that money…!”

“If you don’t have money to pay back your debt, where did you think you’d get the money to gamble?”

“……”

“One more thing. If you try to run without paying, the Adventurer’s Guild will be tasked with tracking you down. It’ll be a nice payday for some rookie adventurers.”

Miriam thought of retorting with something like, I’ll win it back playing baccarat, but she bit her tongue.

The idea of insisting, after squandering a total of 570 gold, that she’d win it back was too pitiful—even to herself.

In the end, she nodded weakly.

Unwillingly, but she had no choice.

…

Miriam, who had been thrown out of the casino, made her way to a nearby tavern—a place she and her boyfriend had once used as both a hideout and a makeshift home.

Sitting alone on the sunken bed in their rented room, Miriam noticed that Paolo’s belongings were nowhere to be seen. Had he really returned to his hometown?

Her clothes were still wet from the drenching spell cast by the wizard Hyden, yet drying off seemed like the least of her concerns. The chill creeping over her body felt insignificant compared to the greater losses she had suffered.

“I walked right into the trap, didn’t I?”

It was obvious now. The wizard Hyden had set his sights on her from the very beginning.

The “exclusive” access to the VIP room.

The unusually favorable streak at the start.

The subtle encouragements to make reckless bets.

And finally, the pre-prepared loan agreement waiting for her signature.

She had been blind, flailing helplessly as she sank into his web.

How pathetic must she have seemed?

Did Hyden laugh as he watched her downfall unfold, exactly as he’d planned?

Probably not. As much as it stung to admit, Hyden didn’t appear to derive any pleasure from her suffering. If anything, it seemed like he was merely discarding a troublesome object.

Miriam hadn’t pieced this together because of any cleverness on her part. She simply knew her place in the world.

Her hometown was Rocolrodon, a small estate on the fringes of the kingdom. Naturally, she didn’t live within the estate’s protective walls but rather in a small village where a distant relative of the local lord held rights to taxes and justice.

Life there was harsh, with barely enough to eat. Her parents had viewed her as just another mouth to feed and were eager to see her married off.

She wasn’t uneducated—her quick wits and basic schooling from the church had allowed her to grasp reading and simple arithmetic. But that was the extent of her advantages.

At best, she might have become the concubine of a minor official.

At worst, she would have been a farmer’s wife, spending her days toiling in a vegetable patch.

Miriam had fled to the city nine years ago, determined to escape the life laid out for her.

“It was the best choice I could have made at the time,” she thought.

City life, however, had been no easier. She’d scraped by as a server in inns and taverns, constantly trying to charm adventurers or nobles wearing gold and silver crests. But most of these encounters ended as fleeting one-night stands.

Each missed opportunity weighed heavily on her. The fear of aging out of options and being forced to return to her dreary hometown gnawed at her relentlessly, leaving her with constant headaches.

Recently, though, she’d been free of those headaches.

Thanks to the casino, she’d finally felt like luck was on her side.

But her dream had crumbled in just one day.

Now, Miriam had nothing left.

“Well, except for debt,” she muttered with a bitter laugh, idly drawing numbers in the air with her finger.

50 gold.

What had once been a sum she could earn in ten days now loomed as an insurmountable burden. And the debt would only continue to grow.

There was no way she could repay it. Not even selling herself into slavery would suffice—especially not at her age of 25, which was already considered past her prime.

“Maybe… it would be better to just end it.”

But she couldn’t.

It wasn’t fear holding her back. Nor was it the church’s teachings that condemned suicide as a sin.

There was only one reason she couldn’t bring herself to leave this world.

It was utterly ridiculous, but—

she still couldn’t let go of her desire to succeed.

Voices had begun echoing in her mind, scolding her foolish choices yet urging her to hold on.

“Yes, you made some stupid mistakes. But it’s okay. You still have a chance.”

“Think about how pathetic you were when you first arrived in the capital with that old adventurer. You had nothing. But within months of entering the casino, you were handling hundreds of gold. You’ve still got that talent.”

“You can find your way back. You’ve done it before, and you can do it again.”

Miriam couldn’t tell if these voices were hallucinations or fragments of her subconscious desperately injecting her with hope.

What mattered was that she was starting to believe them.

“All right. First… I’ll survive,” she whispered.

Miriam decided not to die.

She didn’t know how she would repay her debt. But one thing was certain—she would return to the casino.

And when she did, she was determined to win.

The VIP room, which had been operated experimentally for just one day, had only 30 patrons.

However, its impact lingered even into the next day.

Requests to keep the VIP room open were pouring in.

“Manager Hyden! We demand the VIP room be made permanent!”

“Your Grace, the Marquis.”

“To be frank, I experienced supreme pleasure yesterday. I’ve never felt such an exhilarating thrill before… Hah. Come to think of it, I learned the frivolous term ‘thrill’ from this casino. Before it was established, life was dreadfully dull.”

“I deeply appreciate your high regard.”

“If you want to maintain that regard, keep the VIP room open!”

The person leading the charge was none other than Marquis Tripolia, one of the kingdom’s most influential figures.

On the surface, he was just a pot-bellied old man.

But in truth, he was a powerful noble with vast lands, thriving estates, and significant influence in the royal court. Even some royal blood ran through his veins.

He had always complained about the mundane nature of the standard tables, and now, having finally had his wish fulfilled, he seemed utterly ecstatic—enough to publicly pressure me on behalf of the other VIPs who had accompanied him.

“Your Grace, that would be truly difficult.”

“The customers—we!—are asking for it. Why on earth would you say no?”

“…”

“If you keep the VIP room open, hmm? Your commission will only increase. Do you know how tedious it was for me all this time? I kept my composure, but playing around at a mere 30-silver table never satisfied me!”

His voice grew increasingly louder.

The other VIP-level customers waiting behind him began chiming in to support him.

“I didn’t even get to see the VIP room. This is customer discrimination.”

“No other place offers this kind of experience! The dealers elsewhere are clumsy, and the staff are too rough! This is the only place that can fulfill my desires!”

“Please add Three-Card Poker and Casino War to the VIP room as well. Why don’t you respect niche preferences?”

The customers were practically pleading to spend lavishly in the VIP room.

Among them were those who had won big yesterday, as well as some who had started with 100 gold, reached 200 gold, but then lost continuously at the end, finishing at just +20 gold.

And there were even more who hadn’t been granted entry at all.

All of them unanimously demanded that the VIP room remain open.

Truthfully… this was an expected outcome.

For the affluent, who wouldn’t blink at spending several gold on a meal, the 30-silver tables must have seemed painfully dull.

There were smaller gambling establishments that mimicked my casino, but their management was sloppy.

Thuggish operators, obsessed with squeezing out immediate profits, didn’t even consider things like payout rates.

So, for these elites, who had finally experienced a properly run casino and a playground befitting their stature, there was no going back to the first floor.

I was willing to continue operating the VIP room as they wished.

There was no reason to refuse something as profitable as the VIP room.

But there was a process to follow before making it official.

“Dear customers.”

“Blackjack…!!”

“Yes, Blackjack and Baccarat. …I understand your sentiments. However, before responding to your requests, I have something to say.”

I clasped my hands together and stood before the customers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you may remember a woman named Miriam who entered the VIP room yesterday. She was a regular visitor to the casino and possessed sufficient funds to qualify for entry. …However, whether due to bad luck or something else, she lost a staggering sum of over 500 gold. She later revealed that it was her entire fortune.”

Some of the VIPs let out gasps, perhaps recalling Miriam’s pitiful state.

Feigning a somber expression, I closed my eyes briefly before continuing my speech, deliberately taking a deep breath and speaking slowly.

“I learned about her story and lent her money under generous terms. Of course, it wasn’t to encourage gambling but out of a naive hope that she could rebuild her life.”

“However, Miss Miriam took that money and immediately returned to the gambling tables. …As some of you may recall, she ended up losing even that money and became a debtor. I never imagined that my act of goodwill would lead to such a disastrous outcome.”

“To prevent this from happening again, I am establishing new rules. Starting today, loan sharks and pawnshop operators are prohibited from entering the casino. Furthermore, private financial transactions within the casino premises are also banned. Violators will face up to a month-long ban from the casino.”

A ban on loan sharks and pawnshop operators. No personal money lending allowed inside the casino.

The serious tone I had created was now ready to be lightened.

After pausing deliberately for a moment, I let out a short sigh and announced:

“My apologies. The VIP room will remain open going forward. Additionally, to atone for my mistake of lending money to a customer, all drinks will be offered free of charge for the next week.”

“Wooooaaahhh!!!”

A cheer erupted immediately.

Marquis Tripolia, the spokesperson for the VIPs, raised one arm triumphantly, and the other influential customers who had supported him joined in the celebration.

They seemed to believe they had forced me to yield and secured the VIP room through sheer persistence. But really, I was doing this for my own benefit.

“We will continue to do our best for you, our valued customers.”

Pretending to reluctantly agree to the VIP room’s permanence.

And naturally implementing new entry restrictions in the process.

It was all thanks to Miriam.