2 Coincidence? Impossible

One week has now passed since the Night of Falling Stars, and nobody quite knows exactly what has happened. You see, dear reader, you and I are aware of what Old Rydel did before his death, and how his inheritance has been spread out, but others aren't privy to that information.

From the perspective of the rest of the world, Old Rydel's tower suddenly had bright explosion above it, spurring the night of Fallings Stars, and Old Rydel was found dead the morning after. Unsurprisingly, news of his death spurred the continent into all sorts of discussion: How did Rydel Alabaster die? What exactly was the Night of Falling Stars? Where was Alabaster's inheritance?

Conspiracy theories quickly spread throughout the continent: some said that Alabaster was assassinated by the monarchy of the continent, while others said he wasn't really dead, and merely faked it to ascend to an even higher realm. Yet even others claimed that the Night of Falling Stars was a sign of the end of the world, and Alabaster's death was a sign of worse things to come.

No matter what one believed, two things were certain: there was some sort of explosion above the tower, and Rydel Alabaster is dead, without an heir.

While this news would be enough to inspire any aspiring young cultivator, I assure you, it meant nothing to the main character of this story. In fact, the barely 22 year-old David Maliere was completely indifferent to the events shaking the Continent of Phimux. In fact, there was only one thing on his mind: rent.

You see, David was a bit more... spoiled than most people. He was raised to a wealthy, noble family, the Malieres. However, his parents decided to cut him off at age eighteen, after realizing he had not learned any discipline from such an easy upbringing. Now, four years later, David was struggling to even pay rent. He lived in a small shed, located on another person's property. He paid them one silver piece a week to stay there, although his funds were running too low to even afford that. He needed more income.

David cooked up a plan to make enough money: there was a small alleyway not too far from his shed, where local men down on their luck went to gamble. All sorts of street games were played there, be in marbles, cards, or dice. If there was one thing David was good at, it was cheating. He had spent time learning various card and sleight of hand tricks, and was now confident enough to scam a couple games off of someone to make enough rent for the month.

David made his way to that alleyway one night, wearing a worn, brown coat with long sleeves. Little did the other gamblers know, these sleeves were full of various pockets, where David was keeping full, loaded cards. Stepping into the alleyway, he was stopped by a large, bald man.

"You here to play?" The bald man asked, his voice barely more than a grunt.

"Yea. Cards." David replied, confidently.

"They're playing over there. Remember, I catch you cheating..." The bald man made a throat cutting gesture, then kicked David towards the group. David gulped, then hid his nervousness. He'd be fine. There's no way he'd be caught.

David sat down across from a man who seemed to be dealing. There were three others sat down next to him, each with a respectable pile of gold in front of them. David nearly salivated at the sight of all that money, but held it in. He'd have to keep his composure.

"What's your name, kid?" the dealer barked to David as he sat down. "So we know who to hunt down if you cheat."

"Da-" David was about to say his name when he realized it'd be much smarter to give a fake name. Then, he'd at least be able to hide if he got caught. However, he had to think fast. He'd already said D, so the fake name had to start with a D. David was struggling to come up with something.

"Come on kid! Your name?" The dealer barked once again, losing his patience.

David's mind scrambled. In his panic, David said the first word that popped into his mind.

"Devotion."

"Your name is Devotion?" The dealer almost laughed. "No wonder you were embarrassed to say it. Your parents probably hated you." With that, every sitting for the card game erupted in laughter.

"What a stupid fucking name!" The man to Dav-no, Devotion's- left found it particularly hilarious.

While those in the gambling alley found it funny now, in time, the entire continent would be terrified of the Devil Named Devotion. But that was a long way off. For now, he was in an alley, about to cheat to pay off rent.

"Whatever. Let's just play. Buy-in is one silver."

"I don't have any silver." Devotion replied.

"Then you'll pay somehow for each piece you owe us." The dealer chuckled as he said that, revealing a set of crooked teeth, some missing. Devotion gulped again, clenching his teeth and hoping to not find out what that meant.

The first hand was dealt, and Devotion was out of luck. He didn't want to cheat just yet, that would be too obvious. He'd have to blend in and take a couple bad hands. The first hand went to the man to Devotion's left, the one with a thick moustache.

"Since you can't pay up, we'll have to have the bouncer here do it by proxy." The dealer chuckled again. The bald man from earlier lumbered over to Devotion, pulled him to his feet, and slapped him across the face as hard as he could. Devotion was sent spinning from the slap, swallowing the mouthful of blood he almost coughed up.

Everyone in the alley erupted in laughter, then went back to their games. This routine repeated for about ten games, each time Devotion would be dealt in, lose, get slapped, then play again. An hour later, he decided it was time.

Devotion was dealt another hand, this one just as poor as his last ten. What rotten luck. However, putting on his best poker face, he rose the stakes.

"How do we feel about all-in on this round?"

The man with the moustache looked at Devotion, then chuckled. "I'm in, but if you lose, you'll have to work for me without pay for a year."

"Deal." Just at that moment, the repeated beatings from the night caught up with Devotion, and coughed up a mouthful of blood. He covered his mouth with his hands, wiping it away, drawing more jeers from the other gamblers.

The man with the moustache slid all of his winnings from the night into the center of the alley. Devotion nearly salivated over all the money. There had to be at least one hundred gold pieces in there. It was the most money he'd ever seen since being cut off from his family wealth!

The man with the moustache revealed his cards first: he had four of a kind, one of the best hands possible to be dealt. However, his smug grin turned to a look of horror when Devotion revealed his own hand: a royal flush! He had won!

"T-There must be a mistake. He cheated! There's no way!" The man with the moustache erupted in fury.