Investment

Four men played poker at a table. 

Mark watched as two of his comrades folded their hands, but this time he was feeling a bit confident. 

"Raise." 

He smiled and pushed a few coins forward. The man across from him did the same. 

The final card was flipped over, and they revealed their hands. 

"..."

Mark stared at his opponent's cards, then at the man's face. 

A vein popped. 

"Goddamned cheater! What the hell did you do now!?" 

Looney B laughed while greedily using his arms to scoop the coins he had just won. He then collected his straight flush along with the rest of the cards and reshuffled them. Looney A and C also started laughing while they patted Mark on the back. 

"It happens to all of us. Here, have a drink." 

Mark ignored the bottle Looney A passed to him and instead glared at the man. 

"You could have at least told me!" 

Looney A devilishly smiled. 

"What's the fun in that?" 

Mark sighed, looked at the amount of money he had gambled away, then sighed again. 

'Lunatic bastards. What good could these damned misers bring? If only-' 

An idea popped into his head. 

He took the bottle that Looney A offered him and raised it high. 

The beer seemed to shine with a tantalizing glimmer as Mark stretched his mind to the three men. 

"From now on, the winner gets a shot. Ok?" 

He pulled at a different emotion and watched the Loonies nod in agreement. They were probably confused since the losers usually took shots, but it didn't matter too much. 

Mark then focused on Looney B, stretching his mind for the last time. There was only one feeling he needed to draw out. 

Desire. 

He watched as determination crawled onto Looney B's face, and his shuffling started to become more rapid and complex. It was elaborate, a beautiful skill. 

Whether Looney B wanted to drink or to show off, Mark didn't care. He was simply pleased to see the man working hard to get himself drunk. 

A round passed, then another, and then ten more. 

The moon tentatively rose into the darkening sky, its body fully exposed and shyly giving off a rapturous hue. 

Bottles filled the table while the Loonies intoxicated themselves with manipulated glee. Loony B was by far the worst, his shuffling slightly slowed down while his mouth became increasingly bold, saying all sorts of things in a nearly incomprehensible banter. 

As for Mark, he never won a game. The three men looked at what seemed to be his bad luck with some sympathy, but for some reason, they could never feel bad for him under the waves of joy they felt from winning. 

He watched as the game finally died out. The loonies were too drunk to continue. 

'There we go.' 

At this point, he knew nearly everything about the three. The various conversations Mark spun up had led to the three drunkenly retelling stories about their lives- from the bland little tales to the most intimate spiels. 

Mark had his time as a bartender to thank. It was his skill in manipulating with alcohol that let him pull this feat off. 

Now, it was time to reap the gains. 

He looked at Looney B and handed him the cards with a smile. 

"You should show us some of those funny tricks." 

Reluctance showed for a second on the man's face, but Mark mercilessly squashed it. 

"He's right! Give us what you got!" 

"Don't hold back!." 

Looney A and C vehemently agreed, not knowing why they wanted to see some parlor moves but doing so nonetheless. 

Looney B suddenly felt a burning desire to show off and prove his greatness to his comrades. He looked at Mark's pale black eyes, which shined under the radiant pub light with an eager hue. 

"Ah screw it! Now you all look closely. I'm about to show you my family's 10 secret arts to success!" 

Mark folded his hands and watched as the man went through a great variety of intricate maneuvers, drunkenly trying to explain each one of them but only making the tricks seem more complicated with his half-slurred rants. 

The other two loonies quickly grew enamored with the beauty of the techniques, not studying them as Mark was but instead watching it like a performance- which is kind of what Loony B wanted in the first place. 

In the end, Mark was unable to learn any of it for himself, nor could he fully comprehend the techniques. But he seared the images into his memory, watching each movement until his eyes felt like they were burning. 

'All right, the first thing I do is buy myself a pack of cards to practice these things. This investment will surely pay off!' 

He smiled, thinking about all the future people he would scam. He originally planned to use his ability to get the better of his comrades, but it turned out that card tricks were slightly superior in deceiving others. 

The pub owner approached with trembling hands, wary but mostly fearful of the three hoodlums in his establishment. 

"Here's the bill- if you people would be so kind." 

All three of the loonies went silent when they saw the amount. 

Then they glanced at Mark before turning towards each other with a common thought in mind. 

'Shoot-'

Mark stretched his mind and quickly thought about what emotion to bring out, but it was too late. 

"The loser should have some type of punishment, right?" 

The three nodded. 

"..." 

Mark looked at them with exasperation and tried to draw some sympathy from the three, but his efforts were akin to splashing a mere droplet of ink into an ever-expansive lake. 

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he brought out the money for the bill. 

"Bastards!" 

...

They walked out of the pub into the cold embrace of the night. 

The three loonies laughed at whatever little things caught their attention and amusement. 

Mark wiped his face, stricken by the losses he incurred. 

He clenched his fists with bitter resolution and looked ahead at the moonlit streets.

'It's an investment. A goddamned expensive investment!' 

His words didn't give much comfort. 

Another group of people approached from the front of the four while Mark wallowed. He was seriously weighing the amount of money he could get by using card tricks and what would be the best ways to go about it. The delicate balance of reaping as much as possible without making enemies was easy to break, but maybe his ability would be able to help in that aspect.

The loonies' laughter filled the night with a jovial vibe, one that broke the peaceful pact of the silent streets with an arrogant authority- one that could only be possessed by belonging to a gang. 

 Immersed in the jubilation of his comrades, Mark let himself lay back and simply enjoy their presence, and the pleasant air they seemed to create from nothingness.

It took them by surprise when Loony C bumped into one of the approaching fellows.