Casino Royale

I was burning cash faster than a rocket burns fuel, and yet, the mountain of money barely seemed to shrink. That's when the mad idea hit me—a gamble. Not the metaphorical kind, but the literal, casino-style gamble.

"Hey, System," I called out, feeling the edges of my plan forming. "Is it legal for me to blow some of this cash at a casino?"

[All income must be earned through legal means. Gambling earnings are legally recognized. However, caution is advised in activities with high financial risk.]

"Caution, my middle name," I chuckled dryly. But then another thought nagged at me. "Hey, what about the dough rolling in from Ashburn Athletics? That's corporate, right? Stays off my personal cap?"

[Correct. Earnings through Ashburn Athletics are considered corporate assets and do not count towards your personal earning cap.]

"Well, fuck me sideways, that's some good news," I muttered, feeling a smidge less claustrophobic. But the system wasn't done.

[Reminder: Upgrading the Broke Man's System will allow for a higher personal earning cap.]

"Show me my stats," I demanded, curiosity piqued about how close I was to leveling up this mysterious benefactor of mine.

The air in front of me shimmered as the holographic display sprang to life, listing out my life in numbers:

[Damon Ashburn's Stats]

Strength: 7/100

Intelligence: 1/100

Dexterity: 5/100

Health: 2/100

EXP: 75/100

Attribute Points Available: 0

"Shit, I need to get smarter and tougher, apparently," I mused, poking at the intelligence stat with a grimace. "Alright, System, how do I upgrade?"

[Upgrading the Broke Man's System requires reaching 100 EXP. Engaging in high-value missions or significant personal achievements will accelerate this process.]

"Great, just need to find a mountain to climb or some such heroic bullshit," I muttered sarcastically, though the gears were turning. Maybe it wasn't a mountain I needed but a rollercoaster—one with high stakes and flashing lights.

Decision made, I grabbed my coat and keys. "Let's go make some noise," I declared to the empty room, my spirits lifting. If I was going to hit this earning cap, I'd do it making headlines.

As I headed to the door, my phone buzzed with a message from Mark, who apparently had a sixth sense for when I was about to do something questionable.

"Dude, heard you're looking to light some money on fire. Count me in. Where we headed?"

"Dragon City Casino. Wear something nice. We're going to break the bank or break ourselves trying," I shot back, a wild grin spreading across my face.

Stepping into the elevator, I hit the button for the garage where my McLaren waited like a beast ready to devour the streets. Tonight was about risks, about pushing limits, and maybe, just maybe, about finding that edge where fortune smiles on the bold.

Or, as my dad used to say before he spectacularly lost at poker, "Scared money don't make money."

As the elevator doors slid open, and I stepped into the cool, echoing space of the garage, I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight was going to be one for the books. Little did I know, it wasn't just my money on the line—it was everything I'd built. But that's a story for another night.

As I revved the engine, the sound roaring through the garage like thunder, I shot a last look at the security camera, a smirk playing on my lips.

Strolling into Dragon's Casino with the swagger of a man about to buy the house a round, I couldn't help but feel a twist of adrenaline. This place was a temple to chance, and I was about to test the gods.

"Hey System, any chance we can turn off Mr. Beast and the random bonus for tonight? I'm looking to drop cash, not double down," I quipped, half-expecting the AI to toss a snarky comeback.

[Modification of System multipliers is not permissible. All financial transactions will proceed as per established multipliers.]

"Great, stuck with high rollers' luck," I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I approached the high stakes area, a place that shimmered with more gold than Fort Knox.

Mark was right on my heels, his expression a mix of excitement and concern. "Damon, man, you sure about this? Casinos are cash black holes."

"Exactly what I'm counting on, buddy," I replied, slapping him on the back. "Plan is to make a big show, lose big, and walk out with a lighter wallet. Can't let Uncle Sam—or Uncle Richard, for that matter—get too curious about my sudden windfall."

The casino floor was buzzing, a hive of the desperate and the hopeful, each person clinging to the dream of a big win. As we made our way through the crowd, I could feel the weight of every glance. My last name, Ashburn, hung over me like a neon sign, drawing more attention than I'd intended.

Just as I was about to exchange a suitcase full of cash for chips, the casino manager, a slick fellow with a grin that had 'trust me' written all over it, made a beeline towards us.

"Mr. Ashburn, what an honor to have you at Dragon's Casino. I'm Clyde, the manager. Anything you need, just whisper. Your wish is my command," he oozed charm like a politician during election season.

"Clyde, pleasure's all mine. Here to play a bit—hopefully, not too much if lady luck has her way," I said, handing over the suitcase to a wide-eyed cashier.

"Of course, Mr. Ashburn. I've prepared a private table for you. High stakes, high privacy, just how our esteemed guests prefer it."

Mark nudged me, whispering, "Dude, private table means serious business. You sure you wanna dive in that deep?"

"Go big or go home, right?" I winked at him, though my stomach was doing somersaults.

As we settled into the plush seats at the private table, the reality of what I was about to do hit me. Fifty million on the line, and here I was, hoping to lose it all. The irony wasn't lost on me.

"Alright, let's do this. Blackjack, and keep the cards coming," I told the dealer, a middle-aged woman with the stoic face of someone who'd seen it all.

The game started, and with each hand, I pushed my chips into the center with the reckless abandon of a man on a mission. The system's multiplier worked against me, turning small wins into significant increases, which I countered by upping my bets to absurd levels.

Mark watched, his face a mask of bewilderment and beer-induced amusement. "Man, if you wanted to blow cash, we could've just bought a yacht or something."

"And miss all this fun?" I laughed, throwing down another bet as the dealer dealt me a pair. I split them, the gambler's equivalent of a double-or-nothing move, and Mark shook his head.

"You're insane, Damon. But I gotta admit, it's kinda thrilling."

The rounds went on, and with each play, my pile fluctuated wildly. Yet, thanks to the system's damned efficiency, I was still up by millions. Frustration mounted as I glanced at the dealer, who just shrugged as if to say, 'The house doesn't always win, apparently.'

After what felt like an eternity of ups and downs, I leaned back, the weight of my unrealized goal pressing down on me. The manager, Clyde, approached, a carefully curated look of concern on his face.

"Mr. Ashburn, you're on a remarkable streak tonight. Perhaps a break is in order? Our VIP lounge offers a spectacular view of the city—it might provide a nice change of pace."

"Thanks, Clyde. A break sounds like a winner," I agreed, needing a moment to regroup and plan my next move.

As Mark and I headed to the VIP lounge, the cool air and quieter atmosphere gave me a moment to think. The casino's lights twinkled below us, each one a reminder of the high stakes world I was playing in.

"System, I need a new strategy," I murmured, watching the city pulse beneath us.

[Consider diversifying your activities. Engaging in different types of gambling may increase the chances of reaching your financial objective.]

"Diversify, huh? Maybe it's time to hit the roulette wheel. Spread these chips like peanut butter," I mused, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

Mark clapped me on the shoulder, his grin infectious. "Let's go make some noise, Damon. Show this city what the Ashburns are made of."

"Yeah," I agreed, my determination solidifying. "Let's go shake up Dragon City."

And with that, we headed back into the fray, ready to take on whatever the night had in store. Because in the end, it wasn't just about losing money—it was about playing the game on my own terms. And I was all in.