aOS v.1.15

Alex leaned back in his chair, feeling the tension ripple through the room. He had just cleaned house in the last few hands, and the pile of chips in front of him was proof enough. Despite his success, an odd, creeping feeling gnawed at him, like something wasn't quite right.

A familiar voice sliced through the background chatter. "Well, well… if it isn't the Brick Phone guy."

Alex turned, recognizing the voice immediately: Jack Connors. Jack—the guy who had played him into buying drinks for everyone at Neptune's Paradise, ballooning his debt to 3.5 million dollars. And now, here he was again, smug as ever. But what caught Alex off guard wasn't Jack's presence—it was the fact that Jack wasn't sitting at the poker table. He wasn't playing. weCube had shown Alex every participant in the game, and Jack wasn't listed among them.

Alex had known from the start Jack wouldn't play, but it still nagged at him. Jack had invited him to this game, after all. Why show up and not join in?

"You didn't play," Alex said, more of a statement than a question, his voice neutral, though his eyes narrowed slightly.

Jack grinned, casually taking a seat on the sidelines, well away from the action. "Nah, decided to sit this one out. Figured I'd just watch the show. After all, I did get you into this game, right? Seems only fair I see how you do."

Alex's jaw tightened. Jack's invitation had brought him into this high-stakes situation, but Jack wasn't risking a thing. He was just here to observe, stirring the pot from the sidelines. Why wasn't he playing? What was Jack's angle this time?

Jack's gaze flicked to the massive pile of chips in front of Alex, and his grin widened. "Looks like you're holding your own just fine. Much better than back at Neptune's."

The mention of Neptune's Paradise sent a familiar, unwelcome twist through Alex's gut. The memory of Jack tricking him into that humiliating mess—buying drinks for the entire bar, racking up a debt that nearly ruined him—was still fresh. Jack had set him up back then, and Alex wasn't about to let him do it again.

But still… why wasn't Jack playing?

Alex kept his eyes on the cards as the dealer shuffled for the next round. He could feel Jack watching him from the sidelines, but he wasn't going to let it get to him. Not this time. 

"You've come a long way from Neptune's," Jack continued, leaning back, his voice laced with amusement. "I thought you'd figure things out faster back then, but hey… better late than never, right?"

Alex gritted his teeth, refusing to let Jack's words get under his skin. He wasn't the same guy who fell for that trick at Neptune's. Now, with weCube feeding him every piece of critical data, Alex had the upper hand. He already knew every player's hand at the table—bluffs wouldn't work, and neither would Jack's games.

The dealer slid the cards across the table. Alex glanced down at his hand: Ace of Diamonds and King of Spades. A strong hand, but not unbeatable.

The flop came down: Queen of Spades, Eight of Diamonds, King of Hearts. A pair of Kings, giving Alex a solid position. But his attention was split—Jack's presence, even just watching, was enough to stir old frustrations.

"You know," Jack said, his voice casual but laced with that familiar edge, "watching you here, it's almost like reliving Neptune's all over again. Except this time… you're winning."

Alex ignored him, his focus on the cards. The turn card came down: Jack of Hearts. Alex's heartbeat quickened, but not from the game—it was Jack's continued presence, needling him from the sidelines. Jack wasn't playing, yet he was still very much a part of the game. Watching. Waiting. 

The dealer revealed the river: Ace of Spades.

Alex barely glanced at it. He knew he had two pair, Aces and Kings—more than enough to secure his win. But Jack didn't know that. He was just watching, his grin never faltering, as if he expected Alex to slip up any moment.

The other players hesitated, glancing nervously at their hands before folding, one by one. The final pot slid toward Alex as he quietly gathered the mountain of chips.

From the sidelines, Jack leaned in, his tone almost playful. "Guess you're not the same guy I met at Neptune's, huh?"

Alex stood up, pocketing his winnings. He didn't even glance at Jack as he replied, his voice calm but firm, "No. I'm not."

As Alex left the poker room, his mind buzzed with the tension of his exchange with Jack. He pushed through the glass doors and headed towards the cashier's cage, the clinking of chips in his pocket reminding him of his victory. The casino was a blur of lights and sounds, but all he could think about was cashing in his winnings.

Once he reached the cashier's window, he placed his stack of chips on the counter. The cashier, a young woman with a friendly smile, began counting the chips with practiced ease.

"You played well tonight," she said, glancing up at him. "Looks like you took home quite a pot."

"Yeah, just trying to make the most of it," Alex replied, his heart racing with anticipation.

After a moment, she tallied the chips and calculated his total. "You're cashing in fifty percent of the pot money as the first place. Congratulations! Just a few deductions for the commissions and the entrance and exit fees."

Alex nodded, fully aware that the house would take its share but eager to see the final number. The total pot from the eight players was $8 million, with Alex winning 50%—a staggering $4 million before any deductions.

"After the fees, your net payout is… $3,650,000," she announced, handing him an envelope filled with cash.

His heart raced at the amount, a flood of relief washing over him. This win could be life-changing. It wasn't just a temporary escape; it was a significant step toward regaining control over his life. He realized this was just enough to settle his debts.

With a quick calculation in his head, he felt the weight of the envelope pressing against his side, and his mind raced as he considered what to do with the spare change. Should he invest some of it, save for a rainy day, or treat himself to something nice for once? Just then, Kofi chimed in, his voice laced with that familiar snark.

"Don't forget to buy a new headphone, Brick Phone guy. Yours is looking a bit worse for wear."

Alex couldn't help but chuckle, a genuine smile breaking through his earlier stress. "Right, because nothing says financial stability like splurging on fancy headphones."

"Hey, it's not just about looks," Kofi replied, his tone playful. "You need a good set to match your newfound wealth. Plus, you deserve a little luxury after all this time. And remember, I'm not just some pod—I'm your voice of reason!"

"Sure, the voice of reason that almost got me kicked out of the last poker game," Alex retorted, shaking his head but unable to suppress the grin. "But maybe you have a point. A decent pair of headphones could actually improve our communication. I might even get you one that doesn't fall apart every other day."

"Now we're talking!" Kofi exclaimed, clearly pleased. "Just imagine it: you, me, and a high-quality sound experience while we plot our next moves."

As Alex walked through the bustling casino, glancing at the various shops lined with luxury goods, he could almost picture himself picking out the perfect pair, something sleek and stylish. It felt like a small victory in a sea of bigger challenges, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to feel a sense of hope.

With his debts on the brink of being settled and the prospect of a new headphone looming, Alex realized he could chart a different course for his future—one where he wasn't just surviving, but thriving. He had the opportunity to redefine himself, and Kofi would be right there with him, every step of the way.