Interdimensional Stranger

Davis Halwart, born a poor household with a abusive father and mother, running away he ended up in orphanage. He when young was adorable, wide rosy cheeks and brown hair, he was short but like his mother and father he'd grow up tall.

The caretakers liked him and would play games with him, with this he got hooked on gambling, eventually starting to gamble from then on with fellow peers. From a cup of milk with some cookies to money that ended up close to a million.

In his youth he would gamble it all.

His guarantee when he couldn't pay his debts were his body, heart, lung, eyes, limbs. When those ran short, when another given away may end up with his death.

He had went from the East to West of America, ending up in Las Vegas it was his paradise, sure he lost more body parts but what did it matter to him?

He might not ended up or eat well while he's alive, but he's living and gambling, to him that's all there's to it.

But each day debts accrued and he was none the wiser, sure he knew but he never learned.

He had borrowed more money each day. Both to paying his original debts but accumulating more debt in total each day.

And when his eye was taken away from him, the pain made him finally wise up, this man's life can be measured the same as bank account, perpetually declining, but yet when these days passed he had made money, and little by little his debt went away.

He had lived in era where gambling was well defined but not yet backed by sciences, he could win a hand by thinking, a era where it was rigging it so you can't win rather than you won't win.

So each day he would go in a casino, pick out a certain table, win a little money at each casino and leave. Rinse and repeat until his debts could be payed in full.

As years passed he cleared his debt, sending the final bits to his debt collectors, and just like that all of them went away after the payment, nothing extra just a deal for extra money. In their line of business integrity is always apart of it, otherwise their customer would borrow money from someone else.

Someone who wouldn't bother you after debts are settled. Can't have that, otherwise where would we earn money?

Coming from this he wanted off gambling, moving away from his past for brighter future. The man wanted more than than being crippled and running out of money. Looking for employment he ended up as dealer in the same casino he'd originally lost his eye at.

James Harold's Golden House of Roulette, the owner to him was smart, his tricks never worked as these games weren't rigged like the rest.

In sense he was correct, the rest could only allow you to win ten percent maximum, this you can multiple your money by a one to ten thousand chance, a once in life time bet.

Sure a customer might win every decade or so, but this is definite way to earn money consistently.

The man he had lost his eye to, the man wasn't bad but didn't have a good track record, he'd honor his promises but wouldn't help other unaffiliated with him. Money shone in his eyes and his actions showed that.

To him, the boy had grown up and is capable, he could deal and he could make him money, he could be considered attractive when dressed up a bit so what of it?

Hiring a gambler was never something he'd consider risky. So handing the grown boy a suit, a eyepatch and a series of instructions on how to speak and how to act. Etiquette for a man who doesn't know how to dress.

And when dressed he was six feet of dashing, brown hair was common but his azure eyes were eye catching. He was slim but tall and felt elegant but mysterious. His hair was long and tied in pony tail, hairs showed but it did not feel out of place.

So he was sent off to deal, woman swarmed him as his boss suspected. While he was originally uncomfortable he played his role and got his paycheck. And a small loan for him to get on his feet and on his job.

So each day for about six hours he'd deal, Blackjack, Poker, Roulette, all would he do. He'll do it well too, no one made money when ever he was on job. After all he know how these gamblers think, after all he'd done everything they've done before.

When they've won he'd trick them into losing it all again.

Roulette had the best odds, it wasn't too hard to rig but laws dictate what you can't do and what you can mostly.

But now that he knows the casino's tricks, the way he spoke, his honey drizzled words could get people off their feet and gambling their life savings away, even when they've won, "Come one and all, the chance is high! Double, triple, quadruple your money!"

"A little gambling can never hurt, play well and earn some of that back! After all, we all know our casino doesn't cheat our customers, you've seen those men, living on the streets one day, off it the next on single bet worth less than ten dollars."

That was every day for him in past, making small margins off correct percentages, sometimes he didn't eat because his winnings weren't on his calculations.

He could do more but risking his only source of income wasn't acceptable to him.

But sometimes he did better than that and had a feast, saving was never in his agenda. He'd given that all up now, after all starving it empty apartment or eating till your bloated is neither a correct choice or a good one.

He was satisfied, a job, a apartment, steady money coming in he started raking in money, stocks were never hard to get. And another source of income cropped up, like his younger days he'd bet on statistics.

He saw when markets could fall, and when he was twenty five he had lucky break it was peaking on the stock exchange, selling it all today at what he'd presumed it's peak for months.

He was wrong, stocks crashed and money's value went down, he had realized how much he had on hand, he had capital to invest, drugs, prostitutes, alcohol, nothing was dirty enough and money came in droves.

So when his steady earnings came to all time high, his boss had adopted him, it was weird for him who never had someone who'd he'd consider a father to him. But he knew he wasn't after his money, he had quadruple his total wealth in liquid assets.

Why would he need more, no man could not be satisfied as one of the richest. So when motives unknown he still had no good opinions about this man, he had taught him lesson and gave him job but he had earned plenty of money for him.

At this point even if he wasn't dealing he still cooperated with him to earn massive sums of money.

For this lesson this man took the boy's eye, to have it forever gone, it's best not to hold grudges, but it's hard not to hold grudges.

His biological one he wanted to shoot him, his mother was shot by his father but if he had the chance he'd shoot her too. He said no the first time, the next day same conversation, the day after that another of that type of conversation.

But something that day came up, "You know I don't have family, orphan like you. I understand you like gambling so when I died you would have what I'd own and a casino to call your own, you understand."

The man had pause that day, but continued rejecting him, his boss grew more aggressive pushing it on him but he stayed firm.

It was next month before he was persuaded, though he had money he had no family, and this man he had known for years almost a decade and he hadn't scammed him.

He shouldn't start now, few words were exchanged between them but the paper work would be done and he'd be his son.

And starting from then years passed like water, it felt boring and unreal without the excitement he'd craved, people came and people left from his life.

His father, though unnatural felt like a dad to him, technology always improved so he'd lived long, a full ninety years from the start of his birth.

It was his father's birthday that day, with presents in hand and off with smile what welcomed him was not his father but a fellow colleague at that casino.

He had informed him of his father's 'untimely demise', and dropping off his presents he ran up to his fathers office calmly.

His dad always liked to joke, he seemed serious and he is but he definitely would pretend he was dead. It would be a joke just like last year and the year before that, he would never allow himself to die on his birthday.

But instead of a living father filling out paper work or a surprise, or drinks or drinking, it was a dead father lying down seeming asleep in his chair, but he knew as soon as he saw him he'd never wake up from that.

Damned fucking casino, every day after he would think, he had lost his eye to it, he had learned, he had lost money to it, he had not cared, he had lost that light from his life he cherished above all else in his youth, he had cared but not as much as this.

Taking his father, the man that had shared his wealth even when he considered it above all else. That damned casino killed him. The stress running it killed him, his hands balled up in fists his eyes dripping with tears and his eyes blood red red.

Taking his father out and told to be put in his office he went and got a pipe.

He broke vases, he broke what was in the room all of it, the forty years history smashed by him and when he regained his calm the room was broken with shards of glass and wood all on the ground.

Pictures of his father lay crumpled and pencils and pens lay broken under his foot.

He sleeps normally from nine to nine, but that night and every night after that he never could get that much sleep. His health deteriorated fast his drinking and lusting and drugs certainly not helping.

He'd abandoned gambling in favor of family but without family what would hold him back, his father wanted a descendent but what would it matter if he's too dead to see one.

In his youth he'd never win enough to live well, but he'd pick that over winning when he just wanted to die. All day when not drunk he'd see the face of his father smiling but in pool of his blood.

Not peacefully passing as a demon dragged him down to eternal damnation.

And every time he was drunk he was talking his father. Telling him to get his life together. What was the damn point, except every time he'd ask that gambling crept up and a voice in his head would always say it can get better.

'You can get richer, you can live longer and escape Hell, live so you may end up in Heaven.'

He'd become rich, has money so he had power but is it for? No one cares, his employees does their job to earn what they deserve.

Family's dead and he's too old for any children, he was going to adopt but figured it was better if he didn't. So when he had enough he'd tried to hand himself, his oldest employee from when his father around told him something from one considered an uncle to him he listened, "Come on, you should know better, your old man wanted children but you didn't give him that so do what he had wanted in his youth and earn more money."

"Should try and accomplish at least one of his goals in life."

He wanted higher pay and the man knew he knew it, the boy had long become a man and how is boss now and his employees wanted higher pay, it's reasonable to him so he didn't give damn.

He knew it himself, drinking won't let you live long, so he in his final years set about running casinos, the thing he knew the best.

Management could be learned and gambling the same, sure, but having a teacher to tell you how get people to spend their money is better.

So he had tried and succeeded, people knew of him from all over the world, from Macau to Las Vegas he had the number one casino. People went and bet, he'd wear what his father gave him on his first day on the job even if it wasn't the original.

Duplicates made with more intricate material and fit to his size.

He'd maintain pretenses, get others drunk and spending money. Every day until he was on his last breathes in office, plaques everywhere, a photos sitting around.

Pictures of his father and him drinking, gambling, talking, sightseeing, anything in his memory he'd consider good.

And a final jar, a vat of liquids sits inside which a eye lays. The man takes it and opens it staring into it before closing it to write his will for when he dies.

But that day where he died never came as instead he was greeted by a strange thing... A face so intricately crafted that nothing he could think of could compare, but breaking him out of his trance was male voice, sounding interested and of full of smiles.

"Come on, I know who you're, come one and all you would say, so why don't you make a bet with me!"