Chapter 124

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Despite his seemingly reckless demeanor, the punk was quite shrewd. Seeing the limit on participants, he knew he couldn't just stand by idly. The earlier one completed a round, the more advantageous it would be. Otherwise, there was a risk of losing the opportunity to participate in the rounds one wished to play, leading to a situation where one would have to reluctantly choose a round one was not confident in.

On the other hand, he had played billiards for quite a while. Although he wouldn't dare to claim to be an expert, he was somewhat confident. Hence, not knowing what was to come in the following rounds, he decided to step forward and pick a round where he could potentially have an advantage!

Seeing no one else raised their hand, the secretary pressed a button under the table. Following a series of mechanical sounds, the gambling table descended, and a rather unique billiards table surfaced.

"The rules of Happy Billiards are as follows: There are a total of 15 balls, seven of which are red, representing the challenger. They are marked with symbols of the left hand, right hand, left foot, right foot, hair, left kidney, and right kidney. When any of these balls fall into a pocket, the corresponding body part of the player will be immediately removed."

"On the other hand, the seven white balls, marked with values of 1 million, 1 million, 800,000, 800,000, 100,000, 5 million, and 5 million Berries, are the targets the challenger must pot. Each potted ball will yield the corresponding prize, which will be awarded immediately."

"However, pay special attention to the ball marked 'Death'. If potted, it means instant death and an immediate end to the round."

With the secretary's clear articulation of the rules, a palpable silence filled the room. This wasn't gambling with money; it was gambling with life itself!

The prizes for the white balls were a mix of high and low amounts, seemingly odd. However, if one were to match each white ball to the corresponding red ball, they'd realize that the prizes were proportionate to the 'surprise' costs of the corresponding body parts!

"What's so happy about these rules? This is absurd!"

The punk's face turned sour, and his woman immediately expressed her discontent.

Happy Billiards?

Wasn't this just a devious bait?

But who was to blame when no one else was fooled, and it was the punk who had rushed to participate?

On the bright side, the rewards were quite substantial. If all white balls were potted, one would instantly earn well over a million Berries!

It could indeed be considered a fast track to riches!

In this regard, those in the gambling hall were indeed truthful.

Moreover, the punk had no way out at this point; he had to proceed.

"Heh, in the end, isn't it just about billiard skills? Call my opponent in already!"

Then everyone saw the secretary tie up her hair, flash a faint smile, and say, "I am your opponent. We can start now."

The so-called 'VIP seats' seemed more like a lavish party for the wealthy?

The spacious room was filled with a variety of exquisite food and drinks, even boasting a swimming pool and an artificial beach.

Those enjoying the venue included kings from various countries and affluent tycoons. Even a Navy Colonel from the North Sea branch was present!

These individuals were either engaged in lively discussions or whispered in small groups.

The decisions made here could very well dictate the future of a country or deals worth millions, even billions.

After addressing their business matters, these individuals would immediately immerse themselves in the pleasure and entertainment around, their laughter accompanied by the occasional coquettish giggles of women.

Meanwhile, the walls were adorned with large screens.

A few of these screens displayed the faces of the secretary and the punk among others.

Everything happening in VIP Room 444 was being live-streamed through Den Den Mushi, a form of entertainment in its own right.

Abel, who had suddenly found himself amidst such circles, could only admit that these people knew how to have fun. He'd never been to such high-end places in his two lives combined. Today, he got a glimpse of how the real powerholders, those with wealth and influence, spent their leisure time.

Moreover, this was only in the North Blue, considered by many a 'backwater'. It was difficult to imagine what sort of spectacle one might encounter in the Grand Line or the New World.

Honestly, if it weren't for the casino owner giving face to Donquixote Doflamingo, Abel and Baby-5 might not have been able to enter this place, even with their status as members of the Donquixote Family.

With a critical eye, Abel first sampled the buffet and was immediately impressed. The quality was quite good!

Ignoring the strange looks from the people around, he immediately sat down with Baby-5 and started eating. One of the worst things about traveling was the food — it was usually poor and never enough. This time, Abel felt like he had struck gold, and there was no holding back.

Baby-5's thoughts were even simpler. If Abel was eating, she would eat. Plus, the food was genuinely delicious.

The food here was meant for entertaining the rich and influential, so its quality was undoubtedly top-notch. The chefs were champions of culinary competitions; there was no way their food wouldn't be delicious.

Moreover, the place Abel chose provided a direct view of the live broadcast from VIP Room 444. It was an even more surreal experience, allowing them to enjoy their meal without missing out on the action.

At this point, the first round of gambling in Room 444 was nearing its end.

"Hahaha, back in my hometown, everyone calls me the 'Little Prince of Billiards'. Today, I'm claiming all the money on this billiard table!"

"My darling, you're incredible! Muah~"

With only the white ball worth 5 million Berries left on the table, the punk's laughter echoed arrogantly. His woman did not hesitate to reward him with a passionate kiss.

The punk then received a million Berries from the secretary.

According to the rules, it was the secretary who started the game. She didn't pot a ball, and then it was the punk's turn.

The punk, skilled and lucky, managed to pot one ball after another, leaving only the last white ball on the table.

However, as the golden cue ball gradually came to a stop, the punk found his laughter fading. Near the easiest pocket, a terrifying black ball was still at rest. He wasn't completely certain he could pocket the white ball without knocking the black one in as well. If he were to accidentally pocket the black ball, not only would all the money at stake lose its meaning, but it might also cost him his life.

"It's not worth it, let's try another way," the punk muttered, opting for a more difficult shot out of caution, aiming for the remaining white ball.

With a resounding thud, the golden cue ball struck the white ball precisely. Everyone watched nervously.

It was getting closer, closer, almost there!

The punk was excited, the white ball seemed ready to drop into the pocket, but at the last moment, the angle was slightly off. The ball hit the pocket's edge and bounced out.

There was a collective sigh.

Though the brawny man and the brother with glasses had little love for the punk, they still hoped he would win as they shared a common enemy in the beautiful woman sent by the casino.

"Hmm, missed by a bit. Fine, it's your turn," the punk said nonchalantly as he returned to his seat, not fully realizing the implications of his failed shot.

The secretary, with her blonde hair tied in a ponytail, confidently approached the table. Before anyone could react, she casually potted a red ball.

The punk shot to his feet, his face stricken with anxiety.

He almost forgot — his life was on the line!

Every red ball pocketed meant the loss of a part of his body.

Which part?

The punk scanned the remaining red balls on the table. "Hands, feet, kidneys — they're all there. Thank goodness, she potted the 'hair'!"

Upon confirming that the potted red ball only represented his hair, he heaved a sigh of relief. In the short moment of suspense, his back was soaked with sweat.

"The first one, hair, you're quite lucky~"

At that moment, two suited men with sunglasses entered the room. Without uttering a word, they pressed the punk into his chair. Despite his struggles and protests, they forcefully shaved his head.

The punk, now bald, felt a chilling sensation on his bare scalp, a feeling that mirrored the dread in his heart.

His eyes were filled with fear!

No matter which red ball was pocketed next, it would be a loss he couldn't bear.

His only hope was to pray that his opponent missed her shot and then he could pot the last white ball, ending this incredibly tense game.

However, reality often fails to match one's desires.

Thud!

Another crisp sound echoed as the red ball representing the left foot was potted.

In the next instant, everyone's gaze was on him.

In desperation, the bald man cried, "No, no, no! Don't cut off my leg, I'll give you the money, I'll return it!"

The same two suited men approached, this time with a hint of gore in their actions.

The blind man frowned and wanted to intervene but found he had no sufficient reason to. After all, both parties had willingly participated in this gamble.

Regardless of the outcome, as long as there was no cheating, those involved should be prepared to accept their loss. This was his principle.

Therefore, despite his internal struggle, he sighed and chose not to intervene.

Let it serve as a lesson.

The bald man, now missing a leg, looked somewhat dazed.

To prevent him from bleeding out, the two men had thoughtfully bandaged his wound, ensuring he could finish the game.

Their attention to detail was almost heartbreaking.

However, for him, the nightmare was just beginning.

The secretary seemed to have stopped holding back, consecutively pocketing five more red balls.

Adding to the previous two, that was seven in total — a direct loss.

He could live without hands or feet, but losing both kidneys would only give him about two weeks of life left.

"The first round is over."

"No, I don't want to die, please save me. That's right, money, I still have money! I'll give you all my money, don't take my kidneys."

The bald man cried out in desperation, his arrogance from the prospect of getting rich overnight long gone.

"People tend to make mistakes when blinded by greed. Since he has already received his lesson, why can't we give him another chance?"

"Yes, yes, give me another chance!" the bald man quickly agreed when he heard someone speaking up for him.

The secretary originally planned to ignore him — she had seen such situations many times before.

But this blind man...

Recalling the executive from the Donquixote Family who had shown interest in Abel earlier when they entered the 'VIP seats', she felt there might be room for changing the rules.

"May I know how to address you?"

"Issho."

"Mr. Issho, changing the rules comes at a price," the secretary said with a meaningful tone.

"I wonder what the price might be?"

"Let's make it double the redemption."

The secretary gave a gentle smile. "Aside from the already reclaimed hair and left foot, the remaining parts based on the price from the earlier round sum up to 12.8 million Berries. Doubling the redemption would be 25.6 million Berries."

"And he only has 8.7 million here, still short of 16.9 million Berries."

Upon hearing this, the glimmer of hope within the bald man extinguished instantly.

If he had that much money, he wouldn't have participated in this particular gamble, chasing the dream of getting rich overnight.

However, the secretary's next sentence rekindled his attention.

"I assume he cannot afford this amount. If Mr. Issho is willing to repay on his behalf, that could be arranged."

Issho replied frankly, "I, too, cannot produce such wealth."

"No worries, we also provide loan services here. Mr. Issho, would you be interested?"

"Please, Mr. Issho, save me. I promise to repay your kindness, no matter what it takes!"

The bald man seized this last opportunity to plead. Bereft of his hair and a foot, his situation was indeed rather pitiful.

Issho let out a sigh, "Aren't you concerned I might not be able to repay?"

"Of course not, a mere amount of less than twenty million Berries is nothing to a 'distinguished guest' who came here specifically for Mr. Issho."

"Oh? And who might this distinguished guest be?"

Issho was a bit taken aback. This was his first visit to the North Blue, how could anyone here recognize him?

Furthermore, it sounded like the person who recognized him was quite influential?

This piqued his curiosity even more.

The secretary gave a smile, "I can't say any more. Otherwise, when the game ends, if the boss finds out, I'll be punished."

"In that case, I'll take the loan."

Seeing that she was unwilling to share more, Issho didn't press further.

He could find that person after the game ended.

He had involved himself in this due to his view of the game as excessively cruel. But given the rules, he couldn't intervene directly, resorting to this rather 'foolish' method.

Hopefully, after this harsh lesson, the bald man would change his ways.

With a sigh, Issho reluctantly signed the agreement.

"Thank you, thank you! I really appreciate it! Once I have the money, I'll definitely pay you back!"

Seeing that Issho seemed to be quite influential, not only could he make the casino change the rules, but also lend him money, the bald man couldn't stop thanking him, his face becoming excessively ingratiating.

Unfortunately, Issho was truly blind and couldn't see it.

Realizing this, the bald man quickly struggled to his feet and addressed the secretary, "Since someone is repaying the money for me, can we start over?"

"Start over?"

"Yes, didn't you say you could give me another chance? This time I'm certain I can win, my loss was just a mistake!"

This bold declaration stunned everyone present. Issho, who had just saved the bald man, revealed a wry smile and shook his head, retreating into his thoughts.

The secretary first appeared taken aback, but then a knowing smile played on her lips. "Are you sure you want another round? You might not be as lucky as before."

"I'm certain! Enough talk, let's begin!"

With a begrudging choice to restart, the bald man was surprisingly granted another chance by the secretary.

The game started identically. The secretary broke, sinking no balls.

Seizing the opportunity, the bald man, despite missing a foot, had a surge of inspiration and began sinking balls consecutively.

Soon it was down to the final shot, and the scene eerily mirrored the previous one, with the black ball resting near the pocket most easily targeted.

Would history repeat itself?

Or would he gamble again?

The bald man decided to risk it! He would not make the same mistake again!

He had paid such a painful price, and if he couldn't leave with a considerable sum of money, he would have no way to survive once he returned home, as he had stolen his family's entire savings before he left.

"Go on, sink it!"

Bang!

The last white ball sank into the pocket!

But it was accompanied by the black ball, the symbol of 'death'!

"No!!!"

"Help me, Mr. Issho, please, help me again!"

"I won, I sank the white ball!"

"Dear, why don't you say anything, huh?"

"You can't do this to me, you can't!"

With an indifferent gesture, the secretary had the screaming bald man escorted away.

As for the fate awaiting him, everyone knew all too well.

Yet this time, no one attempted to save his life.

Even Issho didn't speak up.

Despite this, someone wasn't willing to let the matter rest.

"Mr. Issho, why are you silent? If you would speak, we'd be more than willing to lend another twenty million."

If the first loan was a test, this time there was a trace of mockery.

'What sort of creature did you save?!'

To which Issho replied, "Choosing not to see can be a blessing. There are far too many detestable beings in this world, unbearable to the eye. I can't see into people's hearts, but I strive for a clear conscience."

As he spoke, Issho's face remained calm.

Choosing to save the man was an act of his heart.

Choosing not to save him again was equally an act of his heart.

"Choosing not to see can be a blessing."

While eating, Abel pondered over these words.

He vaguely remembered that the man had chosen to blind himself rather than continue witnessing the filth and vulgarity of the world.

Unfortunately, some things are not made invisible by merely blinding oneself.

He could feel the man's helplessness, his attempts to change something, but unable to alter anything with his lone efforts.

All he could do was wander aimlessly, awaiting an opportunity that might never come in his lifetime.

In his previous life, Abel felt the most empathy for this man, Issho, among all the Navy Admirals.

Of course, at this point, the man was not yet known as Issho but was merely a blind gambler.

In Abel's recollection, once Issho became a Navy Admiral, he prioritized the safety of civilians and detested acts of injustice.

He could openly admit to the World Government's mistakes, even leading the Navy to kneel and apologize to the Riku King.