What followed the teenager's success was a sudden and dramatic shift in the atmosphere of the arcade.
People began to gather.
At first it was subtle. A few curious glances. A couple of passersby slowing their steps. Then it escalated rapidly as more and more attendees were drawn in by the reactions of a group of clearly passionate young men who had decided this was no longer casual entertainment.
This was war.
Sleeves were rolled up. Jackets were handed off. Someone cracked their knuckles.
From the outside, one might have thought they were preparing for a ritual rather than a game. Stretching. Breathing exercises. Staring at the machine like it had personally insulted them.
Owen Mylor, for one, had won his first ever claw machine prize after stretching three times in place.
He had not stopped stretching since.
Every round, he repeated it with grave seriousness before touching the controls, convinced it was now a critical component of his success.
