Hiroki's style had changed.
Not gradually.
Not subtly.
It was immediate.
Ren felt it before he fully understood it.
There was no more composed breathing. No more calculated pauses. No more measured raises designed to provoke reactions.
Something else had taken over.
Ren studied him carefully.
That ring helped me… he thought.Not much. But it was a reference point. A pattern. Something I could anchor to.
The ring was gone now.
Crushed.
On the floor somewhere behind Hiroki's chair.
Even if he hadn't fully understood its purpose, it had been something solid. Something human.
Now there was nothing to hold on to.
Hiroki didn't look calm.
He didn't look calculated.
He looked hungry.
His pupils were dilated.
Too wide.
Too dark.
If they had been in a ring instead of at a poker table, Ren was certain Hiroki would have already lunged at him.
Ren kept his face neutral.
But his palms were sweating.
A faint headache pulsed behind his right eye.
The cost of that earlier state.
His flow.
It had almost completely vanished.
His greatest advantage was gone.
And he had no idea when—if ever—he would be able to awaken it again.
The dealer began distributing the cards.
Slow.
Precise.
Unchanged.
Hiroki's thoughts were no longer linear.
He wasn't seeing aura.
He wasn't sensing emotions.
He wasn't analyzing Ren.
Instead—
He saw a thread.
Thin.
Bright.
Almost white.
Stretching between him and the dealer.
Like a divine filament.
Invisible to the world.
Obvious to him.
A direct connection.
He didn't need to look at Reiji.
He felt him.
"Come on," Hiroki thought.Reiji… I know you feel it too. Strike exactly where it matters.
The cards slid into his hands.
Ace.
King.
Diamonds.
His lips parted.
"Huh."
It slipped out before he could stop it.
Was that satisfaction?
Or relief?
Or gratitude?
He didn't know whether he was pleased with the hand… or with the state consuming him.
He can't beat me now, Hiroki thought.
Not arrogance.
Not hope.
Certainty.
No matter what he does. It's impossible.
Across the table, Ren lifted his cards.
Queen.
King.
Hearts.
He glanced up at Hiroki.
He couldn't read him.
Not fully.
The clarity he once had was gone.
There were traces.
Faint impressions.
But not enough.
I don't need that state, Ren told himself.
I'll play the way I always did before it appeared.
Controlled.
Mathematical.
Sharp.
Hiroki's gaze remained fixed downward.
Reiji, he thought again, I hope you gave him something good too. I want to finish him properly.
There was no spoken word.
Yet somehow, he knew the thought reached its destination.
Reiji remained neutral.
A small raise from Hiroki.
Calm.
Measured.
Ren called.
The flop came.
Ten.
King.
King.
The room's temperature seemed to drop.
It was perfect.
Perfect for both.
Hiroki's eyes flickered with brief satisfaction.
He raised again.
Not aggressively.
Not timidly.
Just enough.
Ren analyzed instantly.
Two kings. Strong kicker. There are very few combinations that beat this.
His mind calculated.
The probability of losing at this stage was already extremely low.
He re-raised.
Hiroki called without hesitation.
They stared at each other.
Or at least, that's what it looked like.
In reality—
Hiroki closed his eyes.
Frequently.
Not in exhaustion.
But in focus.
He saw the thread.
It pulsed faintly.
Alive.
He could sense Reiji through it.
Heartbeat.
Breath.
Timing.
He didn't need signals anymore.
The ring had been primitive.
This was instinctive.
The turn came.
Queen.
Ren's pulse spiked.
Full house.
Kings full of Queens.
The best possible hand in this configuration.
Unbeatable.
Absolutely unbeatable.
There was no combination left in the deck that could surpass him.
He knew it.
Mathematically.
Objectively.
"Hey, Hiroki," Ren said, leaning slightly forward. "Why don't you just go home?"
The arrogance returned.
Even without his flow.
He didn't need it now.
He had certainty.
Hiroki didn't look at him.
His eyes were pointed toward the table.
Or perhaps beyond it.
"Shut up," Hiroki muttered quietly. "Just play."
Ren frowned.
Why is he looking down?
No glance at the dealer.
No touch of the absent ring.
No micro-expressions.
No tells.
Can't he play without that ring?
Something felt off.
But the numbers were absolute.
"Okay," Ren said calmly.
He pushed his chips forward.
"All in."
Silence swallowed the table.
The air thickened.
Hiroki did not hesitate.
Did not speak.
His eyes closed completely now.
From the outside, he looked unconscious.
Still upright.
Still breathing.
But somewhere else entirely.
Did he even see the turn? Ren wondered.
What's wrong with him?
Hiroki slowly pushed his stack forward.
All in.
Inside Hiroki's mind—
There was nothing but white.
An endless white void.
And the thread.
Bright.
Taut.
Alive.
He tried to speak.
He needed to say it.
But something restrained him.
Chains.
Metallic.
Appearing from nowhere.
Wrapping around his jaw.
His throat.
His mind.
Silencing him.
He strained.
The pressure intensified.
The chains tightened.
He tried to form the word.
But it wouldn't leave.
He bit down.
Hard.
The metal cut into his teeth.
He felt something crack.
Blood filled his mouth.
He bit again.
Again.
Desperate.
The chains fractured.
Shattered.
He grabbed the thread.
Pulled it closer.
And whispered—
"Ace."
At the table—
Ren heard a murmur.
Hiroki's lips barely moved.
A faint sound escaped.
"Ahhhs…"
Reiji's breath caught.
For a fraction of a second—
Something passed through him.
Recognition.
Understanding.
The cards were revealed.
Ren showed first.
Full house.
Kings full of Queens.
Dominant.
Absolute.
Hiroki revealed his hand.
Trip Kings.
With Ace-King.
Strong.
But inferior.
The room exhaled.
Reiji's thoughts raced.
What was that? I heard him.
Hiroki… brother…
Then—
A tiny moment.
So small it didn't exist.
A microscopic delay.
The dealer adjusted the deck.
An awkward motion.
Out of character.
Not visible.
Not obvious.
But—
Not natural.
Ren saw it.
But he didn't observe it.
The difference was fatal.
The river descended.
Ace.
Time stopped.
Sound disappeared.
Ren stared at the card.
Then at the board.
Then at Hiroki.
Full house. 3 of K and 2 Aces.
Stronger.
Stronger than anything Ren held.
Impossible.
Ren's pupils widened.
His mouth parted slightly.
Hiroki opened his eyes.
Fully awake now.
He was smiling.
Not arrogantly.
Not mockingly.
Just… satisfied.
The hunger was gone.
Ren's thoughts collided.
There were only four Aces.
Probability—
No—
It doesn't—
Something had shifted.
In that tiny moment.
That microscopic hesitation.
He saw it now.
Too late.
His mind tried to reconstruct the sequence.
The angle.
The timing.
But it slipped through his grasp.
Like trying to hold smoke.
The dealer returned to neutrality.
Perfect.
Flawless.
Untouchable.
Ren's breathing slowed unnaturally.
The headache intensified.
His flow did not return.
Instead—
An emptiness spread.
A realization without clarity.
Something had been wrong.
But he couldn't prove it.
Couldn't articulate it.
Couldn't even fully grasp it.
Hiroki leaned back in his chair.
Eyes half-open.
The thread was gone.
The white void vanished.
He was breathing heavily.
Alive.
Victorious.
But exhausted.
Ren looked at his own cards.
Then at the Ace on the river.
Then back at Hiroki.
"You…" Ren whispered.
But there were no words after that.
The room was silent.
Too silent.
Not the silence of tension.
The silence of judgment.
Somewhere far behind them—
A door clicked.
Ren didn't turn.
He couldn't.
He was still staring at the river.
Trying to replay it.
Trying to understand.
Trying to calculate the impossibility.
The numbers no longer made sense.
The game had shifted.
And he had not noticed in time.
Hiroki's smile faded slowly.
He seemed almost confused himself.
Reiji stood motionless.
Expression blank.
But something in his posture had changed.
A rigidity.
A quiet acceptance.
Ren finally lifted his gaze.
He felt it.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Something colder.
The realization that the table had never been the real battlefield.
That this—
Was never just about cards.
His lips moved slightly.
"Interesting…" he murmured.
No one responded.
A faint metallic sound echoed somewhere behind him.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Ren didn't resist.
He didn't protest.
He didn't accuse.
He simply understood—
Too late.
The game had ended.
And not in the way he had calculated.
There are rules beyond the table.
A breath.
A pause.
Then—
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