Still Doll

A Mocking Gamble

Noisy, lively and active: no single hint of apprehension could be seen from anyone aside from the security personnel as the cruise boldly upheld their scheduled casino-blues night on the third day of the journey, despite the billion-jennies lost from the previous night's robbery incident.

At first everybody on board was shocked, disappointed, and most of all, scared after hearing the news, which spread all throughout the ship like wildfire. Some even proposed to cancel the trip and just return to the land, but not everyone seemed fazed about it. Rumors had it that it was a one-man job, and only the vault was reported to be infiltrated. Many were under the impression that it was an inside job; it was too impossible to eradicate a whole troop of highly skilled guards alongside with professional assassins to be outdone by a single individual without an insider's help. Even the management itself had no reliable lead of the thief's identity, and they were somewhat reluctant to spill information as to avoid unnecessary spread of modified rumors, as well as to mask their guilty incompetence. And it seemed they wouldn't want to lose more money if they aborted the cruise, therefore they opted to keep going and just heightened the security instead.

Flocks of suited and armed men scattered all around the cruise. Civilian nen-users seemed to grow in number as well, wandering all over the vessel, mingling with other guests and passengers. It wasn't confirmed but because it was given that they were in the middle of the sea, the culprit was likely to be still on board, blending with everyone. The management seemed to be desperate to find and catch the bastard, and continued the cruise's event just as planned. Business as usual.

And that principle of 'life goes on' could be clearly seen as the casino lounge boomed loudly, crowded with all sorts of people, partying their asses out. The sound system was deafening, men and women danced and bet on their tables, carelessly dumping and spending money as if there was no tomorrow. The ghastly greed was suffocating. Sick. Ridiculous. But having no choice, Kurapika had to endure it all. It was the nature of his work to guard people who had so much money in their lives, they were willing to throw away some just for the sake of spending it. Even if their clients were the worst human being ever existed on earth, even if they killed and humiliated someone in front of them, even if their violence and greed were sickeningly unbearable, they had to hold their tongues and close their eyes: they were paid to do so. That included watching them display their excessive, self-intoxication of being wealthy and powerful, lavish gamble and senseless partying.

Standing right behind his current boss, Kurapika reluctantly watched Dmitri as he was playing poker with some of his colleagues. Almost all of them were familiar to him; they were quite prominent among the community. His employer seemed to be enjoying the game, he won numerous times, but lost for two consecutive times as well. Dmitri looked like he was taking it lightly, but Kurapika was pretty sure the man must be cursing vehemently inside his head for losing twice. This outrageous spending of money wasn't something Dmitri was fond of. He was okay with it, as far as Kurapika knew, but he wouldn't want to participate with it if he could help it; that was why it surprised him when the man played along but hadn't taken his leave, not even once, to go to the restroom, for almost two straight hours. An attractive, young lady clad with almost nothing but her see-through dress and pumps was affectionately purring at the man, cheering and enthusiastically watching the card game. Dmitri seemed to be engrossed with the game and the woman clinging on his arm. The blond couldn't exactly tell whether he was just putting up a face for the show or he was seriously enjoying the gamble.

And for the third time, the businessman lost the bet. Kurapika silently hoped it would pique Dmitri to his senses, finally call it a day and get his ass off of his chair. To his relief, Dmitri finally showed a small act of yawn and slight stretching of his arms after the game.

"Alright— that was fun," the Mafia head mumbled eagerly, sounding sincere. "But I think I should retire now. Sorry gentlemen, please excuse this old geezer for tonight." Dmitri already placed his hands on the armrests of his leather chair when an annoyingly familiar voice rose and took their attention.