The gambling man (OP Male Reader X Esdeath) Akame ga kill fanfiction

Chapter Twelve Point Five: A Different Kind Of Game

Night Raid's Base:
The meeting room:
Evening:
You're sat at the table, a long, singular monocle placed against your eye, magnifying the intricate details of your work.

With a twist of the dial, the picture becomes crisper, showing you the notch you made earlier, which you sear shut using the edge of a card.

When you're done, you wipe the sweat from your face and move the monocle to your forehead, holding the piece of armour up towards the light so that you may appraise it.

Bulat: "Umm...(Y/fn)? How much longer is this going to take?" Bulat's deep, baritone bashes its way into your ear, knocking you out of the zone, and causing you to violently jump.

(Y/fn): "We're ten minutes closer since the last time you asked," you reply, choking on the words due to the dryness in your throat.

Bulat: "O...kay...but why are you butchering my armour, exactly?"

(Y/fn): "It's for your own good, since you're now in possession of Liver's Imperial Arm," Bulat's eyes quickly dart to the ring sat snuggle over his middle finger. "You heard what he said on the Dragon Ship. His Imperial Arm is useless unless in the presence of water. I'm creating small openings in the plating and then shipping it off to a blacksmith under my employment, who will then modify them to house small vials of water for you to quickly utilise in battle," you twist the piece you've been working on to show Bulat the state of the armour. "There's about a dozen in the breastplate, arm and leg guards."

Bulat: "Won't this compromise the overall integrity of the armour, though?" Bulat questions. You bounce your arms and shake your head from side to side as you think.

(Y/fn): "Um...a little, in those areas. But the smith has already said he'll try to compensate by reinforcing the others," you say in an attempt to offer some much-needed reassurance. You have asked Bulat to place a lot of blind faith in you, so you can't blame him for his apprehension.

But your work is interrupted by the loud slam of wood against wall as the doors to the room are flung open and the embodiment of careless optimism comes strutting in (in all his emerald glory).

Lubbock: "Yo, boys, what's up!?" He shouts, causing you to fumble Bulat's chest piece, the three of you wincing as it gracelessly clatters onto the table.

(Y/fn): "Just a bit of tinkering," you respond with barely suppressed annoyance.

But your flame is smothered, somewhat, when Lubbock pulls out the seat next to you and takes a genuine interest in what you're doing.

Lubbock: "Huh...I'm not gonna lie, (Y/fn), I didn't take you for the building sort."

(Y/fn): "No, I don't think many would," you breathe as you pick back up the piece you were working on and pull your monocle back down over your eye.

Lubbock: "Man, I don't know where you find the time. If I was loaded like you, I'd be showing off for as many ladies as possible," Lubbock laughs. "Or, maybe, I'd live out every man's fantasy and form my very own...HAREM!!!" His enthusiasm nearly deafens you.

You simply shrug.

(Y/fn): "Meh, I always found having a harem to be rather...draining."

The room goes dead quiet.

You suddenly notice Bulat rapidly taking his leave without so much as a word.

As a cold chill runs up your spine, you realise your mistake. As a dark presence looms just outside of your view.

You quickly latch onto Bulat's arm like a newborn baby, hoping his strength will shield you from the impending storm. "Bulat, please! I'm begging you! Don't leave me!" Your cries go unanswered, as the man in question slips from your grip and disappears through the closest door.