Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 91 - Wish Kiss

Chapter 91 - Wish Kiss

After indulging in a luxurious meal, we made our way to the cruise ship's lavish casino, its golden chandeliers casting a warm glow over the sea of green-felt tables and the rhythmic clatter of roulette wheels. Just as I was about to slide into a seat at one of the poker tables alongside the seasoned gamblers, Myrrh stepped forward and casually claimed the player's chair.

"Hey, let me play this one. Just sit there and tutor me," she said, tapping the seat beside her with an air of confidence.

I blinked. "A-Are you sure? Have you even played poker before?"

Myrrh leaned back, crossing her arms, her lips curling into a smug smile. "I've watched some online. And don't you remember? I was your dealer against a certain cyber terrorist."

The memory hit me like a flickering reel of film—our encounter with Ismail Arondight, the infamous hacker from the Neo Terrestrial Reich. Myrrh had been the one to deal the cards in that high-stakes game, her hands steady, her gaze unshaken. Maybe she didn't need tutoring after all.

Before I could say anything, Myrrh nonchalantly pulled out her hard-case wallet. With a smooth flick of her fingers, she spread out a handful of crisp bills. "Don't worry, I've been saving up for this." Then, with an almost theatrical flair, she pressed a tightly wound roll of cash into my palm. "Go exchange these for chips, will you?"

I let out a dry chuckle, weighing the money in my hand. "You really came prepared for this, huh?"

Myrrh's smirk deepened, a playful glint in her eyes. "Let's just say I wanted to feel the same thrill you always had back in high school." She gave me a light nudge. "Now go! Get me my chips!"

I made my way to the casino counter, exchanging Myrrh's cash for a stack of polished poker chips that clinked softly in my hands. The weight of them felt significant, like the promise of fortune—or disaster—depending on how this night played out. As I returned to the poker table, the air was thick with cigar smoke and the murmurs of seasoned gamblers placing their bets.

As the dealer began shuffling and dealing the cards, I caught several older players sneering at Myrrh, their smirks laced with condescension. A young, fresh-faced girl sitting at their table? They clearly assumed she was an easy mark. And to be fair, Myrrh was new to this kind of gambling. I knew I had to guide her.

Leaning in, I whispered, "Always watch your opponents' faces, Myrrh. Pay attention to their mannerisms—the way their eyebrows twitch, the tension in their smiles. Every little movement could be a tell."

"Oh, okay," Myrrh murmured, nodding as she studied her cards. Without hesitation, she pushed a stack of chips forward, her eyes gleaming with determination. "It's all or nothing!"

At first, I thought she was just being reckless. But then, something incredible happened. Hand after hand, Myrrh started winning. She absorbed the nuances of the game at an alarming rate, identifying bluffs and spotting real threats with surgical precision. It wasn't just luck—she calculated probabilities, analyzed patterns, and adjusted her strategy on the fly.

The more she won, the more the older players' confidence wavered. Their dismissive grins turned into frustrated scowls. Some folded early, wary of the yellow-green-haired girl who had suddenly become the biggest threat at the table.

By the time the clock struck ten, a mountain of poker chips stood in front of Myrrh, a glittering testament to her newfound skill.

I stared at the massive pile, rubbing the back of my neck. "W-Whoa... You really are a Mary Sue. You actually won all that on your first try?"