Chapter Forty-Five: The Wager

Chapter Forty-Five: The Wager

Berryman’s Dive stank of smoke and stale beer. There was an old Southern rock record playing. I didn't recognize the music, in fact, I don't think it was music that you would find in the real world, and yet somehow, I still knew that it was way out of date. This place was like stepping back in time.

The furniture was mismatched, and the tables were so old and fogged over with grime that they could probably never be clean. There might have been seating for fifty but there were only ten or so NPCs scattered about.

“Don't talk to the guy scratching his arm,” I said. My friends looked over in the direction I was staring at.

It was a skinny man with a big coat and a knitted beanie on his head. He sat at the bar near the front of the building minding his own business. When he scratched his arm, he would pull up his sleeve enough so that you could see large welts that looked like bug bites.

“Don't play number twenty on the jukebox,” I said. I had no idea why. I just knew that we did not want to play that song. I saw “This is scaring me” on the red wallpaper. I assume that was a fairly serious warning.

I continued looking around.

What caught my eye next wasn't an omen. In fact, I wasn't the only person to notice.

“Look at the bartender,” Kimberly said.

He was an older guy. Thick around the middle, unkempt Gray hair. He seemed mild-mannered as he cleaned shot glasses behind the bar. He looked at us expectantly, ready to take our orders.

Eugene. NPC. Plot Armor: 90.

That was officially the highest Plot Armor I had seen on anything in Carousel and it happened to be assigned to some random bartender who didn't even have any tropes that I could see. How strange.

Dina ordered us a round of beers and Eugene got to work supplying them.

For the most part, the bar seemed safe. More omens might come and go as the day went on but right now there were only three. The two I told you about and the one in the back. The one that we came here to see.

At the back of the bar, a man sat at a table. His dark hair was combed neatly. His face was cleanly shaven. He wore a nice suit, the kind you might see on a Southern gentleman walking the streets of Savannah. He was shuffling cards and nursing a whiskey. There were poker chips on the table. As soon as we walked in, he looked at us and smiled.

“Nice day today, wouldn't you say Eugene?” He asked.

Eugene nodded and gave out a lackadaisical “Uh-huh.”

“The only thing that could make it better would be a nice game of cards.”

“Uh-huh.”

They went on talking back and forth like that. They never really said anything of substance.

It was obvious to everyone what was going on here.

This was the man we had come to see.

The man playing cards was called Mysterious Gentleman on the red wallpaper.

“What's the trigger?” Dina asked.

I scanned the red wallpaper. Everything that I knew about the Mysterious Gentleman was as follows.

His poster read: The Mysterious Gentleman in Antemortem.

Mysterious Gentleman

Plot Armor: 18 (Adjusted from 67 by Show Ticket)

__________

Tropes

Soul Read

This villain has insight into the player’s soul. (Moxie)

A Deal is a Deal

This villain will not lie about a promise.

Self-Restraint

This villain intentionally limits their own power for this storyline.

Ambiguous Alignment

The villain is morally gray.

Bender of Truth

The villain will always take advantage, when possible, outside of directly lying.

Unholy

This creature is weakened by general Demonbane

If he were a higher Plot Armor, he might have had more tropes. These were the basics. Luckily, it appeared that the ticket Dina had been given lowered its level down to 18.

The red wallpaper also told me “Get to the Car!” was the difficulty level.

It also showed me how to trigger the Omen.

“The storyline doesn’t trigger unless you lose a wager with him at a game of cards,” I said. Carousel must have set him up as being a character that could help you if you beat him in your wager but if you lost you would have to play the storyline. That was far fairer than most omens.

Of course, that assumed that he was beatable.

Kimberly, doing what she could to help, said, “His Moxie is seven. If that matters.”

“So just don’t make a bet and we’ll be fine,” Anna said. “And don’t talk to him too much.”

Dina thought about that for a moment. She downed her beer. “No wonder people get stuck here for decades.”

I knew she was about to go wager something against him. She had that look on her face, the same one she had worn when she smashed the pumpkin in The Final Straw II.

"Buff my Grit," she said.

"Wait," I said.

"You can buff Grit, right?" she asked.

I could. I would have to make a prediction. She must have seen my Cinema Seer trope on the red wallpaper. Allies could usually see each other's tropes.

Her Guarded Personality trope. Up until that point, all it did was prevent me from seeing anything about her on the red wallpaper, but as they played, I could see the frustration growing on the Mysterious Gentleman's face. He was having a tough time reading her too.

I couldn’t see every card played, but I could tell that sparks were flying.

As time wore on, he started to take the lead. I didn’t know if he was cheating or if his Soul Read was just too strong, even with her Guarded Personality.

Once the chips started to stack up in front of him, he started getting cocky.

"So," she said. "You said you wanted to pick your prize. Want to tell me what that was?"

“You'll find out soon enough, my dear," he said. "No need to get in a hurry."

"Whatever," she said. "We can raise the stakes next game if you're up for it."

He smiled wide, unable to resist the bait, "I don't think there will be a next game."

Dina remained cold. “And why’s that?”

The Mysterious Gentleman smiled. “If you really want to know my prize, I'll tell you. I think I’ll take your soul.”

There it was.

My friends all bumped up two Plot Armor. They had been buffed.

When I had warned Dina of the dangers of the Mysterious Gentleman, I had predicted that he would try to steal her soul.

A prediction he just confirmed.

My Cinema Seer trope had just buffed her Savvy and Grit.

Her Guarded Personality trope was powered by Grit.

Whatever insight he was gleaning from her was now even more difficult to obtain.

Dina smiled.

I suspected she might also have an insight trope that was helping her, but I didn't know.

Now, the game was fairer.

They went back and forth more. Dina didn’t have a runaway victory, but I could see that the Gentleman was slowly losing his footing. The cracks in his game were showing.

Within a few dozen hands, he was down to his last few chips.

“You are very difficult to read,” he said. “Do you know that?”

“All in,” Dina responded.

The Gentleman put in his last chips. The cards were shown.

He lost: his three-of-a-kind against her full house.

Just like in the movies.

Suddenly, we were Off-Screen. Dina hadn’t tripped the storyline after all. It turned out the Mysterious Gentleman was beatable.

The Gentleman started to laugh. “Well played.”

Dina didn’t waste any time with pleasantries.

“Tell me how to bring Sean back,” she said. “You promised.”

The Gentleman nodded his head. “A deal is a deal.”

The lights in the bar started to flicker. A faint red glow started to emanate around the room, but I didn't know what the source was. The Mysterious Gentleman closed his eyes.

He kept them closed for a while. His brow furrowed, confused. Still, he continued.

“Strange,” he said. “How did your son die?”

Dina cleared her throat. “Cancer.”

The Mysterious Gentleman pursed his lips. “I can't find him. You said that he died in Carousel?”

Dina shook her head. “No. We were in California.”

The gentleman furrowed his brow again. “California? Where is th—”

His eyes shot open. He pressed his hand to his head. It was like he was having a migraine. He started to groan in pain. He threw his body back and forth in his seat.

“The man on the top floor. He watches us through violet lights. He is the one you need. He looks for dark stories. Like yours. Like... mine.”

He started to look around the room. It was like he had never seen the place before.

“How did I get here?” he asked. A look of sudden realization. “He’s done it. That sick man, he’s trapped me.”

He started to breathe very hard. His face began to change.

His teeth grew sharp and started to get longer. His eyes glowed red. I could even see the faintest points start to rise from the top of his head.

He became overwhelmed by a panicked rage.

“I have to escape. Where? How do we leave this place?”

Dina backed up from the table. She backed away until she was near where we were.

“Is there no escape? We must go t—”

Bang.

The Mysterious Gentleman dropped to the ground; a large hole had opened up in his forehead.

I looked to my right and saw Eugene, the level 90 NPC standing with a shotgun trained at the place the Mysterious Gentleman had been.

Eugene turned to us. “I had to do it. You saw him. He was... some sort of monster.”

The man spoke without emotion. He was delivering a line, nothing more. He put the gun back under the bar and went back to polishing glasses.