Chapter 183: Mole
As Arthur settled back down, he saw a gleam of determination still in the man's eyes.
'Can't win 'em all, I suppose,' Arthur thought.
Even though he had stopped one plot, that didn't mean the man with the cigar didn't have more.
The round continued, and Arthur watched as the cigar-wielding player won the hand. His chips multiplied, yet Arthur rested his hand against his chin, disinterested.
Each player had their tricks, vaulting through their own personal loopholes, further implying how interesting this game was.
"Where ya from," the elder woman wondered, "if ya don't mind me askin'?"
"Let's just say it's far from here," Arthur answered, twirling the chips between his fingers.
Clearly, this woman didn't seem any more interested than he did in winning money. To her, blackjack was nothing more than a quest for financial gain. And from the looks of things, it became an elaborate cat-and-mouse game—a battle of wits.
He reveled in it—something deeper than he'd expected.
"What about you?" he asked. "Your face is almost everywhere I look in this city."
Some of the spectators whispered to one another. "What?" one said. "He doesn't know who she is?"