Leaving five trails of thin red lines behind it, the titanium-colored jet zipped through the air, easily slicing through the air with a sleek design, breaking the sound barrier a few times over. Cutting up above the clouds, rendering it impervious to any weather conditions, the ride was quickly stabilized. To those inside, it felt as if they weren't moving at all.
Hikari didn't know such things existed. That such things could exist. It was almost terrifying that such a thing existed. She would have been terrified for sure riding inside of the thing, but there was no room in her mind for terror right now. Everything that had just happened was too amazing, too relieving.
Taichi had been placed in the bedroom of the jet, a small chamber towards the back and right of the jet, mercifully sedated. The rest of the interior of the plane consisted of a closed-off chamber up front for the pilots, and then the primary room. Everything was cream colored, a fine wood finish on the walls, gleaming with polish. There were about a dozen chairs around the room, a pair of large black screens against the left wall, and a mahogany cabinet with glass doors, showing a few rows of multi-colored bottles and about thirty glass tumblers against the back wall. A thick carpet on the floor completed the chamber.
Takeru was seated in one of the seats, near the front left of the room, left leg crossed over his right and a tumbler filled with a brown liquid and a couple cubes of ice in his right hand. Hikari had finally gotten over the amazement of being so far above the ground, moving so quickly, and had gotten to the ground in front of Takeru. Kneeling, she put her head down to the floor.
"Thank you so much, master," she said. "I owe you my life, and my brother owes you his life. I don't know why you've done this, I can't even begin to understand it, but you have my word that I'll never forget this. Whatever you ask of me, I give you my word that I'll do it, it's the absolute least I can do."
"Thank you," Takeru said. "That means a lot to me," He waved upwards. "Alright, that's enough, point is made, get up."
She rose up, slowly getting to her feet, enjoying the feeling of the carpet, a luxury she had rarely enjoyed in recent months.
"And master is no good, that's not okay, makes me sound like an old man. You say master, I'm looking over my shoulder to see if you're talking to my father or something. Sir will be fine." Takeru sipped from his drink. "Sir is good."
"Yes sir," Hikari said, nodding as she stood up.
Takeru glanced out the circular window, out into the darkened skies around the jet. "Like the ride? Twentieth birthday present from my parents."
"I've never seen anything so amazing in my life," Hikari said. "Uh, sir."
Takeru grinned. "You should see the big ones. Brittania just released one that seats three hundred people." He leaned towards the window, looking towards the rear. "Those trails we're leaving behind us dissipate ninety-nine point seven percent within three seconds," he said. "Leaves so little pollution behind, it basically doesn't leave any. I could drive this thing around at top speed for a week and leave as much pollution as a car does in half an hour."
Hikari just stood there, blankly nodding.
"Well, go ahead, you're either going to ask questions now or be confused later," Takeru said, waving at her. "Oh, and I should thank you as well." He reached into his chest pocket, pulling out the four playing cards. "First one ever, never would have happened if not for you."
"What do you mean? First one ever?" Hikari looked down at the card in her right hand, examining the queen of hearts.
"Oh, right," Takeru said, rolling his eyes and lightly smacking himself on the forehead. "Of course. Okay, so, long story short, the goal in poker is to make the best five-card hand using a combination of your two private cards and the five public cards in the middle of the table. The best possible hand you can make is called a royal flush, which is getting a ten, jack, queen, king and ace, all of the same suit. Odds of getting one are nearly thirty-one thousand to one. Just a little more than three one thousandths of a percent. Very, very rare. I've been playing poker for ten years, never have I gotten one. I know people who have been playing for thirty years, haven't gotten one. So it's pretty amazing, and...well, if it wasn't for you being there, wouldn't have happened."
Hikari nodded. "I...I see." She pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. "W-well, w-why did you want me? If I might ask, sir. What made you want me?"
Takeru sipped from his drink again. "I'm a practical, sensible person, I like common sense and logic. So I was sitting there last night, listening to Hido babbling about how...how you're going to figure out how to work in the field or else, how he doesn't care that you're clearly not made for outdoor work...I don't like it."
He reached up towards the collar of his shirt, placing his thumb and forefinger on a spot near the right corner. "How far out are we? Alright, thanks." He then tapped his collar a few times. "It's Takeru, I'm gonna hit the tarmac in about eighteen minutes, pad number three. I need Miss Tanaka and Doctor Roberts waiting there. Thank you."
He looked back up to Hikari. "Sorry, anyway...I mean, think about it. If you were a musician, and someone gave you a few instruments and told you to...put together a piece with the instruments you've been given, you'd use the instruments in the way they were designed to be used." He sipped from his drink again. "You wouldn't...take a tuba and...put guitar strings along the mouth and try to use it as a makeshift guitar. You'd use the tuba like a tuba, right?"
Hikari simply stood there, looking at him blankly, nodding after a moment.
"U-uh...you don't...you don't know what a tuba is, do you?" Takeru said after a moment.
"No sir, I'm sorry," she said. "Or a guitar."
"Ummm...okay. If you had a cake, and you needed to slice it up to serve, you'd use a knife. You wouldn't use a spoon. And if you saw someone using a spoon to slice up a cake, you'd think that was odd. Is that better?"
"Yes sir," Hikari said. "So...w-what do you have in mind for me?"
Takeru leaned back, sucking a deep breath through his nose. "I'm not entirely sure yet. I have an idea, but I won't know for a few days. It will be something, something appropriate. What did you do at the Ripley estate?"
"I waited on house parties, I cleaned up after meals, I served their children, I did some work in the kitchen, and I kept the house in order," Hikari said quickly. "Standard house slave duties."
Takeru nodded. "It...could be something like that, but...this could be a little different for you. You'll be working for the family business, so you won't be working inside of a house. You might be doing things like that regardless."
"What's your family business?" Hikari asked.
Takeru gave her a small smile. "My family runs a casino, The Mecca. Biggest casino in the region. One hundred and fifty thousand square feet, every game you can think of, thirty-two restaurants, day spa, and two hundred hotel rooms. It's..."
Hikari's facial expression remained unchanged as Takeru ran down the details of his family business, causing him to grind his explanation to a halt.
"...and, you don't know what a casino is, do you?" Takeru said.
"I'm sorry sir, I'm afraid not," Hikari said, shaking her head.
"Right, right. Uh, well...it's a very, very large facility, and it's filled with all kinds of games you can pay to play. Some games you play against...the other people, others you play against the casino. It's gambling. That's the main thing. There are thousands of casinos in the world, this is one of the bigger ones. There's also, uh, food, the spa, several years ago we expanded into a hotel and resort area, so there's a lot going on."
Hikari gave a quick nod. "Yes sir, that's makes sense."
"Over twenty years ago, before I was born, my father bought a space in a strip mall, a few thousand square feet, turned it into a casino. Called it The Palace. It wasn't much, a few dozen slot machines, a couple dozen tables, a bar and restaurant. I've seen pictures of the place, don't really remember it." He leaned in towards Hikari. "But the trick was, quite simply, my father's utter devotion to the place. He made the best of every single inch of that space. He had a vision in his mind of what the casino would be, and he spent his life making the reality match his vision. Every person he ever brought in to work there, he made sure they were the best at what they did. The dealers, efficient and smooth in running the games. Waiters and waitresses knew the menu backwards and forwards, remembered every detail of every order. The bartenders, they remembered everyone's face and your favorite orders, you could look at them and they'd get your favorite drink. The chefs, they could have just been short-orders and nobody would have minded, but he made sure they were masters, and made sure they had the best ingredients to work with. People loved the place. Within a couple years, every night, filled to capacity, not a chair or a machine open, money flowing in like a waterfall."
Hikari hung onto every word Takeru had to say, finding herself oddly fascinated by being told so many things. It was not typical for one in her role to be given details about anything. Quite the opposite, it was more like she'd be told as little as possible unless it involved her directly.
"He ended up buying out the space one over and knocking out the wall to add more machines and tables. Didn't take long for it to start filling up again anyway." He smiled again, pride at his father's accomplishments clearly showing. "So, back when I was still in shortpants, he got busy. He made deals, took out loans, found backers, pulled out every trick he could...and he got his hands on enough money to make his real dream come true. Started building a big boy casino right in the heart of the big city. Somehow, the crazy guy kept The Palace running while constructing The Mecca, and that should really tell you something about the man." He leaned back, putting his hands up behind his head. "After a year, The Mecca opened. But to him, not much changed. Everything still had to be perfect, and he wouldn't rest until that was the case. Only difference was there was now a lot more to think about. But he didn't mind. And because of that, there's no better casino on the planet, and no casino makes more money. I'm telling you all this so you understand what's expected of you, if you work in my father's casino."
"Understood, sir," Hikari quickly replied. "I'll be as perfect as your father needs me to be."
"His name is Hiroaki Ishida," Takeru said. "Effectively, he'll be your master. The reason why I'm telling you all this is so you understand what's going to be expected of you. We treat our slaves very well, and we ask for perfection in return. Fall short of his expectations, it reflects poorly on me, and we'll toss you out to auction without a thought."
"Absolutely," Hikari said. "I can tell your father has worked extremely hard on his business, I wouldn't dare try to tarnish that."
"Alright. Tangent over," Takeru said. "We'll be landing in a little more than ten minutes and I'll pass you and your brother off."
Hikari's eyes flashed at the mention of her brother. She had nearly forgotten about his circumstances. "A-and, Taichi, my brother, what of him?"
"Still trying to figure that out," Takeru said. "I'm confident that our medical staff can get him back to full health in a few weeks. I suppose we could use some help in the kitchen, getting the ingredients from the delivery trucks to the storage room, something like that."
She nodded. She couldn't have hoped for much better. "One more...w-why so much?"
"I'm sorry?" Takeru said, taking a final drink from the glass before setting it down on a small tray to the left of the chair.
"For me, with...with Hido, I mean...that was a lot of money. Right?" Hikari asked timidly, wondering if she was just giving away her complete lack of knowledge concerning money.
"Oh." Takeru gave a wry little smile. "Yeah, it was...significant. Maybe stupid on my part." He propped his left foot up on his right knee. "Hundred grand for you, hundred grand for your brother. If my father knew he'd beat the heck outta me. Don't tell him." He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "And I can't even say I'd blame him."
"I-I don't know anything about money," Hikari said quickly. "I do know that I sold for...ten thousand when the Sasaki's bought me. Taichi was fifteen thousand."
"Sounds about right," Takeru mused. "I mean, I don't know what you and your brother looked like back when that happened, but that sounds reasonable. You've obviously deprecated since then, but I'd still guess you could get auctioned off for...eight thousand. And your brother...well, you might get a grand from soneone willing to sell organs and body parts. Probably closer to seven hundred."
Hikari stood there, nervously fidgeting.
"I knew I needed to make a big offer to get Hido to bite," Takeru explained. "He wouldn't go for it unless he was getting at least fifty percent of extra value. And then when he got mad, I had to go crazy."
"But why am I worth one hundred thousand dollars to you, sir?" Hikari asked.
"You're not," Takeru said simply. "In deals like this, things aren't that simple. I evaluated your worth at a hundred thousand, but I got you for nothing." He shrugged. "All I spent was a couple hours of time, really. Maybe you're worth nothing to me."
Hikari gave a small grimace, looking down at the floor.
"I mean, you're not, but you could be."
Hikari looked back up at him, entirely confused, particularly when he gave her a bemused smile.
"I'm sorry, that was mean," Takeru said, turning again to look out the window. "But you're not worth one hundred thousand dollars either. The truth is somewhere in the middle. Couldn't tell you where. I've been playing poker with Hido for ten years, I know how he plays, I know his tells, I know how to outplay him, and I know I'm better than him. Wasn't that worried about losing to him."
Hikari gave a little head nod of acknowledgement. "That makes sense, sir. I think that's all I have."
Takeru pointed at the chair across from his. "Why don't you have a seat over there? In a few minutes we'll fly over the casino, you can check it out from the air."
OOO
~Takeru~
Takeru took the steps down from the exit of the jet, quickly stepping onto the tarmac below. Waiting for him below were two individuals and a small four-wheeled vehicle. There was one other jet, identical to his own, on another platform to the east. The massive casino was a little ways away to the north, a short car trip away.
"Evening," he said casually. "Roberts, we've got a pretty severe case." He pointed with his thumb towards the door to the plane. "He's in the bedroom, been through a lot."
The good doctor was about the same age as Takeru's father, out of his traditional white work coat, wearing instead a black leather jacket. His most distinctive feature was his nearly trimmed and small beard. One of the first hires Hiroaki had made when opening The Mecca, as a capable medical staff was required when bringing in such a significant fleet of slave labor.
"This is a slave, right?" Roberts asked. "What should I do if I find him to be a sunk cost?"
"This is a little different," Takeru said. "No sunk cost line, I want him in condition to work again. Whatever it takes. If Hiroaki asks, it's my problem."
"Got it," he said. "I'll let you know what I think tomorrow afternoon."
Roberts quickly stepped around Takeru, taking the steps up to the entrance of the plane. Hikari poked her head out of the doorway, quickly getting out of the way so the doctor could get in.
"Tanaka." Takeru went up to the other awaiting person. A woman in a lilac trenchcoat, hair done in a bun and slick, slim glasses on her face. "I've got a new worker up there." He again pointed up towards the jet entrance. "She's gonna need some work done though, she's been working outside for six months. Clean her up."
"Not a problem," Tanaka replied, looking up as Hikari's face again poked out. "Come on down!" she said, waving towards Hikari. Cautiously, Hikari began to make her way down the stairs. "What's the plan for her?"
"Depends on how she looks when you're done," Takeru said, lowering his voice as Hikari got closer. "I was thinking she might work well with The Angels, so do everything you can."
"Her?" Tanaka said, squinting over Takeru's shoulder. "That seems like a reach."
"Absolutely," Takeru conceded. "I could be way off. If I don't like what I see when you're done, she might work in the kitchens or waiting tables." He leaned in closer to her. "I just kind of feel like she might bring something a little different to The Angels, might play well."
"I'll do my very best," Tanaka said. "Give me about three days with her. Anything else?"
"She's had nothing to eat but protein blocks for the last six months, get her some real food. It'll make her sick after so long without it, but it's either gonna happen now or happen later. Get it over with now so her stomach can adjust before she starts working." He stepped around Tanaka. "And she's a little shy, try to be nice." He went over to the car, jumping into the passenger side.
OOO
The silver elevator doors slid open, a low little beep signalling it's arrival at the proper floor. Takeru stepped out into the large living room, his bag still slung over his shoulder.
"Evening, sweetie." Natsuko came around the corner to the right, emerging from the kitchen.
"Ahhh, I'm blinded by white!" Takeru said, throwing his hands up over his face. His mother was clad in only a white bathrobe, and her face was covered in a thick white cream.
"That was funny the first time, it's really not funny the eighty-seventh time," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Oh, gimme a break, I've done it at LEAST a hundred times," he said. "Give me some credit."
"So, did you win?" she asked, going over towards the large red velvet couch, in an area in front of the elevator doors.
"Course I won, I was playing Hido," Takeru said dryly.
So obsessed was Hiroaki with running his casino to perfection, he and his family resided on the top floor of the structure. Above all the game rooms, the restaurants, and the hotel and resort, on the twenty-first floor, the Ishida's ruled The Mecca from on high. It was no less carefully maintained than every other floor, with beautiful and expensive pieces of art on every wall and on every surface. The living room was large, several couches and a wall made up of over a dozen giant television screens opposite the elevator doors. Two giant bookshelves were packed to capacity on the east wall. To the right was the kitchen, a pristine place of tile and stainless steel, and the hallway to the left led to the bedrooms, a game room, and a few other luxury chambers. It ensured that Hiroaki was never more than five minutes away from personally being present at any part of his casino, while also allowing him and his family to reside in a place completely isolated from the casino.
"Your father's down on the third floor, some sort of food spillage near the slots and nobody was dealing with it," Natsuko said, tucking a bit of her blonde hair behind her ear. "I just had a feeling that new slot manager wasn't going to work out."
"Yeah, it's called nepotism. I know all about it first hand," Takeru said.
"Don't even say that," his mother chided, sitting down on the couch and putting her feet up on the opposite side. "You're great around here. If it wasn't for you helping with running the casino, I'm convinced your father would have had a heart attack by now. Surprised he hasn't anyway, really."
"That just makes me feel worse, I'm gonna mostly disappear for two months in like three weeks, what if I come back and he's in a hospital bed?" Takeru began slowly walking towards the hallway to his left.
"Oh, he'll be fine," she said, laying back, head on one of the armrests of the couch. "He knows you're chasing your dream. But believe me, these last two years, you've shown that you're the perfect person to inheirit this place one day. You're about the only person your father trusts!"
"Thank you!" Takeru said, disappearing down the hall. "Good night!"
He walked down a thin green carpet, past a few pairs of doors, until he got to one marked by a large yellow diamond. He twisted the golden doorknob and pushed into his bedroom, a large chamber decorated by posters with charts, paragraphs of text, and a few pictures. The four-poster bed was in the far left corner, with four large screens on the wall opposite it.
Immediately, he crossed the room, going past the bed, over to spot on the wall devoid of any posters, right between a chart depicting an estimated point value for every starting hand in Holdem and a glamour shot of Vincent Wilson sitting at a poker table during the 2013 Main Event. He gave the right end of the blank section of wall a couple of pounds with his fist, and a rectangular portion slowly retracted inward.
The piece of wall slid downward after pulling in, revealing a titanium panel with a numerical keypad and a fingerprint scanner along the surface. He pressed his right hand's thumb into the scanner while his left hand rapidly hit the buttons on the keypad. It took about twelve seconds to enter the full code, signified by a small beep. He pulled his hands away, letting the panel pop out slightly.
Takeru grabbed it, pulling it outwards, revealing a long steel tray with stacks of money. The tray pulled out about three feet before stopping, only the front foot or so actually holding money. Takeru shrugged the bag off his shoulder, unzipping it to reveal the eight packs, and began placing them back into the tray.
"Alright, that's nine hundred..." Takeru said under his breath, talking to himself as his hands ran over the piles of money. "Nine hundred seventy..." he picked up one of the stacks, squeezing his together between his fingers, looking at the thickness. "Two. Nine hundred seventy-two."
He stood over his impressive holding of money, eyebrows furrowed in thought.
"Thirty-three thousand...sixty-seven thousand, one hundred nine and a half, one hundred thirty-nine and a half, two hundred thirty six," he muttered. "Good shape, good shape. Three-quarters of a million behind...just live at one hundred two hundred for three weeks, keep it safe."
He slid the tray back into the wall, a whirring click signifying the locking mechanism kicking in. Quickly following that was the wall panel sliding back up, then forward, becoming flush with the rest of the wall, only the tiniest of gaps in the paint indicating there was anything of note about that particular wall section.
Takeru shrugged off his suit jacket, going over to the closet right by the wall of screens and opening the sliding doors. "Call the Angel Suite," he said, voice booming as he clearly enunciated. He hung his jacket up on a hangar, a series of little blips popping off from an array of speakers built into the walls.
"Good evening, sir," a female voice sounded from all directions around Takeru.
"Evening." He began to unbutton his waistcoat. "How's...Ashley booked tonight?"
"Let me check."
Takeru hung his waistcoat up, leaving him in just his white undershirt. He kicked his shoes off as well, using the toe of the opposite foot to get the heel of each shoe off.
"She's open from ten to eleven. Booked through the rest of the night."
"Alright." Takeru stepped out of the closet, looking up at the wall clock to the left of the closet entrance. "Send her up at ten, I'll get her back in plenty of time. Anything I should know about?"
"Nothing bad, sir. We had a whale in this afternoon, said he wants to book Ren once a week every week for the next six months."
"Music to my ears," Takeru replied. "Thank you, that's all."
He made his way over to the bed, flipping onto it, placing his head on the pillow at the top.
"2009 Main Event, Barry Lewis. Main screen," he announced. A few moments later, the largest of the screens on the wall opposite him sprang to life, depicting footage of a poker table in the middle of a hand.
"Barry Lewis looks like he's going to play this hand." A bald man with a beard was shown looking at his two cards. "He's got jack ten of clubs, under the gun plus one."
"One of the best drawing hands in poker, but Barry is in early position here, so it's tough. You could just limp in, but then it's easy for someone down the line to raise, maybe even as a squeeze play, and then it's really hard to know where you're at, and you'll be out of position, so unless you flop two pair or better it's tough. So some people raise to indicate strength, get lesser hands to fold and discourage squeezes with bad hands. But then if you get three-bet, you kind of have to fold."
The man threw out three white chips. "Standard raise, bumping it to three hundred. Coleman folds, Suzuki folds..."