Slot Machines (before battle)

The casino felt hectic, abuzz with sounds spilling from every corner of the floor.

Numerous slot machines blared nonstop with overly cheerful jingles,

and the lights were so blinding that some of the Sinners had to shield their eyes.

The security guards, noticing our garish outfits, gave us a routine nod.

Saude and Effie - disguised as croupiers - subtly acknowledged us as they escorted Rodya toward the casino cage for chips.

I was impressed by how convincingly they played the part; their postures and expressions were nothing short of flawless. Anyone would assume they'd been working here for years.

Wha… What manner of sorcery are these dazzling contraptions?

Try not to go saucer-eyed at everything you see in here, Don Quixote. You're gonna make us look suspicious.

The patrons here've all got eyes like those of a dead fish. And they smell just like one, too... Hell, the Tingtang schmucks smelled better than them! Do they ever wash up...?

I don't think they'd appreciate you pinching your nose right in front of them, Ishmael...

Still. This bilgy stink - I've only smelled it on deckhands on a ship.

It was indeed a stroke of luck that most of the guests were too absorbed in the machines to notice us.

Manager Esquire! Hast thou ever witnessed such a wondrous thing?

What must I do to hear the jolly bells as the other patrons do?

<I wouldn't know... I don't think I've ever been to one of these places before.>

The tempting spin of the flashy symbols and numbers slowly eroded my resolve to act the part of a stern manager.

<I-I suppose one look wouldn't hurt...>

Here! It sayeth "hit the button!" Shall I proceed?

I swear upon my minute and hour hands that I had no intention of pressing that button - none at all.

As I swiftly lunged to stop Don Quixote, however, I slipped - and much to my dismay, slammed my hand right onto the button.

<Yikes!>

And by some series of unlikely events, this fateful slot machine happened to be one that someone had left a coin inside, enough for just one spin.

The reels whirred to life with a merry, noisy jingle...

... and all we could do was helplessly watch.

I hope Dante is being careful with those wish stickers we took from the Tingtang Gang.

That manager, you mean? That was the only favor we asked. They'd better be handling it properly.

Relax, you can count on Dante~ They're one of the few people in the team with a sensible head on their shoulders.

That's good to hear. With that many sheets of stickers attached, they should be able to win any game easily.

We just need to be careful and avoid attracting attention.

JAAACKPOT!

The gambler who was sitting right next to me stared with mouth agape, jaw dropping so far down that I swear their chin was about to touch the floor...

... while a torrent of casino chips poured out from the machine - far too many to even think about collecting.

Effie, Saude... I'm so, so sorry...

I walked in here determined to do something right... then immediately dropped the ball.

A jackpot? Which machine?

Wha - now? Just like that?

One moment, please.

May I see your ID?

What's your problem? Is it a crime to win a jackpot at a casino?

Chance in this place does not function the way we think it usually does. One may accumulate luck for a large payout or trickle in small amounts to break even, but winning the jackpot on the first try at a machine is clearly an impossibility.

Chips are raining down upon us like shooting stars!

So much for being the responsible one. Can't believe you caved to Don Quixote of all people.

I expected more from you, Manager. Thought someone in your position would at least be able to help snag us this much-needed win - which, I might add, would've been pretty nice after that humiliating failure of a first mission.

The torrent of biting, reprimanding whispers spilling from Ishmael's lips left even Gregor murmuring in astonishment.

I had never seen Ishmael give anyone else that piercing glare she was shooting at me...

… and it made me want to crawl under a rock, if there even was one.

For once, I was grateful that my clock head came with no eyes.

... Hang on. I don't think that's the sole issue here...

Struck by the sudden development, Gregor, who had been anxiously scanning his surroundings, came to a halt and pointed toward the startling discovery he had just made.

And where he pointed...

How long have you been out of disguise, Ryōshū?

... was a completely nonchalant Ryōshū, wearing our company uniform.

I don't put on castoffs from others.

*sigh* Manager Bud, looks like we're...

<Yup… Looks like we're screwed. Royally…>

This can't be happening... After everything we did to set this plan in motion...

Faust, what were you thinking, volunteering to drag these idiots along on your mission? You're supposed to be one of the most brilliant geniuses in the City - so act like it!

Though I have not worked with them for long, I was able to arrive at one conclusion:

I ought to become a Faust that believes in uncertainty.

When the lack of a plan becomes the plan, all variables become constants.

That is the "plan" as I have understood it.

……

*sigh*

Faust turned to me with a tranquil face.

Thanks to her, I finally understood what my role was meant to be.

<Alright… It's time for our usual gig…>

<Kill... and be killed.>