Chapter 606: The Reverse Indicator Strikes Back
Dreams were beautiful... until reality hit.
When Ethan scanned the gambling equipment with his Soul Energy, his excitement drained in an instant.
"What a load of crap..." he muttered under his breath.
Every table, every machine, every piece of equipment in the casino had been specially manufactured. Even his Soul Energy couldn’t pierce through them to see what was inside.
Of course. This was a Zane family casino. They weren’t fools—they’d have anticipated Soul Energy users and built in protections.
"Screw it... I’ll just play casually. I’m here to gather information anyway."
His enthusiasm thoroughly dampened, Ethan picked a random table and dropped into a seat.
---
Amber adjusted her hair in the mirror, changed into athletic wear, and stepped out of her bedroom in the presidential suite. She made her way toward the section of the ship where the Ethereal battle pods were kept.
The moment she left, a crew member slipped into the corridor behind her, keeping a discreet distance.
---
Meanwhile, the old man in the other presidential suite was no longer alone. Shortly after Quinn departed, a young man entered the room.
There was nothing remarkable about him—his appearance was the kind that disappeared into a crowd without anyone ever noticing.
"Boss Shaw..." The old man’s tone was warm, almost reverent.
If Ethan had been present, he would have recognized him instantly. This was "LongerThanLuffy" from Ethereal—real name Emery Shaw.
Ethan had faced him once in Ember City, then again on the outskirts, before Celeste intervened and pulled him out. Shaw was the rubber man, the one whose limbs could stretch like bands of steel.
Back then, Shaw had worn a straw hat, a tank top, shorts, and flip-flops. Now he was dressed like an entirely different person—sharp business suit, clean shave, not a trace of his former sloppiness.
"Mr. Kane, there’s no need for formalities," Shaw said with a polite smile. "I’m only catching a ride to Sacred Sea Island and thought I’d pay my respects. I should also apologize—taking that little girl off your ship the other day didn’t cause you any trouble, did it?"
"Boss Shaw, please," Kane said quickly, his own smile equally polished. "If not for your pilgrimage site, this route wouldn’t be nearly as profitable. We’re all here to make money. As for that little girl... it was nothing."
The two men spoke like foxes circling each other, their words dripping with courtesy and empty flattery, neither revealing a single honest thought.
After some pleasant but meaningless conversation, Shaw excused himself, claiming other matters to attend to. Kane didn’t try to stop him and personally walked him to the door. His mind was still turning over what Quinn had said earlier—he wasn’t about to discuss that with outsiders around.
The little girl Shaw had mentioned was Kiara.
---
Back in the casino, Ethan was on the verge of collapse. In less than thirty minutes he had gone from a towering stack of 222,000 chips down to just four lonely tokens—barely 2,000 left.
Behind him, a crowd had gathered. They were cheering, laughing, shouting with every round. Ethan had unintentionally become the table’s mascot for misfortune, the perfect reverse indicator in the dice game. Whatever he bet big on, everyone else bet the opposite. For half an hour straight, he hadn’t won a single round, while everyone else walked away richer.
His face was sour with disbelief. How could anyone be this unlucky? Not a single win...
"Come on, buddy, place your bet already!" a greasy-faced fat man snapped, clutching his own stack of chips and glaring at Ethan impatiently.
"If you want to bet, then bet. Why the hell do you care what I do?" Ethan shot back, his voice edged with irritation.
"Buddy, don’t be like that. How do I know where to put my money if you don’t go first?" the fat man said with a grin that made Ethan want to punch him.
"That’s right, cutie, hurry up and bet!" several women chimed in from across the table, their voices teasing, eyes glittering with mischief. "Big sis wants to bet the opposite."
"...."
"Handsome, here’s a tip for you..."
Out of nowhere, a wrinkled old woman shoved a chip into Ethan’s shirt.
The casino’s minimum chip was five hundred dollars. Ethan froze in shock, staring at her.
"Don’t just stand there, place your bet!" The old woman’s face was so caked with makeup it looked like it might peel off in chunks.
The dealer, a pretty young woman, glanced at Ethan sympathetically.
"Handsome, I’d advise you to stop playing. Save some money before—"
She stopped abruptly as the crowd immediately shouted her down, pointing and jeering until she fell silent. Still, she cast Ethan a look filled with pity.
Ethan’s eyes flicked to the table. Big or small?
"Screw it, I’m betting the middle!"
He had just noticed the small area reserved for triples. Without hesitation, he slammed his five chips onto it.
The crowd went still. Triples. It meant no one could shadow his bets anymore—whether they chose big or small, it was all on their own luck now.
"Tch... how are we supposed to play like this?" the greasy fat man grumbled. He had once been the table’s unlucky charm, until Ethan had arrived to take the role off his hands. Now that his luck was back, he wasn’t about to risk it. He quickly scooped up his chips and stalked off.
Others wavered, uncertain, though a few still tossed chips onto big or small. The old woman went with big, while the sultry beauty who had called Ethan "cutie" earlier bet small.
"No more bets," the dealer called, pressing a button.
The dice cup rattled. The crowd leaned forward, holding its collective breath.
"Open it! Open it!"
The cup lifted. Six ones.
The entire table froze.
Ethan blinked at the dice, then pointed. "So... is that small?"
The dealer stared at him, then laughed softly. "That’s triples. You win."
With quick hands she raked the chips together and pushed the entire pile toward him.
"I won? I actually won?" Ethan shot to his feet, his face lit up with shock and joy.
"Come on, let’s keep going!" Without even counting, he shoved the entire pile forward again, straight onto triples.
The crowd muttered nervously.
"I don’t believe it’ll hit again. I’m betting small!"
This time, more people joined in.
The dice rattled. Six twos. Triples again.
The next round. Six threes. Triples.
Round after round, Ethan’s mountain of chips grew higher while the faces around him grew darker. His laughter filled the air as everyone else groaned in disbelief.
By the time he finally paused to catch his breath, the pile in front of him was staggering. Even with a rough count, he guessed it had to be seven or eight hundred thousand.
"I’m betting..." Ethan pushed all of it forward again, still smiling like a man possessed. "Triples."