Gunpowder Plate Armor and the Magic Revolution

Nozer subtly nudged Graham beside him with his elbow and gestured towards the corner with his eyes.

Graham followed his gaze, raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes, and nodded slightly.

"Alright, you don't need to serve me here."

Graham casually tossed another copper coin to the waiter, waved his hand, and said, "This table is full, you know what I mean?"

"Alright! You three have a great time! I promise no one will bother you!"

The waiter pocketed the tip, happily withdrew, and gently closed the door to the private room behind him.

Graham gestured to Nozer and Sophie to follow him, and they all went to sit down on the sofa against the wall in the private room.

This position offers a clear view of the entire private room without being too conspicuous, making it the safest observation spot.

After Sophie sat down, she pulled her hood down a little, keeping her hands in the hidden pockets of her cloak, her fingertips resting on the grip of her revolver.

Graham leaned back on the sofa, watching Monet play cards. He patted Nozer on the shoulder and pointed to an empty gaming table. "Hey, wanna go for a game?"

Noze paused, turned to look at him, and lowered his voice, "Lieutenant Colonel? Aren't we here to see Commander Monet?"

"What's the rush?"

Graham raised an eyebrow, his tone nonchalant. "Didn't you see how much fun this group of people are having? Monet has won so much, and the guy across from him is all red in the face from losing. You don't believe me? Look..."

Following Graham's gaze, Nozer saw that the pot-bellied man sitting opposite Monet was indeed red with anger, and the money in front of him was pitifully little compared to Monet's.

A little girl, about thirteen or fourteen years old, was standing next to him, serving him tea and water, lighting his cigarettes, and pouring him drinks.

"If you dare to call Monet away now, he'll flip the table and who knows what kind of trouble he'll cause..."

As he spoke, he added with a smile, "Don't worry, go up there and play as much as you want. If you lose, it's all on me; if you win, every penny is yours."

"But I don't know how to play, is that okay?"

Noze had heard of baccarat and blackjack, but he really didn't know much about this "Primeiro".

"What's so hard about playing this? Each person gets four cards, dealt in two rounds, and at the end, the players compare their hand rankings. Whoever has the higher hand wins."

"Four of a kind wins a flush, a flush wins a solid suit A67 plus any single card, this is called 'Supremus', Supremus wins a mixed suit, and a mixed suit wins a high card."

Graham quickly explained the rules of the game, "You don't need to worry about anything else. Just sit next to that guy, and no matter what he does, you raise the bet, and the bet must be at least half of what he has left."

Why...?

Before Norze could finish his question, the dealer had already announced the opening of the game.

The man, in a somewhat frenzied manner, threw his cards on the table and roared.

"Flush! I got a flush! Damn it, after losing all night, I finally won one!"

As he spoke, he made a gesture as if to sweep all the money on the gambling table toward himself with his arm.

"Old Jim, don't be in such a hurry, I haven't even revealed the cards yet."

Monet calmly spoke, tossing down his cards, "Sorry, four 2s, you lost."

Jim's ecstatic expression froze instantly. Before the manic smile could fade, it was shattered by the four cards Monet casually tossed out.

He stared intently at the four different 2s on the table, his eyes wide like saucers, the veins on his forehead throbbing, as if he were about to faint from a sudden surge of anger.

His hand, which had been reaching out to grab chips, froze in mid-air. He felt as if all the bones in his body had been removed, and with a thud, he slumped back into his chair.

The silence lasted only two seconds before Jim abruptly turned his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the little girl holding a wine glass beside him.

The pent-up anger and despair found an outlet in an instant. He stood up abruptly, swung his arm, and delivered a solid slap to the little girl's face.

A sharp "snap" rang out, particularly jarring in the quiet private room.

"You jinx! You bad luck!"

Jim cursed wildly, spitting all over the little girl's face, his tone full of venom, "How could your dead mother have given birth to such a jinx! You've driven away all my luck, you slut! If you weren't still so young, I would have sold you to a brothel long ago, so you wouldn't be here causing me trouble!"

The little girl stumbled from the slap, the wine glass in her hand fell to the ground, shards of glass scattering everywhere, and the wine soaked her skirt.

She instinctively covered her burning cheeks, her small body trembling like a withered leaf in the wind, but she dared not make a sound, and even her tears were held back in her eyes.

Clearly, such beatings and scoldings were already commonplace for her.

"Tsk tsk tsk..."

A faint sneer came from across the room. Monet, holding a bottle of whiskey, slowly took a sip. A hint of coldness crept into his unfocused gaze. He glanced at old Jim and said sarcastically, "You can't win money yourself, so you take it out on a kid. You've lived most of your life, and this is all you've got?"

Old Jim was already blinded by defeat, and these words provoked him so much that he instantly flew into a rage, turned sharply to glare at Monet, and hurled insults back at him with spittle flying.

"It's none of your business how I discipline my own daughter! She's my daughter, I can hit her, scold her, and do whatever I want with her! You won my money and you still dare to meddle in my affairs? You're tired of living, aren't you?"

As he spoke, he kicked the chair next to him viciously, the wooden chair scraping against the floor with a screeching sound, as if he were about to fight.

However, the dealer quickly stopped them, because causing trouble at the Blackwater Casino would not only result in being beaten, but would also get you blacklisted by all the major casinos in the city, making it impossible for you to gamble.

For this kind of person, being beaten is secondary; being unable to gamble in a casino is the most unacceptable thing.

"...See? If you really want to help that poor little girl escape her misery and, incidentally, make some money off her to teach her a lesson, then do as I say."

"If I did that, the guy would definitely think I had ulterior motives and probably wouldn't fall for it. You're different; you look like someone who's never been to a casino before, so he won't suspect anything."

Noze glanced at the little girl, then at Sophie who was looking at him with pleading eyes. His kind nature ultimately prevailed, and he agreed without hesitation.

"Don't worry, leave it to me."

Nozer stood up, stuffed the small bag of silver shields that Graham had pushed over into his pocket, strode to the gambling table, pulled out the empty chair next to old Jim's, and sat down.