SWNOVELXO Chapter 23: Gambling With Rats
After leaving what was likely the state's most wanted criminal group's secret base, we had quite a stroll through the dark corners of the criminal underworld.
If not for the terrible atmosphere between us and a thief getting zapped by a black lightning bolt at every corner, it might have been at least a little romantic.
Ravenna, however, seemed very hesitant to talk. She lead the entire way with a fake smile, saying "It's nothing" or "Let's keep moving", and I'm not dense enough not to know something's bothering this girl.
The question is how to get close without being too invasive. Let's be clear: we've never been close. In fact, counting that one time in prison, I've only met Ravenna twice, which on its own is more than most of my usual flings.
"I think you must be very tired, aren't you?" she says.
"Hard not to be after so many adventures..."
"Hahahaha! Indeed, it still impresses me that you're alive, Darius."
Seriously, that smile full of pain actually hurts my heart. Hah. How much more of this do I have to tolerate? Oh, screw it.
I grab her hand and intertwine our fingers, taking the lead instead of just following her aimlessly. It actually takes the madam's breath away a bit, which is good. I was dying to at least surprise you after suffering so much at your hands.
I mean, I'm probably thinking with my lower head, right? Look at me, walking around with a crazy witch just because I'm thinking about what favor can demand, deplorable.
Anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's just have a good walk and enjoy the time. Being used and discarded by someone probably isn't the best feeling in the world, and considering she didn't do that to me, I can be sure there's at least some respect or affection for me... I hope.
We walk on like a pair of enamored dark angels. Definitely better than spinning through the air and flinging lightning in the open sky. There's not much to say about the Scorn, it's that typical creepy environment the protagonist eventually ends up in.
For some reason, I feel somewhat at home walking around here. I can guarantee it's much better than the palaces, where everyone was always talking behind my back and even the servants liked to annoy me with the smallest possible issues. It gives a really good sense of freedom.
But, like any good place, it has its downsides. Every other step, there's a different group of thugs trying to grope my crotch or my empty pockets, while the people on the sidelines don't even care what's happening on the main strip.
In fact, they're more engrossed in betting on tiny rats fighting with miniature weapons... Oh, I've got an idea.
"You have any money?"
"Huh? A few silver coins, why?"
"Wanna to make some quick cash?"
I flash a smile and nod towards the rat fight in the corner. She looks back at me as if immediately understanding the plan. I approach the table full of shabby gentlemen and sit among them, slapping a small pile of coins onto the table.
"I'm betting everything on that one!"
I point to the most messed-up rat possible: missing a leg, one eye, tail all chewed up and so old it'd be mistaken for a corpse if it weren't moving.
"You're going to lose everything, kid!" A seasoned bookie takes my money and adds it to a larger pile.
"I'm feeling lucky today, old man."
Ravenna leans in behind me. I feel her fingers subtly moving through the air, a discreet gesture that looks like she's cheering someone on. But there's one thing this girl is really good at: magic. I wish I knew some of it myself, since she's going to help me cheat right here.
"Good luck, kid," the old bookie says, laughing with half his teeth missing. "You're going to lose to Rattatouille."
Rattatouille was our opponent. Too muscular for a rat, with scars on its snout and a makeshift needle blade tied to its tail. The character I chose, on the other hand, should have retired so long ago that it would be considered elder abuse for it to still be fighting.
The judge raises a tin bell, and the rats are released from their cages into a miniature metallic coliseum.
At first, Rattatouille enters the arena full of confidence, snapping its sharp tail. But suddenly, it slips. Literally slips on its own stride. The old rat, with its years of experience and having killed hundreds of thousands of its kind, seized the chance, guided by a divine instinct for battle, lands a bite right on the opponent's hind leg.
"Huh?" One of the gamblers lifts his head. "That's not like Rattatouille."
The big rat tries to get up and stumbles again. The old rat, seemingly oblivious to any chance of victory, now mounts the enemy's back and starts biting with absurd fury. It's like watching a grandfather with Alzheimer's suddenly remembering he was a fighter in World War II.
"It's impossible... That rat's possessed!"
With a final attack on Rattatouille's good eye, the old opponent wins. The crowd of drunken criminals and weed addicts suddenly quiets down, and the judge rings the bell.
"Victory for Grumpy!"
The mountain of coins is pushed my way, so many I can't even count properly. Ravenna rests her chin on my shoulder and whispers:
"You're really wicked."
I know, little witch, daddy's good at taking candy from babies.
I take the opportunity to fill my pockets until they hit the floor and tear, my lips twisted so unnaturally anyone would think I'm some kind of monster. Don't be like that, my dear fellow gamblers!
It was completely fair, you can be sure. I get up from the chair, but a hand stops me from standing fully. Being a sore loser is bad for your health, you know, old timer?
"Where do you think you're going, kid? Sit back down, let's bet again."
"What? I'm not in the mood. I got what I wanted and I'm out of here, fuck you guys."
"Come on, boss! Did you know most gamblers quit before hitting gold? Just one more!"
Ah, now I get it. They want to rob me, the bastards. I'll admit I was expecting something like this, but at least pretending would have earned them some points. I look up, feigning thought, but the answer is already so clear in my head it's hard to keep Ravenna waiting.
I point behind me and widen my eyes. "What's that?! An... an Inquisitor?!"
"What? Where?!"
All the thugs simultaneously turn, only to see a guy scratching his butt around the corner. The distraction is enough for me to kick that bastard in the face and grab Ravenna's hand. She lets out a yelp of surprise as I pull her aside.
"He's getting away, after him!"
One by one, the rat gamblers throw their benches back and chase after us.
"Hey, don't you want me to get rid of them?" the witch asks, keeping pace without much trouble. "It's just a spell..."
"No, that would ruin the fun."
I put my hand in my heavy, coin-filled pockets as we turn into an alley, entering another, even more crowded street in the Scorn. Time to start some chaos in this place!
The new street looks like a dragon's stomach with dysentery: noisy, boiling, about to vomit a sea of insanity at any moment. There are vendors yelling, cockfights right on the sidewalk, pickpockets bumping into each other, and a cross-dressing dwarf selling baldness cream.
A typical day in the Scorn and perfect for my plan.
I hold Ravenna's hand with childish excitement, and she looks at me sideways with that smile that says, "I should kill you now, but you're too much fun." I climb onto one of the stacked boxes of rotten fruit, raise my arms, and pull up my torn pockets.
"WHO WANTS MONEY?!"
All eyes turn to me. From the beggar to the assassin, from the old drug dealer to the goat-man with three knives strapped to his leg. The tension becomes so solid I can hear a fly's wings beating.
"COME AND GET IT!!!"
And I throw everything into the air. The silver coins spin like blessed rain from very, very irresponsible gods of luck.
What happens next cannot be described in ordinary words. It's as if a hundred hungry chickens had been let loose in a locked barn with a bag of corn in the middle.
The cross-dressing dwarf knocks out a thief with a sacred church manuscript. An old man attacks a teenager with a mousetrap. There are teeth, severed limbs, and an absurd combination of magical explosions, swords, and every imaginable thing in the underworld.
Ravenna laughs a genuine laugh for the first time in hours, enchanted by the pandemonium. And me? I stroll calmly, cutting a path through the mad crowd.
Of course, the rat gamblers are still after me, but now they have to get through fifty other thugs who also want my money. In less than two minutes, the street turns into a war zone, people fighting with fish, with chairs, with their children.
A chicken stand flies through the air. An old man tries to escape carrying a goat. Two men with fox masks arrive and immediately run off.
I seize the moment of chaos to pull Ravenna into the nearest alley, laughing like a lunatic. She follows without resistance, breathless, her eyes gleaming.
"You're insane."
"Lost count of how many times I've heard that, you know?"
She shakes her head, somewhere between amused and tired.
The sound of the brawl continues in the background like an orchestra of out-of-control vagrants, but for a moment, everything feels lighter, as if time is moving in slow motion.
Ravenna adjusts her hair, picks a coin that was stuck to my collar, and pockets it.
"Let's get out of here before the Scorn blacklists us."
"I thought we already were."
"Now it's official."
We leave laughing, while behind us, the entire underworld descends into confusion, screams, and plenty of bloody noses. A fitting end to an afternoon date.