The Merciful Reaper

The chrome door of *"Red Rattlesnake Casino"* slid open to a wall of cigarette smoke and synth-hop. Dunce wrinkled his nose, the neon glare of Las Vegas-style slot machines reflecting in his darkening eyes. 

Beside him, Girln Shi scoffed. "Look at them, brother," he muttered in low, gravelly tones. "Skin like synthpaste, eyes swollen from stim-tabs. How did this nation conquer empires? One whiff of invasion and these gamblers would trade their children for casino chips."

"Damn right," Girln Li spat, jerking his chin toward a scuffed chrome doorway where a glowstrip pulsed crimson – the universal symbol for corruption. "No wonder they call it 'Shadow Vegas'. Only the pit bosses and mob bosses get fat here. Rest end up like Watana here... sucked dry."

Watana flinched, rubbing his threadbare jacket sleeve. "The casinos... they're predators. But the Gospel Bank holds the city debt! They're Covenant-backed, protected by the Holy Regulators–"

"The *Holy Regulators*?" Girln Li barked a laugh. "If they bless parasites like you, they're either blind or crooked!"

Watana's face flushed scarlet, lips moving in silent prayer to the chrome cross dangling at his neck. *Forgive these heathens, O Radiant Algorithm...*

Dunce gripped Watana's shoulder. "Where's the Covenant Credit Union? I'll clear your debt."

Girln Shi pulled him aside. "Not with union credits, kid. Debt racked up in *that* pit?" He nodded toward the neon abyss. "Should be repaid with *their* blood money."

----

**Red Rattlesnake Casino – Roulette Floor**

The roulette pit stank of ozone and despair. Girln Shi dropped two platinum chips stamped with the *KeanuCorp* logo onto Number 13. "All on the single."

The croupier's grin turned predatory. *Another deadbeat hero*. He spun the wheel, fingers flickering near his belt comm – the signal for the *"Ferret"* hiding beneath the table to activate electromagnets at 12 and 14. 

Dunce's hood shadowed his face. Under his synth-leather gloves, bio-ionic tendrils snaked unseen into the floor grid. *This tech is sloppy... like pre-Collapse salvage.* The Ferret's crude magnets were child's play against the quantum-precise energy fields he'd mastered. The ball *clicked* home into 13. 

"**Winner! 13 Black!**" The croupier's face whitened. 

Pandemonium. Watana whooped like the addict he was.

Girln Shi dumped *thirty thousand KeanuCreds* onto 36. "Again."

The pit boss – a bloated cyborg called Chubbs – materialized, eyes like scanner lenses. "You've had your fun, street rats. Cash out and crawl back to your favela."

Girln Shi smiled cold. "Spin the wheel, chrome-gut."

When the ball defied four mag-locks to land perfectly on 36, Chubbs's jowls quivered. **"RED ALERT! HOUSE CLOSED!"** Steel shutters slammed. Combat drones peeled from the walls, stun batons humming.

**"Trespassers! You violate Covenant turf!"** Boar screeched.

"Oh?" Girln Li's mono-molecular axe *thrummed* to life, pressed against Chubbs's triple chins. "See this? It slices through SynthSteel. How fast you think it cuts greasy pork?"

"800K credits!" Boar babbled, wrist terminal spitting out a black crypto-chip. "All I got! Just–"

Laser sights erupted from the vents. Black-armored Peacekeeper troops stormed in, led by a silver-haired man in the insignia-laden uniform of the City Guard. 

**"Keanural Ma Rui!"** Boar sobbed. "Contractors attacked us!"

The Keanural eyed Girln Shi's axe, then Dunce's bio-static cloak – proof of Academy training. His voice turned to ice. **"Who licensed your violence?"**

Dunce stepped forward, hood falling back to reveal eyes crackling with controlled fusion. He kicked the roulette wheel – revealing the trembling Ferret tangled in jumper cables. 

"**Ask your dealer,**" Dunce said, power humming in his throat, **"why their rigged game deserved burning to ash.**"