Sometimes, going all-in is an art, but it's also a risk.
For Ronan, though, going all-in only had one outcome—victory.
When the bearded brute finally couldn't hold back and decided to go all-in against Ronan, Ronan couldn't help but smile.
That's right—this was the moment he'd been waiting for.
For a sorcerer, losing to ordinary folks in a petty trick like this would mean Ronan had no business being in the game.
Ronan didn't pay him much mind, instead turning his gaze to the others.
"How about you guys? Wanna join the fun?"
But Ronan's little "trick" was seen through by them one by one, and they all tossed their cards aside.
They all wanted to see Ronan eat crow, and they were also in cahoots with the bearded brute.
Against an outsider, they had to band together to take Ronan down.
"Alright, since none of you are in, it's just us then."
"Let's reveal our hands."
Ronan shrugged and casually tossed out his cards.
A 2 of hearts and a 5 of hearts.
The moment those two cards hit the table, the bearded brute burst into loud laughter.
"Kid, with a hand like that, you dare go all-in against me?"
With that, the bearded brute flipped his cards—two Kings staring back boldly.
That hand was the biggest possible short of a pair of Aces; otherwise, he wouldn't have dared match Ronan's all-in.
"I was playing cards when you were still swimming in your daddy's dunk!"
The bearded brute was clearly brimming with confidence—with a hand like that, unless he ran into the slim odds of a flush or straight flush, his win was all but guaranteed.
Never mind four of a kind—that was even less likely.
Ronan just smiled and lightly tapped the table toward the dealer.
"Deal."
That was all he said.
But in everyone else's eyes, Ronan's demeanor screamed desperation.
The dealer pursed his lips and started drawing cards from the deck.
What followed left everyone waiting for a laugh completely dumbfounded.
3…
4…
7…
The three flop cards were all hearts, no exceptions, and with each one revealed, the onlookers couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath.
By the time the third card flipped, the bearded brute's composure had shattered.
Because with those five cards, Ronan had already made a flush—bigger than his pair of Kings.
His only hope now was that the next two cards would both be Kings!
Or at least one King and one of the three already revealed flop cards.
After all, a full house beats a flush.
"Now I'm wondering—who's the one who should be feeling despair?"
Ronan grinned at the bearded brute, asking with an almost friendly tone.
The odds of the next two cards both being Kings were practically astronomical.
Oh, wait—for Ronan, even climbing the heavens wasn't that hard.
"Cut the crap—keep dealing!"
The bearded brute swallowed hard, glaring fiercely at Ronan.
Men are like that—they can lose anything but their pride.
Ronan shrugged and signaled the dealer to proceed.
The turn card came, and this one could decide the bearded brute's fate!
King!
When the top card of the deck flipped, someone couldn't help but gasp aloud!
The King the bearded brute had been praying for had arrived!
That meant his odds of winning were starting to tip in his favor.
"Keep going! Deal!"
The bearded brute roared, not even noticing how nervously he was swallowing.
But Ronan raised a hand to pause.
"How about we spice things up—anyone interested in betting on who wins this hand?"
"I've got a slight edge on the board, so I'm willing to offer 1-to-2 odds to anyone who wants in."
With that, Ronan grinned and pulled a stack of cash from his pocket.
All old bills, twenties each—by eyeballing it, there were at least a hundred or more.
That's 2000 bucks.
Ronan had done the math—their combined cash was about 1000 bucks, and his 2000 would more than cover it.
Of course, Ronan wasn't here to lose.
He was about to teach these guys a lesson!
Hearing Ronan's offer, the others at the table exchanged glances.
The board did favor Ronan right now—after all, the bearded brute's only shot was a 3, 4, 7, or King.
Any other card, and Ronan would win.
But 1-to-2 odds? That was tempting.
The white guy to Ronan's left rubbed his ring, then subtly glanced at the dealer.
The dealer, taking advantage of Ronan "not looking," brushed his own ringed finger.
Instantly, they understood each other.
"I'm in—200 bucks!"
Right then, the white guy to Ronan's left, as if unable to resist the lure, threw in 200 bucks' worth of chips.
With him taking the lead, the other two seemed to catch on—no more hesitation, they tossed all their table money in too.
Tallied up, they'd put in 650 bucks total.
Ronan nodded, then turned his gaze to the bearded brute.
"How about you? Believe in your luck?"
Ronan grinned at him.
At that moment, Ronan was like a devil tempting mortals into damnation, his voice dripping with seduction.
The bearded brute took a deep breath, glancing at the others—each saw a familiar glint in the others' eyes.
This was a trick they often used to fleece outsiders.
Their earlier plan had been to con Ronan, the fat sheep—even those previous hands had been an act.
"I'll raise 200 bucks!"
The brute bellowed, pulling out every last dime from his pocket.
After scraping it together, it came to just 198 bucks.
"Eh, close enough—let's call it 200."
Ronan shrugged and signaled the dealer to keep going.
The dealer nodded, hesitating over the final card—the most critical one for everyone!
The card slowly flipped—a red 6 came into view for all to see.
"What the f***?"
"Holy shit!"
A chorus of curses erupted across the second floor.
That 6 of hearts not only completed Ronan's straight flush but also personally shredded the bearded brute's comeback dream.
"Impossible! How could it be a 6 of hearts? Shouldn't it…"
But before the bearded brute could finish, he realized something was off.
He stopped mid-sentence, staring blankly at the card on the table.
The other three were stunned too—they hadn't expected the final card to be a 6 of hearts.
They all turned their eyes to the dealer—this wasn't what they'd agreed on!
By now, the dealer's face had gone pale.
The card he'd drawn was supposed to be the last King!
How'd it turn into a 6 of hearts?
No, wait—he cheated!
The dealer's gaze shot to Ronan, but he quickly dismissed the thought.
From start to finish, Ronan hadn't even touched the cards—how could he cheat?
Unless Ronan had telekinesis and swapped the card under everyone's noses.
That, he didn't believe.
This whole second floor had dozens of eyes watching!
It was impossible!
But perhaps this dealer hadn't heard a certain saying.
When you've ruled out all possibilities, the one that remains—no matter how impossible—is the truth.
"Oh?"
"Looks like Lady Luck's on my side today."
"Sorry about that—straight flush, just a tad bigger than yours."
With that, Ronan, under four—no, five—murderous glares, coolly swept all the chips and cash to his side.
"Oh, almost forgot about my other Lady Luck."
Suddenly, as if remembering something, Ronan pulled out five ten-buck chips and tossed them to the dealer.
After tossing them, he even winked at the dealer.
Like they had some secret deal.
The others all turned their eyes back to the dealer.
They even started wondering if the dealer had teamed up with Ronan to screw them over.
Looking at the money on the table, the dealer's face flushed with awkwardness.
Taking it felt wrong, but not taking it felt wrong too.
They'd planned to team up and fleece the outsider, but now it looked like she'd teamed up with the outsider to fleece her own crew?
The bearded brute was livid—he slammed the table and shot to his feet.
He glared at Ronan like his fist would land on Ronan's face any second.
Too bad Ronan didn't even flinch.
"You're out of chips—still wanna keep going?"
Ronan kept that same grin, completely ignoring the brute's glare.
The bearded brute took a deep breath—you could tell he was fighting to keep his rage in check.
"Fine, kid, chalk it up to your luck."
"Let's see how many times that luck can hold!"
With that, he slammed the table again and called over a waiter.
He whispered a couple of words in the waiter's ear, and the waiter gave him a troubled look.
But the brute didn't care—he "grabbed" a stack of chips from the waiter's hands.
This time, it was 500 bucks' worth!
Seeing this, Ronan couldn't help but laugh.
"Alright, since you've got chips, let's keep it going."
Over the next hour, Ronan didn't resort to all-ins anymore—he played by the regular rules.
But even so, he didn't lose a single hand.
That's right—not one loss.
Big cards or small, Ronan followed; whatever you bet, he matched.
In that hour, the second floor of the bar rang with constant gasps and exclamations.
Either Ronan started with a monster hand, or he'd have trash cards but somehow turn it around on the flop, snatching victory from defeat.
And the pile of chips by his side kept growing.
Whether they swapped decks every two hands, every hand, or even when the pale-faced dealer got replaced twice.
Ronan had one word.
Win!
Every hand, a total wipeout!
The white guy to Ronan's left was pale, slumping back in his chair, muttering to himself in a daze.
The other two weren't much better—they'd lost even more than him.
The only one at the table still in the fight was the bearded brute.
On his table, he had one last shot.
This hand, his hole cards were a pair of Aces, while Ronan had the smallest pair—two 2s.
The first three flop cards included an Ace, with the other two unrelated.
As long as one of the next two wasn't a 2, or if one was an Ace, he'd win!
So, his eyes locked onto those last two cards—his hope for a comeback.
Ronan glanced at the brute's chips and casually tossed in a hundred bucks' worth.
"Looks like you're about to win—here, I'll sponsor you a little more."
Seeing Ronan's smug attitude, the bearded brute nearly ground his teeth to dust.
But what could he do? The guy kept winning!
"I'll call!"
The brute gritted his teeth—he had no choice but to follow.
Ronan smiled and signaled the dealer to flip.
2…
When that 2 flipped, the familiar sound of gasps echoed again.
Sure, the brute's three Aces beat Ronan's three 2s for now, but what if the last card was… another 2?
"Deal it."
Ronan gave the dealer another nod.
But before he could finish, the bearded brute shot up again.
"Both of us—have someone grab our hands, no moving!"
"I think you're cheating!"
The brute glared at Ronan, sticking out his own hands.
Ronan laughed.
He stretched out his hands, placing them in front of the two guys next to him.
Cheating?
Sorry, he didn't need hands.
With Ronan's hands held, the brute had nothing left to say.
As everyone held their breath, the dealer, under immense pressure, flipped the final card.
2…
When that last 2 appeared before everyone, the second floor of the bar exploded!
They couldn't believe Ronan had flipped the game with the final card!
How was this any different from a movie?
No, maybe it was different from a movie—movies were fake, but this was real.
Ronan had kept his hands in plain sight the whole time, even "tying" them for the last card—and he still turned it around!
What the hell was this?
Was Lady Luck his personal fanboy?
Winning like that—how was this not Lady Luck fawning over him?
At that moment, the bearded brute collapsed back into his chair, soul-crushed—he'd just lost another 500 bucks.
That was the third 500 he'd borrowed in this hour.
In just over an hour, he'd blown a full 2000 bucks!
For a small-town guy, that was a fortune!
Especially for an American with no savings habit—this was enough to bankrupt him!
As Ronan grinned and collected his winnings, a voice rang out.
"Outsider, you've won enough—call it quits."
"Using magic to play cards isn't exactly fair to the others."
Hearing that voice and feeling the ripple of mystical energy behind him, a brilliant smile spread across Ronan's face.
The main player he'd waited all night for—the reason for his trip—had finally shown up!