My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 60

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“Must I not go in?”
“There will be many important occasions ahead, so you’ll need at least one proper outfit. Let’s all have something tailored while we’re here.”
Arkel, whose eyes had been lifeless, finally nodded. Once Balanus became famous, wearing clothes like these would become second nature.
In truth, that was merely an excuse. The real desire was stronger—to give each of my disciples a fine set of clothes. Even now, I wanted to gift them something better than rags.
I led my disciples into the Tailor Shop. I approached a staff member and gestured toward the children.
“Please recommend outfits that would suit each of them well. Multiple pieces are fine.”
Since I was going to see Bella, I wanted to dress them beautifully and smartly. After fifteen years, I couldn’t show up looking like a beggar.
“Would something like this suit you?”
At my request, the staff member eagerly brought out clothes. Many of them looked quite good.
Part of me wanted to have them try on each piece, but I held back—I didn’t want to delay the reunion any longer.
I went into the Changing Room and emerged into the Waiting Room dressed in formal attire. Was this how reassuring knee-length trousers could feel?
“Ugh, this is suffocating. I’ve hated these things since I was a kid.”
Cesare stepped inside, loosening his Cravat as he spoke. His face was full of complaint.
The Frock Coat, which nobles typically wore, did seem rather tight and confining.
Even in shoes rather than boots, he appeared uncomfortable—like a young colt wearing horseshoes for the first time.
Still, it suited him well. Dressed like that, he had real presence.
While Cesare grumbled, Jenia looked delighted. She twirled lightly once.
“I’ve never worn anything like this. I look like a princess.”
The blue-toned Silk Dress fluttered around her. It was an enormous flower-bud of a dress, layer upon layer of sheer chiffon.
“Yes, you do look like a princess.”
I wished I’d bought them more clothes like this before I died. They all looked so good in them.
Both of them wore the clothes well, but the person they suited best was Arkel.
The Tailcoat with its long swallow-tail seemed to have found its true owner.
His expression, however, was dark. Probably from hearing the price earlier. I tapped Arkel’s shoulder.
“It suits you perfectly. Even Bella would be pleased to see you like this.”
“Then I’m relieved.”
“Come here, all of you. Let me adjust your appearance.”
I straightened my disciples’ collars and hair ornaments. At this point, they could attend a noble’s party without any embarrassment.
With a mixture of pride and nervousness, we headed toward the Gambling House. The guards who had turned us away before now let us pass.
As we passed through the ivory doors of Eterno and entered, the first things to strike my senses were the scent of expensive tobacco and the electric excitement of the crowd.
A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling. The light glinted golden in the eager eyes of the patrons.
The sounds of chips and dice being thrown onto heavy tables, of cards being shuffled, filled the air.
“Wow, gambling houses like this exist? This is completely different from the place we went to before.”
Cesare looked around with curiosity, taking in the sight of people sipping premium champagne.
I surveyed my surroundings but saw no sign of Bella. I approached a passing staff member.
“I’d like to meet the House Master, Bella.”
At my words, the staff member scrutinized me for a moment. Then his expression grew troubled.
“Only guests with an Emblem may attend the games the House Master presides over. Do you have one?”
So that’s what he’d been looking for. I shook my head.
“I don’t, but how does one obtain an Emblem?”
“We issue them based on the number of visits and the size of bets placed. At minimum, you must visit ten times and sit in a game wagering ten billion Batz.”
Ten visits, and ten billion.
Meeting my disciple was proving harder than I’d expected. It seemed easier when I’d infiltrated the Frost Prison.
Arkel, listening from beside me, fell into thought.
“Money is one thing, but I’m uncomfortable with the idea of sitting in a ten-billion-Batz game. Cesare, do you have any talent for gambling?”
“Does it look like it?”
“I was foolish to ask.”
Neither I nor my disciples had any real connection to gambling.
I surveyed the interior of the Gambling House. I noticed several people wearing the same design of Brooch.
An ornate Brooch made of gold and jewels. That must be the Emblem for guests.
As I was studying the people, a man caught my eye. When I fixed my gaze on one table, Jenia approached me.
“Master, do you see that man wearing the Brooch?”
“No. I’m looking at the man next to him.”
The man sitting beside the guest with the Emblem. His clothes were presentable, but something about him felt off.
Looking closer, I detected a subtle wrongness in his hand movements. Even the sound of him shuffling cards sounded slightly different.
“That man sitting next to him—I believe he’s a Fraud Gambler.”
It was common for cheaters to slip into gambling games. Cesare narrowed his eyes as he looked.
“Now that you mention it, he does seem like it…. But why would there be a Fraud Gambler here?”
“I’m wondering why he’d sit at that particular table.”
“Pardon? Is it really necessary?”
Cesare’s eyes went wide at my words. Only Arkel nodded in agreement.
“It seems you’re quite skilled at gambling, Master. Challenging a fraud gambler to a game, no less.”
“No, I can’t play. I’ve barely gambled at all in my life.”
Between wielding a sword, running the Domus, and raising children, I had no time for gambling. At most, I knew the basic rules.
“As expected, you don’t engage in such vulgar pursuits. But then why do you wish to sit at that table?”
“Even if I can’t gamble, I know how to intimidate.”
I’d spent a long time secretly observing the fraud gambler. At first, I only sensed something off about his hand movements, but now I could distinguish the pattern.
When dealing cards, his left pinky moved unusually fast. And there was a distinct timing to when the man with the emblem received particularly good hands.
I gave my disciples a few instructions, then went to exchange chips. One chip was worth a million Batz.
I’d brought some money when we stopped at the Tailor Shop earlier. Hundred million Batz. A fortune to me, though probably pocket change here.
I felt my disciples’ eyes on me as I took an empty seat. The other players glanced at me, then relaxed their guard.
A twenty-year-old kid—they all thought I was easy prey. Which, in a sense, was true. I don’t know how to gamble.
The dealer smiled slightly.
“The minimum bet is ten million Batz. Will you play?”
“Yes, I will.”
The game began. The dealer dealt cards, and four landed in my hand. A game where hand ranks were determined by the combination of suits and numbers.
It wasn’t a particularly good hand. Meanwhile, the voices of those checking their cards and placing bets grew louder.
“I’m raising the bet double.”
“I’m going all-in!”
When crossing swords, I can usually read my opponent’s intent fairly well, but gambling tables are another matter. I folded my cards.
“I fold this round.”
Ten million Batz gone. I received the next hand.
“I fold again.”
Another ten million Batz vanished.
“I fold.”
Thirty million Batz disappeared into thin air. The one sweeping up the money was the man with the emblem.
“You’re running quite hot tonight. Lucky hand, aren’t you?”
He kept receiving strong hands. But it had nothing to do with luck.
The fraud gambler sitting beside him was helping him. He switched cards in an instant, subtly directing people as he went.
“Next hand.”
The dealer dealt again. This time, I had a fairly good hand. Third from the top, perhaps? That’s when the man with the emblem pushed his chips forward.
“All-in!”
I stared at the pile of chips. It was beyond what I could reasonably call. I folded.
“Oh, looks like the initiation fee is a bit steep for a newcomer.”
I’d probably lost about fifty million. I didn’t need to turn around to feel my disciples’ scorching gaze burning into my back.
Hold on just a little longer, Arkel.
The next hand was dealt. I looked down and found the second-best hand possible.
Second-best was enough. I covered my cards briefly, then picked them up again—as if I were hesitating.
“I’m going all-in.”
I pushed all my chips forward. The expressions around the table changed. Jenia rushed over behind me.
“Master, are you really sure about this?”
“Yes, it’s fine.”
Even as I spoke with Jenia, I kept my eyes on the fraud gambler. That’s when I felt his hand gesture shift.
Bang!
I caught the emblem-wearing man’s right hand in mid-motion. As I pressed down hard, he let out a cry of pain.
“What—what are you doing—!”
“Don’t they say your wrist gets cut off if you’re caught cheating?”
I’d checked earlier: cheating meant forfeiting the pot and losing a hand. The table stirred as the man tried to hide his panic.
“You think your wrist stays attached when you make accusations without proof?”
“There should be extra cards in your coat pocket.”
I’d watched the fraud gambler hide the cards earlier. I glanced toward the dealer, and her face hardened as she approached.
Meanwhile, the fraud gambler’s expression remained eerily composed. He must have already disposed of them.
The air above the table turned cold. It felt as though a dagger had pierced my chest. But I wasn’t worried. My senses were faster than anyone’s eyes.
“There are cards in the pocket—!”
The dealer pulled cards from the pocket. Only then did the fraud gambler’s face go ashen. His expression screamed impossibility.
Of course it would be impossible—until Jenia placed them back there.
I gripped the man’s hand tighter and spoke.
“Dealer, fetch me the hammer.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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