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maidflowery · 19 hours ago

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Fortified Wager ♣♣♣ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 7

♦︎♦︎ Aventurine x Reader ♦︎♦︎ 𝕀𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ６】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

Violet-Cyan Cadenza

POV: Aventurine

╔══ ⬥⬦⟣⟐⟢⬦⬥ ══╗

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll forfeit this game!”

“But why? Didn't you say you'd show me the ropes? Is this all you've got? Just when things were starting to get fun...”

Aventurine had a lot on his mind that day.

“—You damned Avgin! Let's see if you can still smile when I charge you with scamming the IPC and have you shot on the spot!”

So, even when his own secretary, Duane, cursed him to death—proving that the invitation to this get-together party with colleagues was just a sham—he remained pensive, saying whatever came to mind.

By that time, Aventurine had learned the extent of his underlings' insubordination. Most of them were long-time employees who had been vying for his position. And yes, he had memorized all their faces.

He’d only been promoted to a senior manager of the Strategic Investment Department recently, so they must’ve seen it as an opportunity. They probably saw him as a pompous brat, ignorant of the ways of the world and surviving solely through luck. Although, the part where he happily signed the legal contract that’d give his position to Duane if he lost was entirely on him.

However, it turned out that Aventurine’d severely underestimated that secretary of his.

Not only was Duane punctual, dedicated and meticulous, he was also detail-oriented and thorough. If only he had applied those traits to his actual job, he might have solved world hunger by now! What a damn shame!

Instead, Duane scheduled the execution date two weeks in advance, brought his own audience, reserved a seat in a secluded spot, paid the dealer, and even prepared his own decks!

Aventurine wouldn’t be surprised if the walls surrounding them were to collapse at any moment, revealing the nightclub itself to be cardboard boxes exclusively designed by Duane as part of his scheme!

...What a bunch of dunces.

Did they not realize that this position had been granted to him by Diamond himself? Trying to usurp it was essentially the same as opposing the Ten Stonehearts. Regardless of how this game played out, he would still be the ultimate victor.

“There’s no harm in giving up, you know.”

“Sometimes you just have to accept defeat.”

However, looking at the current situation, he was most likely going to lose. In this match, anyway. The cards he was dealt stank worse than roadkill.

His luck merely improved a once measly chance drastically; it couldn’t multiply something that had a 0% chance of happening.

As he stared at his cards, Duane and his lackeys grinned from ear to ear—a stark contrast to when they first introduced themselves.

“You’re our new senior manager, aren’t you? My name is Duane Stoyanova! I’ll be your secretary from today onward. If there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask me! I’ll show you the ropes!”

“Mr. Aventurine, how are you holding up? They just threw you right into the middle of things, so it must be rough!"

“Seeing that you've been working hard lately, we thought of arranging party for you, Mr. Aventurine!"

...Eh, not that he cared all that much, honestly. He'd even throw the game just to give them the fleeting satisfaction of victory.

What's sweeter than letting the enemy believe they've won, only to pull the rug out from under their feet?

But then...

“—SHOW THEM!! SHOW THEM WHAT YOU GOT!! DON��T LOSE!!”

An ardent, tenacious scream pierced through the false encouragement, sarcastic compliments, provoking taunts, and mocking ridicules—reaching all the way to him.

Aventurine instinctively turned around, spotting a girl amidst the crowd beside him.

After screaming that at the top of her lungs, a crimson hue spread rapidly across her face, reaching even her ears. Then, she ran away while holding her vibrant-colored drink.

‘Aww, how cute, she thinks I’m going to lose,’ was his initial thought.

If only she knew he was blessed with extreme luck by the goddess of his clan.

Then again, if she did, would she cheer on him so wholeheartedly?

Aventurine adjusted his posture, sitting upright, resting his leg on top of the other.

“W-what’s with him?”

One of Duane’s lackeys pointed out, noticing his shift in attitude.

“What are you trying to do now...?” Duane asked warily.

Oh, so NOW you are scared?

No, Duane probably was the whole time. Otherwise, why would he go to such lengths to ensure his opponent had zero chance of making a comeback?

At the same time, this was probably Duane’s only real shot at becoming a senior manager, knowing that Aventurine would never turn down this kind of challenge.

As an aficionado of games of chance, Aventurine truly admired his spirit.

Unfortunately, your biggest mistake is insisting that there’s no outcome possible other than your victory.

The possibility of winning or losing always existed, no matter what, because such was the nature of uncertainty. Wouldn’t it be the job of a superior to teach that to their dear subordinates?

Thus, Aventurine shrugged and replied blithely, “You heard her. I can’t afford to lose after that?”

“Huh?! I-it’s useless... Even if you try—...” Duane was turning paler.

“Yeah, but I feel like winning today.”

Knowing that he’d never lose, Aventurine seldom played seriously.

But that day, he gave it his all, fully intending to win.

✦✦⟡✦✦

Ever since then, Aventurine always wondered how his first proper meeting with you would unfold.

That was, if it ever happened at all, with fate interfering with every single one of his attempts. Which sounded dramatic, as if the whole world was going against him. When in reality, he stopped after the third try.

The first time was at the bar right after defeating Duane. Too bad, his co-workers got in the way somewhat.

The second was a week later, when he treated everyone to free meals. But when he looked for you, you were nowhere to be found.

The third was when he realized you acted as if the first never happened and deliberately avoided him during the second.

By that point, it had become clear that you were avoiding him.

Makes sense, he thought. About half a month had passed since then—enough time for you to figure out who you cheered for that night: an Avgin and a former slave, to boot. Wherever he went, his reputation always presided him.

Hence, he thought—it can’t be helped.

Then, he stopped thinking about you altogether.

⟡⟡✦⟡⟡

Yet, without fail, you showed up every week. You watched him play all night long, seemingly having come to terms with simply gazing at him from afar.

Understandable, really.

Aside from those who openly denounced him, treating him like a stain on earth, even noble bloods and big shots sometimes didn’t know what to do with him and chose to avoid him altogether. “Too much of a wild card,” they said. Let alone you, an ordinary person.

Of course, some were simply fascinated by what they saw and chose to observe from a safe distance, turning a blind eye to everything else. That seemed to be the case with most inhabitants of this town. And to be frank, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The only reason he remained there, despite having conquered Penacony, was due to an unfinished business. Namely, Duane’s fuckups. After that man got demoted, the responsibility fell into his lap. So, who was the real victor here? It even made him doubt his luck for a second.

Either way, once his business in this rural town was concluded—preferably as soon as possible—he’d be gone with the wind.

Still, watching you sit on the edge of your seat all night, cheering him on—seeing you become the happiest person in the room when he won, jumping around...

...Alright, maybe he’d visit from time to time. His role as the popular gambler in town was starting to grow on him. So why not turn this place into a recreational spot for those occasional breaks from work?

A town where no one knew of the little slave worth sixty red copper coins.

A place where he could be someone other than the bearer of Aventurine of Stratagems, one of the Ten Stonehearts.

The undefeated gambler of the rural town, surrounded by his own audience, including you.

For a short time, he entertained such an idea.

But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

✦✦⟡✦✦

His side project was finally yielding results. However, progress was slow and didn't reflect the blood, sweat, and tears he had invested.

Duane, oh, Duane. How can you still give me a massive headache when you’re on a planet seven light-years away?

“—You! That custom-made suit is way more expensive than mine! What’s an Avgin like you doing in something like that?!”

Standing in front of him was Billy Burnett, the local loan shark and one of his targets. The flashy, rotund man with a bald head had walked into the trap himself. Of course, at the moment, he didn’t realize it yet.

...And, as expected of Duane’s cohorts, Billy was quite vocal about his aversion toward Aventurine’s kin.

“Mr. Billy, isn’t it? I appreciate your eagerness in challenging me to a match—”

“—Cut the crap! I heard that you’ve been treating Duane real nice! I’m here to settle the score—wait... Is that... the legendary Cygnus Emerald?!”

Billy’s nostrils flared as his beady eyes were transfixed on the gem on Aventurine’s chest. As he spoke, his breathing was getting rougher and rougher.

“My eyes are up here. And yes, it is the Cygnus Emerald.” Aventurine gave him a smile.

Aventurine had noted that Billy had an eye for quality. They were similar in that they were both attracted to and appreciated nice things. Personally, there was just something irresistible about the luster of certain jewels, and he couldn’t help but get his hands on them.

They could never be friends, though. Aventurine wouldn’t stoop to prying a jewel from a dying man’s hand or ruining an entire family like the man before him. And, unlike Duane, he had no interest in funding an old man’s lifestyle.

Billy likely didn’t want to either, especially since Aventurine had cut off one of his main sources of income. Besides offering high-interest, predatory loans and refinancing debts—you know, the usual—Billy could also be paid to harass a specific individual or a family.

“I-I challenge you! If I win, that emerald is mine!” Billy was a slobbering mess as he proposed this.

Should you really be making it THIS easy for me?

Now, Billy seemed genuinely eager to challenge him to a match instead of just beating him to a bloody mess. Originally, he’d planned to entice the old man with unimaginable wealth, anyway.

Then, violet-cyan eyes narrowed as their owner grinned.

“Fine. I’ll consider it.”

“W-what?! What’s that supposed to mean?!" Billy looked absolutely dumbfounded.

“It means exactly that. I have a long line of opponents waiting to challenge me. So, see you next month, or maybe next year.”

“But what about my emerald?!”

“Let’s hope it’s still available next time.”

Seeing Billy gnashing his teeth and clenching his fist, Aventurine’s smirk deepened.

Baring your desire to an enemy like that...

“How much do you want?! I’ll pay you, so face me!”

Then, came such a cliché line. One might be tempted to ask, ‘doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of gambling?’

Well, it was because bad people weren’t necessarily stupid.

Even with all the wealth Billy had accumulated, including the one he gained from exploiting the massive policy change in this rural town, it still wouldn't be enough to afford the Cygnus Emerald. Billy must’ve known this was his one real chance to claim it.

...This single-minded desperation—didn't it remind him of someone he knew all too well? Although this one was blinded by greed.

“Oh, I don’t need your money. But I do need something else from you. Think of it as an entrance fee, if you like.”

“What is it?! Out with it!!”

“Tell me everything you know about Duane Stoyanova’s involvement in Project LAZU-R17: E from a few years back.”

“Deal!”

The greedy pig didn’t even miss a beat. He threw Duane under the bus while painting himself as a saint. Of course, Aventurine recorded the whole thing.

Well, there you go, Duane.

Undoubtedly, Duane told Billy of Aventurine’s most recent treatment of him, hoping the latter would avenge him.

This is why you don’t invest in an overly greedy piece.

“Alright, then. I challenge you to a game of poker.”

Even though Aventurine had gotten what he came for, he still fulfilled his end of the bargain, purely for formality's sake.

What followed was the most mind-numbing, soul-crushing, life-draining, and joy-sapping poker match known to man.

Billy had his lackeys prepare a substantial amount of money before wagering a measly sum every round, hoping to cheat the Goddess of Fortune and win the emerald through sheer luck and nearly infinite attempts.

Does he think I’m a toy vending machine that will drop the ultimate prize once he pulls enough?

Aventurine wondered how much more he could endure. Several times, he had been tempted to hand Billy a death sentence on the spot instead of having him arrested and tried later.

...Right, he’d be a dead man after this. Just a bit more.

Those words were his only salvation amidst the crushing boredom.

He also cheered himself up. With Billy Burnett gone, the leverage on victims of the incident from a few years back would disappear. Things should be slightly easier after this.

Essentially, he was controlling an existing fire, preventing it from spreading and going out of control—an especially tall order when all sides were out for their own. Not that he could blame them; he was only doing this to avoid catching fire himself. Once again, courtesy of Duane for making this his problem!

Now, all he had to do was preserve the thin, delicate wick while gradually snuffing out the fire until it was completely extinguished.

So far, everything was going smoothly, exactly as he had predicted.

But then, a third person showed up at their table.

⟡⟡✦⟡⟡

“Good evening, esteemed guests. We've noticed how long you've been with us, and as you mentioned, the night is getting dull! So, I was sent to hopefully stave off some of your boredom! It’s a pleasure to serve you tonight!”

Did you finally muster up the courage to talk to me? Even going as far as to pretend to be a waiter?

For a brief moment, Aventurine entertained the thought. After all, it was simply too amusing.

He’d known all along—the yearning looks you’d been sending his way all night couldn’t have been more obvious. He was merely ignoring them.

Also, yes, “pretend to be a waiter.”

Aventurine had set Primavera as a neutral ground for this ongoing side project. So, naturally, he’d memorized all the staff and you clearly weren’t among them. At the same time, he knew how tight-lipped and secretive the staff were. It was highly unlikely they would simply hand over their signature uniform for you to cosplay in.

What is happening here?

Aventurine swiftly racked his brain, trying to figure out the situation.

After a grueling battle that lasted over a month, he’d like to think that he’d somewhat won over the reserved staff members. Well, calling it a “ceasefire” would probably be more appropriate. Regardless, the staff members must’ve understood the significance of this meeting, as they could be considered victims themselves.

If an additional cast were to join the meeting, the staff should have notified him beforehand...

...Unless there was a breach of trust somewhere.

His multicolored eyes scanned the lively crowd dancing at the venue before stopping at a specific spot.

A dapper youth with dark blue hair stood near the DJ set, exuding solemn dignity. He was none other than the manager of this place, Marius. The stoic and highly-cynical youth was the reason why Aventurine had to put up with that tedious battle that lasted over a month in the first place.

Did Marius deem him untrustworthy in the end, preferring to aid the enemy instead?

Yet, Aventurine noticed that the dark-haired youth was staring at his table with an uncharacteristically tense expression. Did Marius not expect this as well?

Aventurine also knew that Primavera had many branches across the world. After the stunt he had pulled, it wouldn’t be surprising if the parent company sent someone to this rural town to monitor the situation. Given that the CEO of Primavera had been pestering him more frequently lately, the possibility was quite high. If that were the case, not even Marius, who was merely a manager, would have any say in this.

It would also explain why you kept an eye on him, even after he switched to a weekly schedule—or your newfound courage and surprising charisma, along with your magic talent.

When all these coincidences overlapped, they pointed to one answer—one plausible explanation.

“This one is dedicated to you, Mr. Big Ba—ahem, Mr. Billy Burnett. We always appreciate how sharply-dressed you are. So fiery, you stand out wherever you are.”

“Hoho! Astute judgment! Did you know? This shirt alone cost more than all the wages of the staff here combined!”

“—I can only think of one flower to symbolize you. Would you like to guess what is it?”

“Ahaha! I don’t care about some grasses, so you tell me!”

“Of course, Sir! It’s right within my hand! ...Oh, no.”

“Huh—?! Where did they go—?! Are you trying to make a fool of me—?!”

“Of course not, Sir! The flower is just shying away because of the man you are!”

As he watched you perform your magic show, displaying your expertise and deftness, he grew more convinced of it.

Honestly, if that were the extent of it, he would have turned a blind eye to the whole thing.

“How did it get there?! Especially when you never took out my wallet!”

But then you slipped a wallet and a phone into Billy Burnett’s pocket. Above all, they turned out to be that man’s belongings all along.

Now, Aventurine would understand if you held a grudge against Billy and decided to pickpocket him. But to return them? That single action gave rise to unending questions.

Were you Billy’s spy? Was this whole thing a sham? Did Billy purposely challenge him as a distraction while placing you elsewhere to gather information? Had you just returned from fulfilling your task? ...How much did you figure out?

The possibilities were endless, yet they all led to a single path: doom. In a war, the side with the most information won.

Your magic performance for Billy was coming to an end.

“That was so amazing! I like you! Your name is Ashpuddle, right?! Can we—”

“—What about me?”

To buy more time to decide how best to deal with you, Aventurine spoke.

“—Last but not least!”

“Oh?”

As expected, you came prepared and threw a little magic show for him.

“To your beautiful eyes, Aventurine.”

“...!”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit thrilled, especially when you gave him the handcrafted bouquet.

Then, as the curtains truly dropped on your magic performance, Aventurine saw Billy leering at you, licking and smacking his lips. Was it out of perverted desire, or was Billy simply eager to reap the fruits of your labor?

He still couldn’t determine which was the truth.

Either way, if his suspicions were correct, once you and Billy stepped out of this place, it would be all over for everyone. God knows what the two of you had in store out there.

Knowing the chain of events he would set in motion if he let the enemy outmaneuver him, could he really afford to take that gamble?

In that case—

“—Leaving so soon?”

Aventurine reached for you, pulling you into his arms.

“Huh...?”

“It’s amazing, what you did with the phone and the wallet.”

He just had to keep his enemy closer.

✦✦⟡✦✦

Okay, maybe not this close—but Aventurine couldn’t help himself.

Seeing how nervous you were reminded him of a frightened rabbit being forced to sit on a human’s lap. While it was cute and all, he was more curious about the source of your fear. Given that you’d been literally captured by the enemy, it would make sense if you were afraid of him, but it seemed you were just as afraid of Billy.

“What’s this? Mr. Aventurine can’t keep his hands off her, too? I get it! Such an interesting woman she is!”

Without missing a beat, Billy butted in, thinking they were on the same boat. Aventurine could feel you stiffen in his arms.

“Yes, I’m quite taken by her.”

Various thoughts formed in his mind, but they were merely conjectures.

“Kehehe! Of course, of course... So, after you are done with her... Can I...?”

Living up to his name, the pig, who constantly indulged in debauchery despite having a family at home, made a display of his wanton desire.

“No.”

Then, seeing how flustered you were, Aventurine threw in a small trick question.

“...Or would you rather go to him instead?”

Everything would be much easier if you had caved and chosen to go to Billy. Once he knew whose side you were on, he’d have no qualms about crushing you both.

Hence, he hoped that you wouldn’t.

When you softly shook your head and clung to him, his lips curved into a smile.

“Good answer.”

Now, the only task remaining was to wring every bit of information out of this little spy.

⟡⟡✦⟡⟡

Saying he didn’t expect you to be a spy would be a lie. He’d even say he saw it coming.

Aventurine had considerable experience with women who were spies, as well as with those who turned out to be spies.

However, whether you were, say, an ace in your field, was another matter entirely.

Of course, the thought of seducing you to his side had crossed his mind. But then he realized he had his work cut out for him.

“Ms. Aschenputtel?”

The moment he called your alias, you turned around in a hurry, rushing to meet his gaze, only to falter a second later. Heat bloomed across your cheeks like fire.

Apparently, despite your false name, position, role, identity, and persona, your feelings for him were genuine.

“...W-w-what is, it?” you asked, stumbling over your words.

He struggled to contain his amusement. Then again, even this could be an act. So, he tried to test the water, but eventually stopped, for both your sake. He couldn’t exactly extract information from a fainted person, could he?

Aah, seriously... What kind of spies are they sending my way these days?

Surely, his huge achievement in reclaiming Penacony should raise his threat level quite a bit? He’d expected a spy who could easily double as an assassin, but sending someone who couldn’t keep a poker face and spilled her cards all over the table? Now, that was a unique approach.

Well, it was certainly innovative. One couldn’t spill information if they couldn’t speak properly—or were unconscious.

At the same time, it almost made him wish that you were his opponent instead. But rather than poker, he’d invite you to a game of rummy. He’d drag it out as long as possible, giving you the illusion that he was about to take the joker, only to switch at the last minute. Merely imagining the kind of expression you’d make tickled him.

Midway, Aventurine noticed you were nervously picking at your nails, to the point they were about to bleed. When he tried to put a stop to it, a small accident occurred.

Thus, you were right in front of him, dangerously close.

“I-I-I didn’t mean to...!”

Somehow, it was possible for you to turn redder than you already were.

“You didn’t mean to do what? Did you do something?”

“I—... no, it’s nothing.”

As you spoke, your lips shifted delicately before him.

When you tried to pull back, he moved forward, until only the slightest thread of reason stood between you.

He was aware of what he was doing, just as he knew he should be eliciting answers from these quivering lips, instead of sealing them with his playful banter—or his own.

“Haha! Don’t people usually apologize after they had done something?”

So instead, he leaned closer to your ear. Out of sight, out of mind.

“—So, Ms. Aschenputtel, do something to me first.”

Would he have preferred it if you had fallen for that?

✦✦⟡✦✦

Aventurine had always wondered how his first proper meeting with you would unfold.

And so far, everything was as he’d imagined.

The bashful you were unable to stare directly into his eyes, yet would sneak glances from time to time.

When spoken to directly, you'd become so flustered and blush furiously, making it impossible for him to resist teasing you even more.

When he pretended to be contemplating his hand, you’d watch anxiously, and when he placed it on the table, you’d watch with bated breath.

When he offered to treat you to delicious desserts, your eyes lit up instantly as you agreed without hesitation, throwing all caution to the wind.

“Then, what kind of desserts do you like? Any foods you avoid due to allergies?"

“I’ll go with whatever Ms. Aschen likes. Allergies? Eh. Sure, I have that, I guess. But I can't remember what food I'm allergic to. It’s nothing to worry about.”

He really couldn’t remember.

Faintly, he recalled the deeply worried look on his sister’s face, but that was it.

In the past, there was a time when he almost went without food and had to drink from puddles in the street. So, he couldn’t care less about food allergies—neither then nor now.

He’d survive it all, anyway.

Besides, to trigger an allergic reaction, he’d have to eat the food first. Meanwhile, wherever he went, he rarely touched the food, unless it was absolutely necessary, usually to put on a show.

“Then, may I bring your attention to our mini fruit tarts? We always make the cream from scratch and use the freshest fruits!”

What he didn’t expect was for you to explain the menu to him so thoughtfully and considerately. Or maybe, knowing you, it was to be expected.

“—Ah, but you can consume dairy, right?”

“Yep, no problem at all. This one sounds good, we can order it.”

“Let’s avoid nuts because you might be allergic to it.”

“Fine with me.”

“As for this red velvet cheesecake—...”

Hearing your well-put explanation made him consider requesting that you serve his table every time he visited and explain the dishes.

At the same time, he grew convinced—so maybe, you were the waiter of Primavera after all.

In that case...

“We haven’t ordered drinks yet.”

Just as you were about to place your order, he lightheartedly suggested.

Then, you made a surprising offer.

“Then, shall I recommend you our specialty? Lazuli Bells!”

...Well, well.

“May I know why?”

Aventurine asked while studying your expression.

A coincidence? Or a code of some sort?

Of course, after the series of ‘coincidences’ you’d introduced to the table, he found the former to be the most unlikely.

“...Do you not like flowery concoctions? If so—”

“Nah. I’m more interested in the reason why you recommended it in the first place.”

“B-because it’s my favorite drink...”

You predictably shrank under his gaze, growing more and more nervous. You were unlikely to lie in this state.

“...Interesting. Why do you like it?”

“Because the drink is really flavorful, refreshing, and not to mention, aromatic! Above all, the colors really did it for me! They are so pretty, just like Aventurine’s eyes!”

While he expected you to blurt out your honest thoughts, he hadn’t anticipated you’d respond without a second thought—and with that smile, too.

The remark was nothing new. Everyone he met had commented on his multicolored eyes at least once. If anything, the speed of your delivery, as if you’d rehearsed it multiple times, should’ve made him suspect you had prepared a script.

Yet, in an instant, a certain memory flashed across his mind, as vivid as if it were yesterday.

A memory of a certain drunken girl.

He quickly dismissed the thought, staring intently at you, who were dressed in a waiter uniform, with a black butterfly mask on your face.

“...Please ignore that. You heard nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“Of course. Did you say anything just now?”

So, he let you go. For the time being, anyway.

Besides, if he wanted to extort the truth from you, there was a much more reliable, if not surefire, way.

“Fine, I accept. Shall we place our order?”

Then, as you buried your face in the menu, Aventurine shot the Dealer a glance.

Sensing the implication behind his gaze, the Dealer grimaced; his golden eyes narrowing in guilt.

The ashen-haired man’s sense of righteousness must be kicking in. Aventurine expected nothing less from the Hero of Penacony—or rather, that was why he chose him as a sidekick.

With enemies hounding him from all sides, Aventurine wanted a piece that behaved exactly as he expected, precisely the way he wanted, based on what he knew they would or wouldn’t do.

Who could be more perfect for the role than the man who danced alongside him until the exact moment he plummeted into the Sea of Nihility?

Above all, not only was the man aware of the importance of this meeting, but he also possessed a great deal of reasoning ability.

A regular customer suddenly approached their table, dressed as a waiter. Then, she performed various magic tricks while returning Billy's belongings into his pocket. Coincidence? Ha! As if!

And the man, the Dealer, was aware of this too. Resolving himself, he gave Aventurine a faint nod and went straight to fetch the orders.

Then, Aventurine turned to you again.

As he teased you, he thought to himself.

Ms. Aschen, did you know?

Every time he entertained the mass as everyone’s favorite gambler, he had to go through a set of procedures to ensure that there was no foul play.

Including, but not limited to, drinking the Truth Serum.

The rules applied to everyone who sat on this particular table to this very day.

Now, since you’ve come to play with me, isn’t it only fair that you abide by the rules?

I’d assume that you’re well aware of this, since your manager was the one who came up with it.

So, if you want to blame anyone, blame him.

In exchange, he’d give you the whole truth—words devoid of any lies, just as he had been the entire time, from the beginning, after drinking the serum at the start of the game.

✦✦⟡✦✦

You weren’t lying when you said it was your favorite drink, alright.

The moment your order arrived, you didn’t hesitate to dig in. And, of course, you started with the drink. Whichever glass you picked didn’t matter—both were laced. He simply sent his sidekick to ensure the bartender followed through.

Then, without any hesitation, you sipped it using the readily available straw.

Seeing how defenseless and careless you were somewhat astonished him.

Ms. Aschen, shouldn’t you be more wary of food offered by a stranger?

After taking a sip, you remarked about how tasty and refreshing the drink was. To seamlessly blend the taste of flowers, berries, and Truth Serum... Once again, the one and only bartender of that place had showcased his talent.

As for the Truth Serum itself, the family that owned the Primavera had ties to the mafia, so procuring it shouldn’t be difficult, as evidenced by the fact that they always had something ready for him every week.

Of course, Aventurine had a surefire way to counter it: just don’t lie and omit the truth.

Due to his status, he could speak freely without worrying about any consequences. When it was something he had no business saying, he simply wouldn’t. Why put himself at a disadvantage?

—Anyway, the serum, extremely effective in interrogating spies and old enemies, simply made it impossible to tell a lie.

“...Did you especially choose this one so I’d lick your fingers clean?”

“!!”

Especially when that person was feeling flustered or panicked.

Like you are right now.

“Ms. Aschen, there’s cream on your cheek.”

“Eh? Where—...!!!!!!!!”

However, that wasn’t why he drew nearer and kissed your spotless cheek.

The sight of you eating with gusto, which he had only glimpsed a few times until today, was now right in front of him—so sweet, in fact, that he couldn’t resist taking a bite.

“Cough! Hack! Cough!”

But then, you suddenly broke into a coughing fit, and he instinctively pushed a glass of drink to you.

“Oh no... Here. Have a drink.”

At first, he thought nothing of it. He had tested it. He’d been drinking the Truth Serum for almost a month now, without any side effects. It couldn’t be tampered with either, as the Dealer was there to supervise the entire process. Or could this be the ‘allergy’ that you mentioned?

Just as he was about to pull back his hand holding the drink and call for an ambulance, you seemed to recover. Only then did he realize he’d been holding his breath.

Meanwhile, you gave the drink he offered an odd stare.

“Aventurine, that is your own glass.”

In turn, he looked down at his own hand, realizing that what you said was true.

One reason he was uneasy about the drink was due to the implications it carried.

Before going on a mission, he would usually research the local culture and history to aid his operation and coordinate his attire. That was how he learned about a certain local custom tied to this drink—the Lazurite Bells.

A pair of lovers would drink from each other’s cup to profess their undying love, weaving their destinies under the starry sky and the flowers that mirrored it. Basically, a marriage proposal.

Since you worked here and were likely a native, there was no way you wouldn’t know.

Hence, he was apprehensive about ordering it at first. He didn’t want to give the wrong signals. He had plenty of experience dealing with people who deliberately misinterpreted gestures or cues to suit their own convenience. Unless the need arose, he avoided engaging with such individuals, knowing it would only lead to more trouble down the road.

And yet, this ended up happening.

A coincidence that could only be called fate was brought about by his own hand.

Perhaps, if he were just an ordinary man, he’d have believed in destiny and even rejoiced at the turn of events.

Aventurine shook off the thought—it was neither here nor there.

“...Or so luck would have it.”

After a momentary silence, he uttered that. Unbeknownst to anyone, he was ridiculing his own luck.

You seemed to mull over his words, and it occurred to him belatedly that he could just play along. So, Aventurine took a sip out of your glass and grinned.

“There, we’re even now.”

True enough, this gesture sent you into deep thought as you stared at him, mesmerized.

No way, did she really misunderstand?

“—Hello? Earth to Ms. Aschen?”

“S-sorry... I was just thinking...”

“What were you thinking about?”

As he asked you, he narrowed his eyes, a slow, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was certain you wouldn't be able to look away, your gaze drawn to him.

Even the question itself was deliberately phrased to make you confess everything on your mind.

He expected you to fawn over his previous gesture, completely misunderstanding it, at which point he’d tell you outright: it meant nothing. But he was hoping he’d get lucky and you’d fess up about your entire ploy tonight.

Earlier, he’d pointed out why you weren’t the best spy. But as time passed, he noticed you fidgeting restlessly, increasingly preoccupied—no doubt, your own mission weighing on your mind.

You can let it all out, Ms. Aschen.

Don’t let them bother you anymore.

I promise that I’ll show you mercy.

He watched you closely, waiting for the moment your lips parted, offering him nothing but the truth.

“...The real ones look so much prettier.”

As you spoke of these words, your gaze briefly landed upon the drink and then his eyes. You stared with such intensity that, for a moment, he struggled to maintain eye contact.

A gaze that wasn’t probing or scrutinizing, but simply that of someone admiring something beautiful—so straightforward, he couldn’t even convince himself otherwise.

✦✦⟡✦✦

He wasn't in a rush to get answers from you, but he knew he was purposely taking his time.

But now, he couldn’t prolong it anymore—he mustn’t, lest he caved.

He might be a gambler, but he was also a businessman. He never bet on anything that yielded no returns, much less something that only resulted in losses.

Not even the unluckiest gambler, burdened with debts so vast that not even his entire generation could pay them off, gambled with the intention of losing—let alone a businessman.

Whenever he casted his bet, he set his sights on the target, risking it all for that one particular outcome. After all, it was only common sense.

Someone who blindly threw his chips in, convinced by his own fallacy that he’d eventually win big, was simply a gambling addict.

Someone who ran his business into the ground, without a firm footing and blinded by the illusion of something grand, was an undeniably shitty businessman.

These facts were so obvious to him, as clear as being asked the color of the sky.

And yet, a few times now, as he spent time with you, he found himself tempted to place his wager: to bet that it was all a coincidence, to bet that it was fate, to bet on believing in you.

A wager with almost guaranteed losses, followed by further setbacks.

And yet, despite his better judgment, his impulse threatened to take over.

Hence, this mustn’t go on.

“I haven’t tipped you for your incredible service tonight, have I?”

✦✦⟡✦✦

He had a repertoire of methods to extract answers, but since he was pressed for time and it wasn’t a priority, he had to choose the most effective and time-efficient approach—and finally, he settled on this one.

“This is just a little something.”

Thus, he gave his flawless sapphire collar pin to you.

Don’t be mistaken, he did intend to tip you. What he purposefully left out was that it was also an upfront payment.

While you were still wide-eyed and awestruck from just landing rich, he reached for the emerald on his chest. Cygnus Emerald.

“WOOOW!!!”

“OMG!!!”

As he placed it in your palm, the crowd erupted in cheers. To them, he must’ve appeared like a lovestruck fool, eager to part with his money just to please his lady.

“This is the most precious item on my person right now,” he added, sounding sincere.

In reality, it wasn’t. Throughout his life, he had only ever owned two precious items: a scrap of cloth, worth less than a thousandth of the gem, left by his late father, and another lost in the dunes. There would never be a third.

Hence, the keyword “on my person right now.”

“Wait—” “—WAIT A DAMN SECOND!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Sure enough, seeing the one and only thing he’d been coveting from the start falling into another’s hand, Billy blew a fuse. At the same time, Aventurine noticed a few people clad in leather jackets turning this way. They had been blending with the crowd until now.

Good grief. Looks like he never intended to let me go from the start...

Including those who openly served Billy, there were around thirty of them. He made a mental note of them and shot a glance to the Dealer, who nodded in understanding. Once again, having a sharp-witted sidekick was really handy.

“This isn’t what we agreed upon!! Why are you giving those precious stones to a goddamn waiter?!”

Amidst that, the conversation switched to the value of the gem.

“They are flawless gems! Especially that emerald! It’s Cygnus Emerald! It’s worth at least 170,000,000,000,000Credits!”

Since Aventurine was conditioned not to lie, he kindly added, “Not exactly. The mine has since closed down, so it's the rarest of the rare—probably worth five times that amount.”

Like fuel poured onto a fire, Billy's eyes blazed with greed. Meanwhile, you looked thunderstruck.

While maintaining a relaxed front, Aventurine wondered: what’s the big deal?

The emerald was undeniably captivating, and knowing he was one of the few in the world to own it fed his vanity. Yet, in the end, it was as worthless as anything else money could buy. Although it did serve its purpose, nonetheless.

“Haa...! See, this is why a slave like you is hopeless! You’re blind to its worth, which is why you gave it away to a rando! They are wasted on you!”

When Billy uttered those words, some in the vicinity—including you—became appalled. To you and everyone else, it probably seemed like things were heating up and that Billy was getting personal.

However, as surprising as it might sound, Billy was trying to be helpful, at least in that moment. Aventurine had seen his reproachful gaze and heard the admonishment in his tone.

Surely, even without drinking Truth Serum, that man would have said the same thing, in the same manner, thinking he was helping a lowly slave who lacked an eye for value.

This simple observation, made to pass the time, quickly slipped from his mind.

“Ave-Aventurine...”

“Hm?”

Suddenly, he heard your voice from beside him and turned around.

When he saw the look on your face, he became confused.

Why do you look so pale? What could be the problem?

Were you shaken by Billy’s offensive remark?

So, he asked in the friendliest tone he could muster, “What do you think of those gems? Do you like them?”

When you were still on his lap, he always did that to break the ice, and it worked. But this time, you never recovered.

“I-I think they’re pretty, but I don’t think I can accept them—”

If anything, as you answered with an unfocused gaze, you seemed to shrink more and more.

As he pondered why, it suddenly occurred to him.

...Ah, right.

Didn’t Billy let it slip that he was a slave? Since it was like a universal knowledge, he just assumed that everyone already knew. But could it be that you didn’t?

I see.

So, you didn’t know.

It didn’t matter either way.

“Haa...”

An almost inaudible, empty gasp leaked from his lips.

If anything, it only made sense. It certainly provided a simpler explanation for your behavior until recently. However, it didn’t explain your refusal of his gift, especially when you had been holding it so preciously—even now.

Unable to figure out why, he asked you, “Why? Because a slave gave them to you?”

Now that you knew, were you afraid that he might starve or something? Or did you start having reservations already?

Due to the nature of his job, he interacted with big shots and influential figures almost daily. During those exchanges, it was not uncommon for him to give gifts as a gesture of friendliness and politeness. However, upon learning about his past, some of those figures didn’t hesitate to throw it back in his face—both literally and metaphorically. To nobles like them, receiving a gift from a slave was an insult. No matter how precious the gift, the fact that it came from a slave tainted it.

As for you, working in such a high-profile establishment like Primavera, you had probably developed a refined taste.

Were you hesitant because they might be counterfeit? Did you suspect that he was playing you for a fool?

Regardless of what came after, his intention to give you that emerald and sapphire collar pin was sincere.

“Ms. Aschenputtel, I may be worth only a few measly coins, but I can assure you that my gifts are not.”

So, he reassured you.

However, whether those words, coming from a slave of little worth, held any value to you, he didn't know—and probably never would.

“If you dislike them that much, you may place them on the table over there.”

The dice had been thrown.

“Aventurine, it’s not like that—"

“—Hahahaha! Of course! Of course she doesn’t know! That's what you get for letting his looks fool you!”

All the preparations were complete, and the cast members were in their respective spots.

“Do you know how hard I’ve been holding back my laugh?! I was wondering how to break the news this whole time! Hahahaha!”

Now, all that was left was to spectate.

Determined to get his hands on the emerald at all costs, Billy would undoubtedly be hostile toward you. Under such a pressure, there was no way someone as green as you could maintain your composure. What kind of truth would you blabber in that moment?

Indeed, the method he had arrived at was to pit you against Billy.

He’d be able to determine whose side you were on while also ensuring that Billy never got what he wanted—essentially killing two birds with one stone. In return, you received abundant wealth. Granted, if whoever hired you isn't too stingy and allows you to keep everything.

While the two of you were at it, he reclined against the plush sofa, resting one leg on top of the other. He reached for his leftover drink—a glass of Lazuli Bell—and tipped it slightly toward you, as if offering a toast.

Cheers to your newfound wealth.

In exchange, you’ll give me a good show, won’t you?

“Serves you right, you shallow bitch! How does it feel to find out that you’ve been latching onto shit painted with gold?! Now, hand them over!”

No longer playing nice, Billy hurled all sorts of curses at you, reaching for the jewels. In response, you clutched them tightly, pulling them away from him.

His lips, only an inch from the glass, curved into a grin.

Money shows true colors.

Naturally, this made Billy furious.

“Fucking whore! Do you think I was asking you?! Before, I was kind enough to offer you payment, but now you can forget about it! Just wait and see if I don’t make your life hell!”

He saw you tense up in fear and averted his gaze.

Seeing that you came all the way here to join their table, you should at least be prepared for this, right?

“You know what? There was a waiter just like you—acting all high and mighty and being stubborn for no reason. In the end, I had that stupid cunt begging on her knees, crying. That was the last anyone ever heard of her.”

As more insults were thrown your way, a hot, stifling sensation welled up in his chest, rising uncontrollably. In exasperation, Aventurine tore open the front of his shirt to let off steam, but to no avail.

Thinking that a sip might cool him off, he lifted the glass to his lips.

The violet, cyan, and navy liquid sparkled before him, radiating the transparency and brilliance of a crystal. In contrast, his eyes, reflected in the colorful surface, appeared bleak—like the depths of the sea where sunlight could never reach.

So, how could they be prettier?

Therefore, you had to be mistaken.

Ms. Aschenputtel, you shouldn’t idolize someone too much.

From what he’d seen tonight, your feelings toward him seemed to be genuine.

However, he only cared about ‘what is’ and ‘what isn’t.’

You matched your schedule with his, then joined his table as a waiter, doing questionable things that could be seen as aiding his enemy—it was as simple as that. Anything beyond that was mere conjecture.

Still, if...

If.

He realized he'd been using that word more often lately, even though there shouldn't be an 'if' in his world.

If.

If, somehow, miraculously, it turned out that you were still the same girl from that night.

“...Hic, your eyes, they are, hic... so pretty.”

That drunken girl who couldn’t even tell left from right...

Just then, a voice broke him out of his reverie.

“Of course I know, you piece of shit!”

A voice so firm, it no longer carried the stuttering shyness from before, followed by a dull snap.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ８】