Chapter 225: Floating Casino

The Gilded Lily floated on Lake Sereth.

Holden saw it from the transport jet thirty miles away. A massive, glowing structure sat on the surface of the lake, surrounded by darkness on every side. The water below was almost completely black. Enchanted pontoons kept the casino city afloat while also maintaining a field of magical darkness around it, swallowing light and sound and hiding the entire place from anyone who wasn’t specifically looking for it.

From above, however, it was impossible to miss. A floating city of gold and light sat in the middle of the dark water, its neon signs and enchanted lights painting the lake in shifting colors.

The Gilded Lily wasn’t just one building. It was an entire complex, a sprawling network of structures built on a huge artificial island anchored to the lakebed by enchanted chains. Hotels, restaurants, bars, entertainment venues, and gambling halls filled the outer areas. The outer ring handled regular guests and mid-tier gambling, while the inner ring was reserved for high-stakes games. At the very center stood the tower, a slender golden spire rising ten stories above the waterline with a private suite at the top.

Serith’s lair.

The transport jet landed on a floating platform at the city’s edge. Holden stepped out into warm, perfumed air that smelled like expensive wine and bad decisions.

He was wearing the suit.

The tailored dark fabric fit perfectly, preserved in pristine condition inside his System Inventory. A silk tie sat neatly around his neck and his shoes were polished. Phantom-Weave Armor rested beneath the suit jacket, thin enough that no one could see it.

He looked like money. Old money.

Cora and Sera walked on either side of him. Both had changed into dark tactical suits that looked like professional bodyguard uniforms.

Their eyes never stopped moving.

"Remember the rules," Holden said without moving his lips. His voice stayed low and casual. "You’re my bodyguards. Don’t speak unless someone speaks to you first. Don’t react to anything unless I’m in danger. And keep your mental walls up at all times."

"Mental walls, Master Voss?" Cora asked, barely above a whisper.

"Lady Serith is a Rank 4 mind manipulator. She can project illusions, alter perceptions, and enslave minds. If you feel anything pressing against your thoughts, anything that feels wrong, push back. Hard."

"Understood," Sera said.

"And if she tries to control you directly, come find me. Don’t try to fight a Rank 4 mind manipulator on your own."

"Yes, Master Voss."

They continued toward the entrance.

The Gilded Lily’s main gate was a golden arch thirty feet high. Two bouncers stood on either side, both looking as though they had been forced into the cheap suits they wore. Their eyes were flat and glassy.

The telltale sign of Serith’s control.

These were brainwashed enforcers, stripped of their free will and turned into living security cameras.

Holden’s 10,000x processor cataloged them automatically. Rank 2, 3-Star. Both carried concealed batons and stun gauntlets. There was no independent thought behind their eyes. A Rank 4 psychic link connected them directly to Serith’s commands.

Holden barely gave them a second glance.

"Invitation," the left bouncer said.

His voice was flat and lifeless.

Holden produced the invitation Maeve had arranged. It was a cream-colored card with gold lettering and the Gilded Lily’s insignia stamped across the front. It identified him as Aldric Voss, a wealthy heir with a gambling problem and a trust fund large enough to buy a small country.

The bouncer scanned the card. His flat eyes flickered as the psychic link checked the invitation against Serith’s records.

"Welcome to the Gilded Lily, Mr. Voss." The bouncer stepped aside. "Enjoy your stay."

Holden walked through the arch.

The interior hit him with a wall of light, sound, and color.

The main hall of the Gilded Lily was a cathedral of excess. The ceiling stretched fifty feet above them, covered in enchanted murals that shifted constantly, showing scenes of wealth and pleasure.

The gambling floor stretched in every direction. Hundreds of tables filled the hall, each staffed by dealers in crisp white shirts and black vests. Slot machines lined the walls, their enchanted displays flashing and chiming in a constant rhythm. Bars served drinks that glowed in unnatural colors while waitresses moved through the crowd with trays of champagne and canapés.

Then there was the crowd.

Men wore suits that cost more than most people’s cars. Women wore dresses that seemed designed to show off both their wealth and their confidence. Nobles smiled while keeping weapons hidden beneath their clothes. Crime lords sat surrounded by bodyguards, drinking and laughing as though the world belonged to them.

The entire population of the Gilded Lily seemed to be made up of people with too much money and too little conscience.

Holden’s processor quietly cataloged the room. Faces. Weapons. Exits. The main entrance behind him. Two side exits on the eastern and western walls. A service entrance near the kitchens. Stairs leading to the upper floors on the north side, each guarded by security checkpoints. The elevator to Serith’s private suite was on the tenth floor and required special access.

He walked through the crowd like he owned the place.

Then he found the table.

The high-stakes section sat behind a velvet rope, separated from the main gambling floor by two more glassy-eyed enforcers. The table was covered in black felt, the real kind rather than cheap synthetic fabric. Heavy clay chips bearing the Gilded Lily insignia were stacked around it.

The minimum buy-in was fifty thousand credits.

Four players were already seated.

The first was a man in his fifties with a thick neck and a red face. His suit looked slightly too tight, while the expensive watch on his wrist looked slightly too loud. His energy signature marked him as Rank 2, 4-Star. A crime boss, judging by his appearance and the bodyguard standing behind him.

The second was a woman in her forties, thin and sharp-eyed, wearing enough jewelry to probably buy Holden’s entire outfit several times over. Her energy was Rank 2, 2-Star. An information broker, most likely. Two thin men stood behind her, both carrying the cold look of people who specialized in getting information through unpleasant methods.

The third player looked like he hadn’t slept in three days. His suit was wrinkled, his tie hung loose, and his hands shook whenever he touched the table. Rank 1, 8-Star.

A desperate gambler.

The fourth chair was empty.

Holden sat down.

The dealer was a woman in her twenties, professional and attractive, with the same glassy-eyed expression as the bouncers. Another brainwashed servant.

"New player," the crime boss said. His voice was thick and unpleasant. "Fresh meat."

Holden looked him over slowly, letting his eyes move from the man’s face to his watch, then down to his suit and bodyguard.

"Aldric Voss." Holden’s voice was different from the cold tone he used on the battlefield or the warmer voice he used around his family. This one was haughty and bored, like someone who had never been told no and found the entire idea exhausting. "I’m here to lose money in interesting ways. Are you the interesting way, or should I find another table?"

The crime boss’s face reddened.

His bodyguard shifted behind him.

"Big talk for a kid," the information broker said. Her voice was dry and calm. "Buy-in is two hundred thousand."

Holden reached inside his jacket and produced a chip case. He placed it on the table and opened it.

Inside were neatly stacked chips worth five hundred thousand credits, purchased at the entrance with money recovered from the Crimson Syndicate.

Two stacks came out.

Two hundred thousand credits.

Holden placed them on the table and closed the case.

"Deal."

The dealer’s hands moved.

The enchanted deck shuffled, cards sliding through her fingers with impossible speed. The Rank 2 enchantment scrambled the order and created what should have been an unpredictable sequence.

Holden’s 10,000x processor read the enchantment almost instantly.

The deck wasn’t truly random.

The enchantment followed a fixed pattern controlled by the dealer’s movements. Because she had been brainwashed, the way she held and shuffled the deck was almost identical every time.

That was enough.

The pattern could be solved.

Holden knew the cards before the first one touched the table.

The first hand was dealt. Five cards each. It was a high-stakes variation of poker with three rounds of betting.

Holden looked at his hand.

Garbage.

A pair of threes and three unrelated cards.

He glanced around the table, studying the other players rather than their actual cards. The crime boss had a strong drawing hand, and his left thumb kept rubbing against his index finger. A small habit, but one that appeared whenever he was confident.

The information broker had two pair, sevens and fours. A slight twitch around her right eye gave away the strength of her hand.

The desperate gambler had nothing.

His breathing had become shallow, his pupils were wide, and his fingers kept tightening around his cards.

He was preparing to bluff.

Holden already knew how the hand would end.

He folded.

"Smart," the information broker said. "Most new players can’t fold a pair."

"I can’t fold fast enough," Holden replied. "Is that all you have? I’m getting bored."

The crime boss won the hand when his flush came through. He scooped the pot with a greedy grin and laughed loudly.

Holden stared at him.

"I’m still bored."

The next hand was dealt.

Holden already knew what was coming.

This time, he had three of a kind. Strong enough to play, but not enough to win. The crime boss would draw a full house. The information broker would complete a straight.

Holden raised.

The pot climbed to three hundred thousand credits. The crime boss and the information broker called while the desperate gambler folded.

The draw came.

The crime boss got his full house.

The information broker got her straight.

Holden’s three of a kind lost to both.

He folded.

"Rough luck, kid," the crime boss said. "Maybe this game is too rich for your blood."

Holden looked at him.

"Maybe. Or maybe I’m just waiting for you to get comfortable enough to make a mistake."

The third hand began.

Holden read the shuffle, the cards, and the players.

This time, he had the winning hand.

A royal flush.

The crime boss was holding a powerful straight flush of his own, one card away from completion. Strong enough to make a reckless player bet everything.

Holden checked.

It was the move of someone pretending he wasn’t confident in his hand.

The crime boss took the bait.

"Two hundred thousand."

The information broker called.

The desperate gambler folded.

Holden raised another four hundred thousand.

The crime boss’s eyes lit up.

He thought Holden was bluffing.

"All in."

The information broker immediately folded.

Holden called.

The final card came down.

The crime boss completed his straight flush.

He slammed his cards onto the table and laughed.

"Straight flush! Read them and weep, rich boy!"

Holden didn’t react.

Instead, he calmly turned over his cards one at a time.

The first card.

The second.

The third.

Then the last two.

A royal flush.

The table went silent.

The crime boss stared at the cards.

His red face slowly drained of color.

"That’s not possible."

He pointed at his own hand.

"I had a straight flush."

"Yes," the dealer said in her flat voice. "But his is higher."

The crime boss’s mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

His entire stack, along with everything he had put into the pot, was pushed toward Holden.

"That was unfortunate," Holden said. "For you, anyway. I actually enjoyed that one."

His eyes moved around the table.

"Is there anyone else here who can provide me with a similar level of amusement, or should I find another game?"

The information broker’s eye twitched. From Suspicion.

She was smart enough to know that nobody won three high-stakes hands like that by accident. Yet she couldn’t find the trick. There was no obvious cheating, no hidden cards, no sleight of hand.

Holden had simply played the table perfectly.

The next fifteen minutes became a massacre.

He won hand after hand. He knew when to fold and when to raise. He allowed the other players to take small pots so they wouldn’t leave too quickly, then crushed them when the stakes became high enough.

The information broker lost the rest of her chips on the seventh hand after betting heavily on a straight that couldn’t beat Holden’s full house. She stood, tightened her coat, and left with her two bodyguards close behind.

The desperate gambler had folded after the first hand and hadn’t played since. He remained at the table, staring at his empty stack while gripping a glass of whiskey he probably couldn’t afford.

The crime boss left to find more money.

He returned with a briefcase filled with uncut gemstones, which the house quickly converted into chips.

Three hands later, they were all gone.

New players replaced the old ones.

A weapons dealer.

A corrupt official from a neighboring territory.

They arrived confident and left with empty pockets.

Holden’s chip pile continued to grow until it covered most of the table.

Twenty-eight minutes.

Eight players.

All bankrupt.

Holden sat alone at the table, resting his chin against one hand. His expression showed nothing but aristocratic boredom.

"Is that all you have?" he asked the empty chairs. "I’m getting bored."

Then he felt them.

Four people approaching from the northern side of the room.

Holden didn’t need to turn around to know they were coming for him.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized. Their glassy eyes stayed locked on him as they approached.

Rank 2, 6-Star.

Better than the guards at the entrance.

Serith’s personal enforcers.

They stopped at the edge of the table.

The leader was a tall woman with a shaved head and arms that looked like steel cables. She stared at Holden with the same empty expression as the others.

"Mr. Voss," she said. "Lady Serith would like a word with you upstairs."

Holden finally looked up.

His eyes moved across the four enforcers, taking in their blank faces and the weapon hidden beneath the leader’s jacket. A Rank 2 stun baton. Strong enough to drop another Rank 2 cultivator with a single hit.

Then he glanced at his mountain of chips.

The crowd behind him.

Word of his winning streak had already spread across the casino floor.

A smile slowly appeared on his face.

"Finally," he said. "Someone with taste."