Chapitre 9: Life lesson with Jean
As we stepped deeper into the casino, the noise enveloped us. The chime of slot machines, the clattering of poker chips, and the low hum of conversation filled the air. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and something sweet was in the air, probably from the café at the corner of the main hall. The energy in the room was electric—people hunched over slot machines with hopeful expressions, groups of friends crowding around blackjack tables, and a few solitary gamblers who looked like they hadn't left the place in days.
I shot a glance at Jean, who looked entirely comfortable, her casual demeanor hiding any hint that we were up to something that might get us in trouble.
"So, what's the plan?" I asked, keeping my voice low as we weaved through the maze of tables and machines.
Jean smirked, glancing over her shoulder at me. "The plan is to not get caught. But more importantly, it's to win."
"They got mutant detectors around, you do know that, right? The moment you use your power, the alarms will go off," I said as I took a look around. The guards here also looked burly and I'm pretty sure they got guns.
"Yeah, I kinda robbed most of the casinos around the area, so, they took new measures. Every machine in here has one of those detectors. And even the cards and chips, not to mention these workers or dealers... So, I'll be caught if I use my power to play," Jean said as if it wasn't a big deal. She spoke through telepathy. "Let's talk through telepathy from now on."
I gave her a slight nod. So, using ability is alright, but the moment one uses it to play, it's game over. There must be some kind of AI monitoring everything, huh?!
"So...?" I raised my brow.
"That's where you come in," she replied with a sly smirk.
"Ah! Since I'm a clone... You guys must have tested something on me when you rescued me, didn't you? Hank must have taken my DNA and found my genes are different than other mutants... They can't detect new undiscovered genes. That's all I could think of. So, am I right?" I raised my eyebrows. I'm pretty sure they are hiding more than that, I'll find out eventually.
"Wow! Nice job, detective... Yup, new genes. Although detectors doesn't work, some high quality suppressor might work on you."
"You want me to rob them blind, huh?! So, it was a mission after all!"
"Yup, a super secret mission, just for the two of us," Jean said as she scanned the area. "So, here's the plan. We are gonna start with something casual, like slot machines, then move to the table games. Don't always go for the win, they'll get suspicious. Lose some, win some, then try to act like you are a newbie. After winning a couple of big rounds, they will start to get suspicious. So, in the next, put 90% of what you won on the line and lose, that's when the main game will begin."
"Let me guess... Losing that big round will help us diffuse their suspicions of us robbing them," I added and Jean nodded. "Then, with the remaining 10% I'll win twice the amount I lost and act like- YAY! I got lucky! Then, get out of here with the money."
"Exactly!" Jean smirked.
"I gotta say, I'm starting to like you more and more every second, Jean. This is so bad, but also so good," I commented.
Jean's grin widened. "Of course. Plus, what kind of mentor would I be if I didn't give you life lessons, right?"
"Right..." I replied.
Jean led the way to the cashier, her demeanor cool and confident. She approached the counter, slid a stack of bills forward, and with a casual smile said, "A thousand in chips, please." The cashier, a tired-looking woman in her forties, didn't even blink. She quickly counted the money, handed Jean a neat stack of brightly colored chips, and nodded us along. She scooped them up, then turned back to me, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Alright," she said telepathically, "Let's get to work."
"Alright, first stop—slot machines," Jean said, keeping her voice low, though her words echoed in my mind. "Nobody pays too much attention to someone winning here because anyone barely wins here. Just look around these addicts, wasting their money on their luck."
I scanned the rows of slot machines, each flashing and jingling in a bid to lure in players. The players were pulling levers or pressing buttons with varying degrees of excitement. Some were mindlessly feeding the machines, others hoping for that one jackpot to change their lives.
We walked to an empty machine near the edge of the row, and I took the seat while she stood nearby, pretending to be just another onlooker. I inserted a couple of chips, pulled the lever, and the reels began to spin.
"Remember," Jean's voice came into my head again, "win some, lose some. Make it believable."
I gave her a slight nod, pulling the lever again as the images on the reels blurred. The machine came to a stop with a disappointing clatter—two cherries and a lemon. No win. Perfect.
Over the next few minutes, I alternated between winning small payouts and losing just enough to stay under the radar. As I kept playing, I felt the thrill of the game, though it wasn't quite as intense knowing that everything was under control. The fun part was controlling the mechanism of the machine with my telekinetic power and pretending that it was pure luck that was bringing me luck. And as Jean said earlier, these mutant detectors don't work on me.
After a few more rounds, I hit a decent win—five sevens across the middle row. The machine let out a triumphant jingle, and a small crowd gathered around, glancing at the amount displayed on the screen. I made sure to react like any lucky newbie would, pumping my fist and grinning at Jean.
"Nice!" I said out loud, making sure my excitement was just enough to seem real but not over the top.
Jean gave me a nod, subtly checking the room for anyone watching too closely. So far, so good.
"Alright, that's enough for the slots," she said telepathically. "Now let's head to the blackjack tables. Time to step up the game."
I got up from the slot machine, cashing out my chips and pocketing them as casually as I could. Jean led the way, and I followed until we reached one where the stakes were moderate but not high enough to attract too much attention. A few players were already seated, their faces focused, trying to guess the dealer's next move.
Jean gestured for me to take a seat while she stood nearby. I sat down, exchanged a few chips for a stack of betting tokens, and waited for the game to begin.
The dealer, a middle-aged guy with a neat mustache, dealt out the first hand, and I played cautiously at first, winning a couple of hands but also losing a few. Just like Jean had instructed. My stack of chips fluctuated—enough to keep the game interesting but not so much to raise any red flags.
After about fifteen minutes, I hit my first big win. A blackjack right off the deal. The dealer gave me a nod as I scooped up my winnings, and I could feel the eyes of the other players on me. I acted like a newbie who didn't expect to win, giving an awkward laugh and shrugging my shoulders.
"Guess I'm on a roll," I muttered, stacking my chips neatly in front of me.
Jean's voice slid into my thoughts again. "Perfect. Now lose a big one."
I glanced at my stack, picking up a sizable portion of my winnings and placing them on the table for the next hand. The cards were dealt, and I played it poorly on purpose, hitting when I should have stayed. The dealer won the hand, wiping out a good chunk of my chips.
"Damn," I said, shaking my head. "I knew I should've stayed."
The other players gave sympathetic nods, not suspecting a thing. I could see the dealer glance at me with a look of mild amusement, clearly thinking I was just another amateur gambler who got too greedy.
Jean, meanwhile, was casually leaning against the nearby wall, arms crossed and looking completely at ease. But I knew better. She was focused, watching every move, scanning the room for any signs that we were being watched too closely.
The next few hands went smoothly. I won a couple more, but nothing too big. Then, it was time for the final move.
"Alright," Jean's voice was calm but firm in my head. "This is it. Put 90% of your remaining chips on the table and lose. After that, one more game with a big win and we are out of here."
I met her gaze, giving a slight nod before turning back to the table. My heart was racing as I pulled my stack of chips into a larger pile. Here goes. I played the hand as badly as possible without making it obvious. Sure enough, I lost, and the dealer raked in the chips.
I let out a frustrated sigh, slumping in my chair a little, playing the part of the disappointed gambler.
"Well, there goes that," I muttered, tossing the few remaining chips I had left into the center of the table.
The next hand began, and I stayed focused. This was the crucial moment. If I won now, I'd walk out of here with double what I came in with.
The cards were dealt, and I played it carefully this time, just like any gambler trying to recoup their losses would. The other players were watching, eyes flicking between my cards and the dealer's, curious to see if I'd make a comeback.
I did.
Blackjack again.
I let out a whoop of surprise, grinning like an idiot. "No way! I can't believe it!"
The dealer smiled politely, pushing my winnings toward me. The other players gave me congratulatory nods, and I could feel the tension ease around the table. I was just another lucky gambler who hit a streak.
"Alright, that's enough for me," I said, getting up from the table and gathering my chips. "Better quit while I'm ahead."
I could feel Jean's approval through our telepathic connection as we made our way toward the cash-out counter. I handed over the chips, and the clerk counted them out, handing me a neat stack of bills. I pocketed the cash, glancing at Jean.
"Time to go," she said, a satisfied smirk on her face.
We walked out of the casino, the cool winter air hitting us as soon as we stepped outside. I took a deep breath, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Jean walked beside me, her pace steady and calm, as if we hadn't just pulled off a perfect heist.
"So, how do you feel?" she asked, glancing at me.
I grinned. "Like I just robbed a casino. We made freaking 80 grand!"
She chuckled. "Technically, you did. But hey, it was for a good cause."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what cause is that exactly?"
She gave me a sideways look, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Getting you some pocket money. And, well, teaching you a valuable life skill."
I couldn't help but laugh. "You're something else, Jean."
"Glad you're catching on," she said, her smile widening. "Now, let's get out of here before they figure out what just happened."
--
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