"Dylan."
"Yeah?"
"How much cash did you bring?"
"Five million. Enough?"
"I'll lend you another five million. Ten million total. Let's go big. A 60/40 split."
"How come I only get 60%?"
"Pah! The 60% is mine. You get 40%."
"...On what basis?"
"I'm lending you the capital."
"I have money."
"Is it enough to buy a seat at that table?"
Locke glanced at Dylan, his tone indifferent.
Tony Stark was the ideal "sucker" and the ultimate "fat sheep" in the eyes of professional gamblers all over Las Vegas. But very few of them ever got a chance to feast on this trouble-free sheep.
The reason was simple: most gamblers weren't qualified to sit at the same table as Tony Stark. The buy-in alone was ten million dollars. That requirement was enough to discourage 90% of professional gamblers.
After all, what if they lost? Even for a pro, winning isn't guaranteed. A ten-million-dollar game was pocket change to a billionaire like Stark, but for a professional gambler, it was likely their entire net worth.
Locke continued, "Deal or no deal? I'm putting up five million just to come play with you. To be honest, if it weren't for our friendship, I'd be taking an 80% cut."
Dylan looked at Locke curiously. "Do you have a grudge against Stark?"
Locke shook his head. "Today was the first time I've even been that close to him."
That was the truth.
"Then why...?"
"There are some people who look fine from a distance, but once you get close, you realize they really have a punchable face."
"...Give me the real reason."
"His security guard just pushed me."
"..."
If it weren't for the setting—or if he had been wearing his sunglasses—that Guy wouldn't have dared touch him.
Dylan laughed and shook his head. "No deal."
Locke looked at him.
Dylan fiddled with the chips in his hand. "Locke, the biggest taboo in our profession is bringing personal feelings to the table. I'm here to make money, not to vent spite."
Locke raised an eyebrow and stared at Dylan for a moment. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine. Have a good time."
Dylan smiled, hugged Locke again, waved, and headed toward the elevator. Locke watched him go and smiled. He never forced anyone.
Besides, Dylan was right. Work is work, personal is personal. You can't mix the two. That was how Dylan had managed to turn his Navy discharge pay into a five-million-dollar fortune. He knew when to fold.
Las Vegas is huge; if you win big, you can disappear. But here? If the "Fat Sheep" gets angry, very few people can withstand the power of his checkbook.
Locke looked down and chuckled.
"Locke."
"Hmm?"
Once Dylan was gone, Gwen blinked and looked at Locke curiously. "Didn't you say you didn't have many friends in Texas?"
Locke sat down, looked at the curious Gwen, and then at the two "curious babies" across from him. He laughed. "I said I didn't have any friends my age. I didn't say I had no friends at all."
He possessed the wisdom of a past life. Expecting him to play house with a bunch of toddlers was nonsense. So, while he had zero friends his own age in Texas, he had a few older ones.
Clint Chester was both a mentor and a friend. Dylan was someone he met during his first trip to Vegas; Dylan had taught him most of what he knew about the gambling tables.
Gwen stared into Locke's crystal-clear blue eyes, her lips curving into a beautiful arc. "Your life in Texas must have been very exciting."
Locke smiled. "Maybe I'll tell you about it someday."
That would probably be a long, long time from now. As long as the identity of the Peerless Assassin remained a secret, his Texas stories would likely stay secret too.
Across from them, Cindy and Kahn watched the two of them staring longingly into each other's eyes. Feeling a bit of "second-hand embarrassment," they started making goofy faces at each other. After some playful banter, the four of them stood up and headed toward the restaurant Gwen and Cindy had chosen.
Gwen watched Locke lead the way with practiced ease and blinked. "This is your first time here, right?"
Locke gave an "mhm." "There was a map in the room. Didn't you look at it?"
Gwen nodded. "I did. But you... you memorized it?"
Locke walked into the selected restaurant and chuckled. "I memorized a little bit."
Gwen: "..."
As someone trained under an apprenticeship, Locke possessed all the skills a "classical" assassin should have. Arriving at a new location, learning the layout, and mapping out various escape routes in his mind was basic training. An assassin might fail at killing, but if they weren't good at running away, they'd be a laughingstock.
...
By the evening, Locke, Gwen, Cindy, and Kahn had toured a good portion of the ship, but they had only managed to cover half of the 12th floor. It was just too big. After all, it was a vessel for over six thousand people. Crucially, even with six thousand passengers spread across sixteen decks, it didn't feel crowded at all.
After dinner, Cindy and Kahn chose to head straight back to their room.
Locke sighed as he watched Kahn's glowing eyes. If he didn't learn moderation now, he'd regret it in the future. But Cindy's eyes were glowing too. Locke could only hope Kahn would soon realize that goji berries were his best friend. Beyond that, he said nothing and headed toward his own room with Gwen.
However, as Locke was opening their door, the door diagonally across from them opened.
Gwen froze for a moment, looking at the woman who stepped out. Her eyes lit up. "You're Ms. Pepper Potts!"
Pepper, who had just left her boss's room and was heading to her own, frowned at the vibrant young woman who knew her name. "And you are...?"
"Gwen Stacy!" Gwen smiled and reached out to shake Pepper's hand. "I was in the lab when you visited Oscorp a few days ago."
Pepper's mind raced, eventually landing on a image of a girl in a white lab coat with a ponytail during her visit to inspect the lizard serum research. She quickly recovered and shook Gwen's hand. "You're Dr. Connors' assistant."
Gwen nodded. "Yes. I saw you on the deck earlier, but it was too crowded to say hello."
Pepper smiled, her gaze then falling on Locke. As a top-tier executive assistant, while her boss might walk around with his nose in the air, she couldn't afford to. Furthermore, Pepper Potts was the assistant hand-picked by the late Howard Stark for Tony.
"Pepper Potts."
"Locke Broughton."
Pepper shook Locke's hand as her memory banks whirred. She connected the name to the recent high-profile case that had rocked New York—the boy who had won a lawsuit against Homeland Security and sent three agents to prison. Locke's legal "game" had been a sensation that shook most of the US.
Pepper had certainly been following it. However, after a few polite pleasantries, she headed toward the elevator.
Back in the room, Locke looked at Gwen curiously. "Pepper Potts is with Stark Industries. Why was she at Oscorp Biology?"
Gwen walked over to the sofa and stretched. "Dr. Connors' lab was short on funding."
Locke raised an eyebrow.
"Did I tell you about Dr. Connors' research?" Gwen.
"Mhm." Locke headed to the wine cabinet. "Regrowing limbs."
Gwen laughed. "Not regrowing limbs—we're researching rapid self-healing."
Locke looked up. "Is there a difference?" Wasn't the reason Connors was researching lizard serum to restore his own status from a disabled person to a normal one?
Gwen shook her head. "Anyway, Dr. Connors has been on this research since he was hired by Oscorp. But two years have passed, and for the last six months, Chairman Norman Osborn has basically handed power to the board. The board thinks the progress is too slow and doesn't want to provide more funds."
Locke's hand blurred over the bar as he produced a bottle of Thunder Bourbon. He walked toward the sofa. "Then what does that have to do with Stark Industries?" Surely the two companies weren't linked?
Gwen smiled. "Dr. Connors knows an executive at Stark Industries who has Tony Stark's ear. That's why Ms. Pepper Potts went to investigate if the research was worth headhunting the team."
Locke understood. "So they used Stark Industries to make Oscorp feel threatened so they'd keep funding Connors' lab?"
Gwen nodded. "Exactly. In fact, the very next day, the Oscorp board restored the funding."
Locke nodded sincerely. "Impressive."
*Pop.* Locke took out two glasses, looked at Gwen, and smiled. "Care for a drink?"
Gwen tilted her head and looked at him. After a moment, her eyes crinkled into beautiful crescents. "Locke, even without the wine, we were still going to sleep together."
Locke: "..."to