The private elevator had spat them out on the seventh floor, the administrative area of the Onyx Palace. The interrogation room lacked windows facing the casino floor. It only had a large tempered glass window at the back, offering a stunning view of the city lights. The rest of the room was practical and slightly intimidating. The walls were lined with acoustic panels. There was a heavy stainless steel table, bolted to the floor. A fluorescent light buzzed like a dying insect.
Gael sat in the metal chair. He didn't pull it up to the table. He leaned back, crossed his legs, and shoved his hands into his coat pockets, guarding his chips. The two thugs who had escorted him were massive, dressed identically. They stood on either side of the only door, arms crossed.
The man in the gray suit, wearing a badge that read "Vargas, Director of Security," tossed a tablet onto the steel table. It landed with a dull thud.
"Thirty-five to one in roulette. Three major jackpots on the Class A slots. A perfect streak almost all week." Vargas leaned toward Gael, resting his palms on the table and glaring intensely at him. "Nobody is that lucky, kid. Not even God. What did you use? A hidden electromagnetic pulse? Micro-cameras? Did you buy off my dealers?"
Gael looked at the tablet screen with absolute disinterest. His mind wasn't on the accusation; he was crunching the numbers of the room. Variable one: three hostile men. Variable two: an enclosed environment on a seventh floor. If my luck has to protect me from physical harm here, the collateral damage will bounce off these walls. It could bring the ceiling down on their heads.
"I didn't use anything," Gael replied, his voice devoid of inflection. "I'm just on a hot streak. You should be happy, Vargas. Stories like mine attract desperate customers."
Vargas let out a dry, raspy laugh.
"Arrogant scammers are my favorite. They always think they're smarter than the house, right up until the house breaks the fingers on both their hands. The money stays here, and you are going to explain your trick."
The director made an imperceptible nod. The thug on the right, a giant with a deviated septum, took two strides forward. He raised a fist the size of a melon, aiming straight for Gael's jaw with the intent to shatter it.
Gael didn't blink. He didn't raise his hands to cover himself. He didn't even tense his neck. He just waited for the equation to solve itself.
The fist descended with brutal force. Just inches from Gael's face, the sole of the thug's patent leather shoe stepped on a small bead of floor wax. The cleaning crew hadn't buffed it properly.
Friction vanished completely. The giant lost his balance in a comical and grotesque fashion. His fist missed, barely brushing the air in front of Gael's nose. Then, his momentum sent him crashing mouth-first into the sharp corner of the steel table.
There was a wet crunch. The man bounced back, clutching his face. He fell to his knees, spitting blood and a few teeth onto the clean linoleum. Then, he collapsed, unconscious.
The ensuing silence was broken only by the buzzing of the fluorescent light.
Vargas took a step back, suddenly pale. His professional composure cracked. The second guard rested his hand on his pistol holster. He hesitated upon seeing his fallen comrade, as if he had just witnessed a dark magic trick.
"What did you do to him?" Vargas hissed, pointing a trembling finger at Gael.
"I haven't moved." Gael shrugged, settling back into the chair with astonishing calm. "It was a workplace accident. You should review your casino's cleaning policies, Vargas. An unacceptable occupational hazard."
Vargas gritted his teeth. A vein throbbed furiously in his neck. He drew an expandable steel baton from his belt with a menacing clack.
"Grab him!" he yelled at the second guard, losing his temper completely. "I'll show him what a fucking accident looks like."
The second guard drew his weapon and advanced, but his hands were visibly shaking.
Gael sighed, genuinely bored. The experiment had lost its charm. He already knew they couldn't touch him. Trying to hurt him was like watching two apes beat each other up to solve a quantum physics problem.
"I'm bored," Gael announced, standing up slowly.
The sudden movement startled the guard. By reflex, he pulled the trigger, aiming right at Gael's chest.
CLICK!
The firing pin struck empty. The round had jammed. A failure in the ammunition's primer, a one-in-a-million manufacturing defect. The guard stared at his gun, frightened and confused. Then, he yanked the slide hard to eject the defective round.
SNAP! The recoil spring snapped under the tension. This completely jammed the weapon's internal mechanism. In his panic, the guard dropped his heavy steel pistol. It bounced and struck his foot with such force that it fractured a toe. The thug let out a sharp cry, leaving the weapon behind as he hobbled backward.
Gael started walking, stepping indifferently over the first thug and walking around the second. Vargas backed up and bumped against the glass window. He raised his baton like a useless shield, breaking into a cold sweat.
"Don't... Don't come any closer," the security director muttered. His authority vanished in the face of the impossible.
Gael stopped three feet from him. He looked him up and down with absolute coldness.
"Keep the tablet, Vargas. And tell the owner of this cesspool that I'm taking my winnings. If you try to stop me again... well. Let's just say your insurance policy won't cover the level of natural disasters that will rain down on you."
Gael turned toward the exit. He twisted the knob. It was locked with a high-security electronic lock, controlled from the outside.
He sighed again. He wasn't going to wait for Vargas to give him the passcode. He glanced over his shoulder. He saw the large tempered glass window behind the terrified manager. It overlooked the street directly, seven stories down, where the night traffic flowed like a river of lights.
The door was locked, but gravity always left its doors open. And, with his luck, the fall would be just the beginning of the real show.
Gael adjusted his coat collar and walked straight toward the window.