Back at the table, it was the showdown. Only three players were still in. The middle-aged man had peeked at his cards and felt confident. Compared to Thora, who hadn't even looked once and blindly followed along, his chances seemed much higher. He even had a way to guarantee a win. A cold smile tugged at his lips. He clenched his cards tightly, deliberately pretending to be nervous, revealing nothing on the surface. Roxen stayed silent, keeping his eyes on Thora. Thora's ear twitched as she caught the faintest sound. Even Darius, who was only there to watch, had gone cold, his presence chilling. From above, Dorian observed with cool detachment. Cheating right under the casino owner's eyes? That wasn't flirting with death—that was already halfway buried.Roxen didn't care about his own hand. He'd played the whole time like a companion piece. In the last round, he simply folded and threw his cards away, choosing to exit. Only Thora and the middle-aged man remained. Thora understood Roxen's move perfectly. That was her fight. He wouldn't interfere, and he'd step back at the right moment. That was their unspoken rhythm. Roxen's withdrawal stunned everyone. All eyes were on the last two. No more raises—just a straight showdown. The middle-aged man was full of confidence, already eyeing the cash next to Thora as if it were his. Thora didn't glance at her cards. She laid them on the table. The crowd erupted in disappointed murmurs. Her hand was tiny—the weakest kind, only strong enough to win with a high card. If the man had a better card or any kind of set, she'd lose. Her highest card was only a 10. People sighed in pity. It was clearly a losing hand, yet she remained calm, her expression unshaken. The middle-aged man laughed, loud and mocking. "Kid, you're still too green. Don't be so reckless at your age, or you'll end up losing even your underwear!" As he spoke, he flipped his cards. "Take a look at my straight flush—" He froze mid-sentence. His cards looked almost the same as hers. He had three cards in a row, but it wasn't even close to a straight flush. It was one of the smallest possible hands, and his highest card was only a nine—just one point below Thora's. He froze, staring at the table, disbelief all over his face. How was that possible? He'd messed with the deck to make a straight flush! So why had it ended up like that?He didn't dare blow up. He could only stare blankly at the five cards in front of him. Thora had won. The dealer slid all the chips toward her. The dramatic reversal left the onlookers stunned. Those who had folded early beat their chests in regret. If they'd realized both hands were that weak, they wouldn't have quit. They should've followed to the end. The truth was that they didn't have the guts. In a casino, half was luck, half was guts. And real gamblers? Nine out of 10 relied on guts. Anyone without nerves would never make it to the final round. After the game ended, one of the man's bodyguards leaned in and whispered something. His expression shifted, and he didn't try to keep playing. The casino staff counted the cash he'd lost, confirmed it, and handed it over to Thora before letting him leave. The man seethed silently, but he didn't say more. He shot Thora a vicious glare, snorted, and left, surrounded by his guards.Thora leaned back in her chair, casually flipping through a thick stack of bills from her winnings. She rubbed the edges with her fingers before tossing them toward Roxen. Roxen picked them up, fiddling with them as they shared a knowing look. It was obvious. Every single bill that man had brought was fake—the exact counterfeit they'd been tracking.