Respawn in Reality: Game Over, Player One

Chapter 8

The two mechanics stopped playing. They looked at Leo and grinned. They saw an easy target.

"Sure thing, little boy," the larger mechanic said. "Put your money on the edge."

Leo placed his wrinkled fifty-dollar bill on the wooden edge of the table. His heart was beating fast. This was a massive risk.

The large mechanic won the current game, then turned to Leo. "Alright, kid. Break the balls."

Leo picked up a wooden cue stick. It felt strange in his hands. It was heavier than a computer mouse. He leaned over the table. He purposely held the stick wrong, gripping it too tightly near the back.

He hit the white ball. It slammed into the triangle of colored balls. They scattered, but nothing went into a pocket.

"Nice try," the mechanic laughed.

The mechanic played well. He sank three balls in a row. Leo watched him carefully.

When it was Leo's turn again, his HUD drew perfect lines to the easiest shots. But Leo ignored them. He aimed slightly to the left of the glowing lines. He hit the ball. It bounced off the edge of the pocket and missed.

Leo groaned and hit his hand against his leg, pretending to be angry.

The mechanic laughed louder. The man played again, sinking two more balls.

By the end of the game, Leo had lost. The mechanic reached out and snatched the fifty-dollar bill off the table.

"Thanks for the lunch money, kid," the man sneered.

Leo looked down at his empty hands. He had exactly zero dollars left. His timer read [22:15:00].

"Wait," Leo said, his voice shaking. He made his eyes wide, trying to look desperate. "I have something else. Please. Give me a chance to win my money back."

Leo unzipped his dirty duffel bag. He reached inside and pulled out the only valuable thing he owned.

It was his official Team Apex competitive gaming jacket. It was beautiful. It was made of thick, waterproof black material with silver carbon-fiber threading on the shoulders. 

The Team Apex logo was embroidered in shiny gold thread on the back. It was a limited-edition jacket given only to the five starting players of the team. 

On the black market or to a rich fan, it was easily worth two thousand dollars. He laid the expensive jacket on the pool table.

The loud bar suddenly grew a little quieter. The bright gold thread of the jacket caught the dim light. The rough men in the bar knew quality when they saw it.

"What is that?" the mechanic asked, looking at the jacket with greedy eyes.

Before Leo could answer, a smooth, cold voice came from behind him. 

"That is a Team Apex official stage jacket. Series Four."

Leo turned around. Raphael, the tall boss in the silver suit, was standing right behind him. Raphael was staring at the jacket with intense interest.

"My nephew watches those video game tournaments," Raphael said, stepping closer. He reached out with a long finger and touched the silver carbon-fiber material. "He begged me for one of these for his birthday. But you can't buy them in stores. Only the players get them."

Raphael looked up at Leo. His dark eyes were cold and calculating. "How did a dirty street rat like you get this? Did you steal it?"

"No," Leo lied, looking at the ground to act scared. "My... my rich brother gave it to me. It's worth a lot of money. I just want my fifty dollars back."

Raphael chuckled. It was a dry, hollow sound. "You want to bet a two-thousand-dollar piece of clothing to win back a fifty-dollar bill? You really are stupid, kid."

Raphael waved his hand. The mechanic immediately stepped back, clearly afraid of the boss. Raphael walked around to the side of the table and picked up a piece of blue chalk.

"I tell you what, kid," Raphael said, chalking the tip of his pool stick. "I like your jacket. I will play you one game for it. If you win, I will give you... let's see."

Raphael reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills. He dropped the money onto the pool table. It made a heavy, beautiful sound.

"One thousand, five hundred dollars," Raphael said, smiling his cruel smile. "Your jacket against my cash. One game of eight-ball. Winner takes all."

Leo’s breath caught in his throat. One thousand, five hundred dollars. It was more than enough to pay his rent. It was enough to survive. The HUD flashed a bright, excited green in his vision.

[Target Funds Acquired. Proceed with objective.]

"Okay," Leo squeaked, pretending to be terrified by the large amount of money. "I'll play."

"Good boy," Raphael smiled. "Since I am putting up the cash, I break."

The men in the bar gathered around the old, slightly tilted table. They wanted to see the boss humiliate the stupid kid. They formed a tight circle, completely trapping Leo. The smell of cheap cigars was making him dizzy.

Raphael leaned over the table. He hit the white ball with incredible power. CRACK.

The balls exploded across the table. Two striped balls dropped immediately into the pockets.

"Stripes," Raphael announced smoothly.

Raphael was not just a gang boss; he was an excellent pool player. He moved around the table with confidence. He hit a ball into the side pocket. He bounced another off the back wall and into a corner.

Clack. Clack. Clack. The men in the crowd cheered and clapped with every shot Raphael made. They patted him on the back. Raphael smiled, enjoying the attention.

Leo watched quietly. He was not nervous. The HUD was active, analyzing every single shot Raphael took. It noted that Raphael always put a little too much backspin on the ball. 

It noted that Raphael favored his right leg when he stood. The system was downloading everything about Raphael's physical habits.

Raphael had only two striped balls left, plus the black eight-ball. But his last shot was a mistake. The white ball rolled too far and got stuck directly behind one of Leo's solid balls.

Raphael cursed under his breath. He had no clear shot at his own balls.

Instead of trying a risky trick shot, Raphael decided to play dirty. He aimed the white cue ball at a strange angle. He tapped it softly.

The white ball rolled slowly and stopped directly behind three of Leo's solid colored balls. It was completely trapped. It was backed into a tight corner. 

There was no direct path to any of Leo's other balls. The eight-ball was blocking the only way out.

It was an impossible position. In the game of pool, this was called a "snooker." Raphael had deliberately trapped the cue ball so that Leo could not possibly make a legal hit. 

If Leo failed to hit one of his own balls first, it would be a penalty, and Raphael would get to place the white ball wherever he wanted for an easy win.

Raphael stood up straight and smiled his golden smile. He patted his silver suit. "Your turn, kid," Raphael laughed. "Good luck."

The crowd of men laughed loudly. They mocked Leo.

"Just give him the jacket, kid!" one man shouted.

"You can't even touch your own balls from there!" another laughed.

Leo walked up to the table. He stared down at the trapped white ball. A normal player would have forfeited right there.

The geometry required to escape the trap and actually sink a ball was too complex for the human brain to calculate on the spot. But Leo did not have a normal human brain anymore.

"System," Leo whispered quietly, so no one could hear him. "Show me the path."