Rescue Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver?
After seeing the new task issued by the system, Richard frowned slightly.
He'd known that Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver existed in this world, but he hadn't expected them to be imprisoned by the Hellfire Club.
Are they trying to threaten Magneto?
Reading the mission details, Richard's first thought was that the Hellfire Club intended to leverage the twins against Magneto. But he quickly dismissed this theory.
Magneto didn't even know he had twin children—how could the Hellfire Club possibly know? Besides, Magneto wasn't someone easily threatened, even if Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver were his children.
Where Professor X maintained some semblance of saintliness and hesitation, Magneto was absolute in his ruthlessness.
The King of Cards couldn't see the mission information that appeared before Richard like a holographic projection, but he could observe Richard's expression.
"Not welcoming of a new player at the table?" Gambit asked, his Cajun accent lilting through the words.
Hearing the question, Richard closed the mission panel and replied with casual indifference, "Has anyone ever told you your smile's a little too slick?"
What?
The King of Cards had assumed Richard simply didn't want him joining the game. He hadn't expected a critique of his signature charm.
"Slick? Never heard that one before. All I know is plenty of women appreciate my smile," Gambit replied, raising his eyebrows suggestively at the female dealer distributing cards.
The dealer wasn't one of those overtly sexualized croupiers often depicted on scam websites—just a woman somewhat prettier than the average passerby. After witnessing Gambit's eyebrow raise, she pointedly ignored him, instead asking Richard and another gambler if they wished to continue playing.
Clearly, she wasn't the type to be swayed by Gambit's slick demeanor.
Richard nodded, signaling for the game to proceed. The other gambler did likewise.
After realizing that neither Richard nor the dealer was impressed by his charm, the King of Cards tossed his chips into the pot and rejoined the game.
As with previous hands, Richard abstained from using his powers. Though uncertain whether Gambit was employing his abilities, Richard had no intention of cheating in such an inconsequential card game.
Time ticked away gradually. Less than twenty minutes passed before the third gambler lost all his chips, leaving only Richard and the King of Cards betting against each other.
With just the two of them remaining at the table, Gambit suddenly asked, "You also received an invitation?"
Invitation?
Could he mean from the Hellfire Club?
Upon hearing Gambit mention an invitation, Richard's thoughts immediately jumped to the Hellfire Club. This was partly because the system had just referenced the organization in its mission, and partly because he recalled that in certain adaptations, the Hellfire Club maintained a secret base in Las Vegas.
Had Gambit lacked mental shielding abilities, Richard would have instantly used telepathy to extract the information. Unfortunately, the King of Cards possessed precisely that defense.
Though unable to confirm the nature of the invitation, Richard displayed neither surprise nor curiosity, responding coolly:
"I don't believe I need to tell you anything."
Gambit's tone sharpened, laced with clear displeasure.
"Boy, did I offend you somehow? A little too much arrogance for someone your age."
Richard barely looked at him.
"Does staying calm still make me young?" he replied coolly, flicking his cards to the dealer — folding without hesitation.
The King of Cards narrowed his eyes, irritation flashing before he masked it with a smirk.
"If you're really that confident… why not take off the hat and sunglasses?"
On the surface, this seemed like simple provocation. But Richard understood that Gambit wasn't merely goading him—he had recognized Richard. Though Gambit couldn't detect telepathic intrusion and could only shield his mind, that didn't mean he couldn't identify Richard by other means.
"You lack the qualifications to ask me to remove anything," Richard stated flatly.
"Let's not debate qualifications. I just know that if I say a particular name, I can cause significant trouble for you," Gambit replied swiftly.
"If you have something to say, say it," Richard challenged. "Though I should mention one thing—after you finish speaking, the person in serious trouble won't be me. It'll be you." He picked up a chip and tossed it into the center of the table. "Don't believe me? Try it."
If his abilities permitted, Gambit would have gladly taught Richard a lesson in respecting elders. Unfortunately, he lacked the necessary power for such an endeavor.
While confident in his own abilities, he wasn't arrogant enough to believe he could handle Richard in a confrontation. Before arriving at the casino, he'd reviewed reports of Richard's battle with Hulk and watched bystander videos online.
Though not present at the scene, after witnessing those recordings—especially seeing Richard summon a meteorite against Hulk—Gambit understood he could never match Richard. In his assessment, Richard could easily level an entire city simply by calling down meteorites.
Gambit didn't consider himself weak, but he wasn't foolish enough to think he could defeat Richard.
Regarding the obstinate young man before him, Gambit picked up a round chip and rolled it between the fingers of his right hand. After a few seconds of tense silence, he conceded:
"Seems today isn't ideal for high-stakes gambling. Take your time."
With that, the King of Cards gathered his chips, stood, and left the table.
Richard remained indifferent to whether Gambit intended to find another table or exit the casino entirely. After Gambit's departure, he remained seated for several minutes.
When it became apparent that no one else would challenge him, he sighed resignedly, collected his chips, and proceeded to the cashier to exchange them for currency.
Afterward, he departed the casino with over $100,000 in cash.
Caesars Palace Hotel
After leaving the casino, Richard headed directly to the renowned Caesars Palace Hotel and checked in.
Though his S-class wanted status with the Department of Mutant Affairs prevented him from providing legal identification to the front desk personnel, this posed minimal difficulty. A subtle application of telepathy was all it took for the blonde receptionist—dressed in a fitted black outfit that accentuated her elegant curves—to use her own credentials to register him.
Additionally, when the attractive receptionist handed him the room key card, she slipped him her business card as well.
"I finish at six," she whispered, her voice low enough for only them to hear. "And I have tomorrow and the day after off."
Despite the receptionist's considerable attractiveness—easily a seven out of ten—Richard had no intention of pursuing further conversation with her.
This was the Marvel Universe, after all!
If one were to engage in profound discussions about the origin of life with the opposite sex, it should at minimum involve renowned female heroes or villains. One should follow Tony Stark's example—relationships with celebrities, supermodels, famous journalists, and magazine cover models—rather than settle for a receptionist who, while pretty, lacked both extraordinary beauty and the advantage of status.
Richard entered the recently renovated business suite, settled onto the living room sofa, and contemplated the mission to rescue Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver.
Though the system had issued the directive, it provided no detailed intelligence.
He currently possessed only two pieces of information: first, that Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver were captives of the Hellfire Club, and second, that the invitation Gambit mentioned might have originated from the Hellfire Club.
...
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