"Hey, George! Look over there!" A man with a drinker's red nose nudged his companion's shoulder, his breath reeking of booze. "Those guys-what a creepy bunch! Wheeling an old woman in here to gamble?"
"Shut your filthy mouth!" The gaunt man called George abruptly paled and clamped a hand around his companion's arm, keeping his voice extremely low. "Don't drag me down with you if you want to die!"
His reaction startled his companion, sobering him up a little. "Wh-what's wrong? Aren't you always bragging that there's nobody you don't know in any casino in the Canal District? 'George the well-informed'?"
"It's fucking because I've seen so much!" George glanced nervously at the trio in the distance, his throat dry. "That I know who to stay away from!"
"What's wrong?" His companion was somewhat surprised. Seeing George's solemn expression, he lowered his voice too.
His eyes shifted, and he whispered, "Could it be-they're the legendary supernatural people?"
"I don't know if they're supernatural people, but they're definitely dangerous types we can't afford to cross!"
"How do you know?"
"Hmph-" George looked around, then mysteriously hooked an arm around his companion's shoulders. "Ever heard of that old gambling addict Hayek?"
"The one they call the God of Gambling? Of course! They all say he's got an invisible hand that can secretly turn your dice!"
"What God of Gambling? He's just a hopeless gambling addict. A casino caught him cheating and cut off one of his fingers. Ever since then, he's lost his nerve. He doesn't even dare set foot in a casino!"
George sneered. "If he'd kept coming back to gamble, I'd actually respect him. By then, he could probably have been called 'Hayek the Nine-Fingered.'"
"So, do you understand now?"
"Un-understand what?" His companion still looked baffled.
"Look at that