Chapter Text
It would seem that Aventurine had forgotten to draw his blackout curtains over the window after a long night of celebrating his victory. The next day, he woke up to the hot midday sun beaming right into his eyes. He sits up and rubs his aching head, trying to recount details from last night as he grabs his phone off the nightstand. There's a notification on his phone from his news app.
"Great, again?"
He frowns and skims the report from the Las Vegas Review Journal until he finds the interesting information:
With the World Series of Poker currently running in Las Vegas, competitors are coming from far and wide to test their skills against some of the best poker players in the world. Tonight, a match between the up-and-coming player Aventurine and the all-star William Moore has left locals at the Refuge Hotel speechless after the cocky rookie went all-in on a hand with a 2 and a 7. Despite these odds, Aventurine secured victory with three-of-a-kind against Moore's king and ace pair.
Spectators and even authorities on the scene are looking into this case. Was it a stroke of beginner's luck? Or is there more to it than meets the eye? Investigators have come up empty-handed, and hotel staff assure that there are no indications of any payoffs. Time will tell if the rookie's luck will continue to hold, or if something bigger is at play, it will come to light.
Current investigators have come up empty-handed. They've looked into behind-the-scenes bribery, threats, or anything else that may be at play. However, there's been no luck.
"Our investigation hasn't brought anything new to light," reports the lead investigator on this case. "Rest assured, if there is something going on behind the scenes, it will come to light."
Aventurine turns off his phone, tossing it aside.
"Seriously, what’s that guy's problem?"
It would be different if this were the first article published by the Review-Journal that talked poorly about him or painted him in a suspicious light. Since getting here, every article about him has had something to do with his "suspicious amount of luck" and investigations into "behind the scenes bribery". It was all irritating, especially with the increase in invasive questions from the police. He checks the author of this article.
Veritas Ratio.
Again. Of course. He was the one who'd been writing all of these articles. It was like he had his own personal beef with Aventurine despite never having met him. This, however, wasn't the case. Ratio had never met Aventurine, had nothing against him, and was just following orders. Increasingly suspicious orders.
"Hello?" Ratio answers the phone call from his boss.
"Ratio, how have you been?"
"Good, and you?" Ratio pulls out his notepad and pen, prepared to take notes if needed. He sets his coffee on the table next to him in the souvenir shop where he was. He had just been browsing to see if there was anything worth bringing back.
"Never better. I just wanted to praise you for your work on your most recent article."
"Thank you, ma'am. If I may, though, I have a proposal."
"Sure, go ahead."
"There seems to be police activity at the Refuge. I've seen officers moving in and out of the hotel the whole time I've been here. These officers have no relation to venue security, event security, or even investigating Aventurine."
"Hm? Are you concerned for your safety?"
"Not that, as much as I am curious. They seem to be investigating something else. As a news outlet—"
"Ratio, we're not getting paid to report on whatever they're investigating. We're getting paid to report on the tournament and its competitors."
"It feels less like news and more like slander."
"You like working for the Review-Journal, no?"
"I do."
"Then keep reporting on what I tell you to. And make sure to keep slandering Aventurine."
"Ma'am, can I ask why I have to slander that gambler?"
"It's a request of a big sponsor."
"Right. Okay. No further questions."
When his boss hangs up, he sighs. There was definitely something bigger at play here. It all felt incredibly suspicious, not to mention shady. When he had joined the Review-Journal, he had wanted to report on the news, not slander. The reason why he stuck around was that he knew he'd be getting promoted soon. He was the most qualified to take over when the boss quit. Then he could run things his way.
Looking through the souvenirs, he picks up one of those souvenir Swiss Army knives with names printed on them. Humoring himself, he checks the V section. Of course, they didn't have Veritas; they never did. He picks up one that says "Las Vegas" and walks to the register to purchase it. He figured he'd get something to commemorate his upcoming promotion.
The next match he was supposed to report on was later that night, so he had the rest of the day to kill. On the way back to his room, he sees a few officers. They were still snooping around, though very subtly. It was easy to mistake them for event security, but they had no interest in the guests.
"Can I help you?" An officer had caught Ratio staring.
"I work for the Las Vegas Review-Journal. I was wondering if I could inquire about your investigation. Are you investigating Aventurine?"
"We're not doing interviews at this time. Please move along, sir."
"Right."
Ratio decides not to pry. He keeps walking to his hotel room, still unsure about the whole reaction. Were they investigating that gambler? Or was it something else? And if it was something else, why were they keeping it so secret?
Getting back to his room, Ratio sighs. No matter where he went, he felt like a low-level employee or just some civilian. It was frustrating for someone so determined to find the truth. He opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of white wine. He figured he'd indulge a little, at least before Aventurine's next match. One good thing about the Swiss Army knife he bought was that it had a bottle opener.