Chapter Eleven Kasu #2
The other gamblers jeered, but Kasu didn’t find anything amusing about Hanyu’s desperation.
She had seen the same thing in other patrons who came to Camellia House: the same fanatical belief that somehow, some way, things would work out for them.
The next throw would win back all their losses.
The next game would make them rich and happy.
The reincarnation wheel would give them another shot at life.
It was the kind of dog-blind faith that was only born from being out of options. When you could only hope for a better tomorrow because hope was all you had left.
Ridiculous, Kasu thought. If someone had to put their trust in anything, it should be the Heavenly Principles. The gods were infallible and the heavens were constant. No one could go wrong with the Heavenly Principles as their guide.
Arun was moving his pieces across the board, his attention once more on the game.
One by one, the other ghosts at the table surrendered, and Arun’s pile of chips steadily grew.
If he was cheating, Kasu couldn’t tell. Neither could the other ghosts, judging by the way Hanyu kept grinding his teeth.
With each turn that passed, his breathing became shorter and his motions more erratic.
He snapped at the servers to bring him another cup of spirit nectar and chucked a handful of gambling tiles onto the board from his own dwindling pile.
“Perhaps our honoured guest has had enough for the day,” Kasu murmured.
“Yes, Hanyu, maybe you should quit before I take everything you have.” Arun smirked.
“I was speaking of the young gentleman,” she said, tightly.
“Me?” said Arun.
“You have won enough, haven’t you?”
“No! Keep going!” Hanyu banged his fist against the table and threw down his last stack of tiles. “I’m all in! I bet everything I have on this game!”
“Fine, but don’t whine when you lose.” Arun matched his bet.
The game began anew.
Coloured stone pieces clattered against the board. With every turn, Hanyu grew more incensed. His moves grew more reckless, his breaths sharper. His leg bounced up and down as he waited for his next turn. As the game continued, it became clear to Kasu that Arun was going to emerge victorious.
It was becoming clear to Hanyu too.
“I win.” Arun placed his final stone in the heart of Hanyu’s territory.
“You’re cheating!” the ghost roared.
Leaning back on his chair with a self-satisfied look, Arun snorted. “And how would you know that? When I was young, I saved a carp that was dying. I gave it a bucket of water, and it blessed me with a thousand years of good luck.”
The ghost swept his arm across the table, scattering tiles everywhere. “You damn brat, I’ll kill you!” His eyes flashed with rage, though his fury only made the crowd hoot and jeer at him even more.
A wordless yell tore itself from Hanyu’s throat. He grabbed the side of the table, upending it and sending the coloured stones cascading across the floor. The dog demon next to Kasu drew his sword, but before he could push his way forward, Hanyu spun around.
His pupils had rolled to the back of his head, leaving only the whites visible. When he exhaled, smoke escaped from his mouth.
The rest of the crowd took a sharp step backwards.
“Get away from him!” Kasu grabbed Arun by the arm and pulled him aside.
“What’s going on?”
“He’s turning into a hungry ghost!”
It was rare to see someone transform in this way.
Sometimes, when a person had suffered a particularly violent or gruesome death, they would arrive in the under-realm as a hungry ghost, filled with an anger and resentment so strong they couldn’t move on.
They were feral things, more beast than human, and with a tendency to attack anything that moved.
If they were lucky, over the years they would mellow and return to their senses, though they would have no memory of their time before.
It was unusual for someone already in full possession of their wits to turn into a hungry ghost. It felt unnatural. Like a reversal of the normal process.
The guards rushed forward, swords drawn, and surrounded Hanyu.
The ghost swiped a hand at them, catching a dog demon on the muzzle.
Blood splattered across the floorboards.
The guards bayed like a pack of wolves and pressed close, but with every second that passed Hanyu’s body became more monstrous.
His limbs were jagged, and his hands had been replaced with sharp, thorny claws.
Dark, oily feathers erupted from his back, crooked and broken, as if someone had taken a human and a crow and tried to beat them together with a hammer.
“We need to leave!” Kasu tugged at Arun’s sleeve, but he refused to budge.
“Did I do this? Did I make him—”
“No! Do you think we turn feral at the slightest inconvenience? It takes more than a few bad days to turn us into this.” If it didn’t, ghosts would be transforming into monsters left and right, especially with the way some of their demon masters treated them.
Still, Arun would not move.
“What is this disturbance?” A voice floated through the gambling hall.
Like a shock wave rippling outward, every ghost and demon in the hall fell to their hands and knees in a terrified bow. Kasu swiftly followed the rest, pulling Arun down with her as she pressed her forehead to the ground.
Lady Camellia, the demon ruler of the southern district and the owner of Camellia House, had arrived.