Chapter 4: The Patch

The town’s night was especially quiet. I stood at the window, lit a Newport cigarette, and recalled the dealer’s rules. The streetlights cast long shadows across the colonial facades, the smell of autumn leaves drifting in.

Snake Vance is cunning and untrustworthy, but the game does favor numbers. The odds were stacked, but not impossible. I could feel the chill of risk in my bones.

But surely the dealer knows about this obvious loophole? The organizers never leave things to chance. They patch every gap, always one step ahead.

Of course they do. They’re not amateurs. This is America—every loophole is a trap.

From experience, the more obvious the loophole, the more dangerous the trap. The dealer must have set up a patch—a true path to victory.

I took a deep drag, pulled out my old Sony voice recorder, and replayed the dealer’s mechanical explanation. The words felt heavy, loaded with hidden meaning, each syllable a clue.

These scripts are meticulously prepared—no wasted words. This time, I came prepared. The stakes were too high for mistakes. I poured myself another cup of coffee, cold pizza waiting on the desk.

I was sure the patch was hidden in those words. The clues were there, if I could find them.

I replayed the recording four times, analyzing every word. The hum of the fridge and the ticking of my watch kept time, grounding me in the moment.

I found two major points of doubt.

First, the Black Ram card.

According to the dealer, the Black Ram card can be exchanged for ten coins. It’s like a cheat code—a wildcard in a deck stacked against you.

But you need to trigger a hidden task to get it. The catch was obvious, and the risk was real.

And hidden tasks are random, requiring luck and insight. The kind of thing Snake Vance would ignore—he wants control, not chance.

Snake Vance didn’t care much about the Black Ram card; relying on luck isn’t his style. He likes control, not chance. His playbook is all numbers and leverage.

But since the dealer emphasized insight, there must be clues—if you observe carefully, you can find the hidden task. I was determined to look deeper, refusing to miss the details.

Second, the Black Ram shop at the top of the clock tower—a strange setup. The clock tower loomed over the town like a silent judge, its face glowing in the night.

It has two functions: exchange cards for coins, and sell helpful items for tasks.

At first glance, nothing odd, but think deeper—these two functions seem pointless.

First, exchanging cards for coins could be done at the house after the game. Why bother with a shop in the west end? Unnecessary. The inconvenience was intentional, a red flag waving.

Selling helpful items is even more absurd. In this game, coins are worth $10,000 each. If the cheapest item is one coin, who’d spend $10,000 on a tool? The math didn’t add up, not in any real-world scenario.

Plus, the initial 50 coins are borrowed—you have to return them. If you don’t, it’s debt. No one likes debt, especially gamblers. The American way is risk, but not foolishness.

I bet most players won’t dare touch those 50 coins, let alone spend them. The risk was too great, the fear of debt overwhelming.

Imagining players clutching their wallets, I couldn’t help but laugh. The irony was rich, like watching a poker table freeze at a big bet.

So, the 50-coin advance seems pointless. Or was it?

Pointless?

I squinted. The answer was just out of reach, the puzzle pieces scattering.

Why would the dealer advance 50 coins, knowing players won’t spend them?

Or, why does the designer insist on advancing coins?

If you remove the advance, you can’t...

Trigger the hidden task!

My eyes snapped open—a flash of insight illuminated all the overlooked corners in my mind. The pieces clicked into place, my heart pounding.

So that’s it!

All the unexplained oddities, the strange setups, rolled around in my mind, finally forming a clear thread. The solution was hidden in plain sight, just waiting for the brave to grab it.

Why advance coins? Because they want players to spend them.

Spending coins is the key to triggering the hidden task. The risk is the path. The American way—fortune favors the bold.

But obviously, no one wants to risk debt. Human nature resists it. The system is designed to weed out the cautious.

The game’s setup goes against human nature.

Hence the seemingly useless Black Ram shop.

Once I figured this out, everything became clear. Like a blocked artery suddenly cleared, all difficulties resolved. The thrill of discovery surged through me, adrenaline making my hands shake.

I flicked my cigarette ash, excited for tomorrow. The night felt less cold, the hope returning.

If I’m right, the Black Ram shop must hold the answer I need. The next day couldn’t come fast enough.

To beat Snake Vance, triggering the hidden task and getting the Black Ram card is my only chance. The path was risky, but it was mine.

This round, I’ve found the patch for the loophole. The game was back in my hands. Tomorrow, I’d risk everything. The game was just beginning.