Chapter One: The Last Coin

Warehouse Nine lay beneath an abandoned cold-storage facility in the old port. No sign marked the entrance, only a green lamp. Downstairs, damp air carried smoke, sweat, and the oily-ink smell of handled cash. Seven people sat around a circular table. There were no cards, only seven black cups turned upside down. The host was Cheng Ye, a scar cutting through his left eyebrow. He glanced at Zhou Lin's album. “You look like her. Pity you're eighteen years late.” “You sent the message?” “Sit. Win, and I give you a lead. Lose, and the coin stays here.” Zhou Lin remained standing. “Rules?” Each round, players secretly placed any portion of their money beneath their own cup, including nothing, then selected someone else's cup.