SOP CH4: Bringing a Wolf into the House

Diamonds brought a young man of unknown origin back to Poker Bar.

The bar was filled with an atmosphere of sheer astonishment as Madam Spades, Hearts, and the snow leopard gathered on the ground floor, scrutinizing the young man. He was tall and slender, with a fresh, handsome face, his gray pupils brimmed with bewilderment. He stood there like a slab of granite, uttering not a single word.

“Where did you pick up such a handsome lad?” Madam Spades asked Diamonds.

“The scrapyard.”

The young man stood rooted to the spot in a daze. No matter how the others questioned him, he merely shook his head blankly. Diamonds had previously brought him to the “Super Cheap Clinic,” but the goateed doctor told him the young man’s head had suffered a heavy blow. The cranial chip was damaged, leaving not a shred of memory behind. A craniotomy was an enormous expense and carried significant risk; seeing that his motor functions were unaffected, Diamonds decided to let him remain in his brain-addled state for the time being.

Hearts pulled Diamonds to the side and whispered, “Hey, Diamonds, this person’s background is somewhat suspicious…”

Diamonds blinked. “Boss, are you trying to say he looks like that time cleaner? Similar build, and the timing of his appearance is too coincidental.”

Without waiting for Hearts to press further, he continued, “Except his head was busted by a signboard. Would the chief cleaner of the Time Entropy Group really get knocked silly by a measly signboard?”

Hearts fell into deep thought. Having crossed paths with the cleaner before, he knew the young man before them indeed possessed the exact same build and eyes as the cleaner, but he carried not an ounce of killing intent, appearing as meek as a lamb.

“True. If his head was busted just like that, I find it too bizarre as well. Rumor has it that cleaners have heads of bronze and arms of iron, able to lift a car with one hand and smash through steel plates with their skulls.”

Diamonds suddenly felt a tug at his sleeve. Looking up, he saw the young man standing beside him, asking in a low voice:

“Did you know… the past me?”

“Of course. You’re an employee of our bar. For years you loitered in the outside world of wine and roses, staying out for an entire decade. If I hadn’t gone and brought you back, you’d still be indulging in debauchery on the streets today,” Diamonds spun a bald-faced lie without batting an eye.

The snow leopard swiped at him with a paw. “Damn Diamonds, don’t you just want to get out of the cleanup work? What’s the big deal about hanging a few signboards that you had to abduct a person back here?”

“Still, it’s too dangerous,” Hearts whispered into Diamonds’s ear. “Even if he isn’t the cleaner, if he’s a spy trying to pry into Clepsydra’s secrets, keeping him by our side will become a mortal danger sooner or later.”

Diamonds, however, wore a completely nonchalant expression. “Boss, your head is far too pedantic. Clepsydra’s headquarters aren’t even here, and we’re completely clean with no secrets to hide. So what if he is the cleaner? That just means we can use him as a hostage, or slowly tame him and turn him to our side.” Hearts was left utterly speechless.

Amidst the silence, Madam Spades clapped her hands, delivering the final verdict: “Enough, let him stay. The lower tier is short-handed right now, and we happen to lack a waiter anyway. After all, Diamonds works in fits and starts, never doing an honest day’s work in the bar, does he?”

“Then give him a name, otherwise it’s terribly inconvenient.”

“Call him Nine of Diamonds.”

“No way, that sounds like a minion exclusively belonging to you.”

Shoving both hands into his pockets, Diamonds said languidly, “I was the one who picked him up, why can’t he be my little underling? Our bar already has Spades, Hearts, Clubs, and Diamonds. How about he becomes the Joker?”

Before his voice could fade, he felt a sharp pain in his face, having caught a direct punch. Diamonds went flying, crashing into a row of tables and chairs. The one who threw the punch was the amnesiac youth. Clutching his face, Diamonds sprang up, shedding his lazy demeanor, and yelled:

“What are you doing!”

The young man said expressionlessly, “You lied to me. You don’t even know my name, you’re not my keeper at all, and you’re mocking me.”

Diamonds looked around the room, only to see the others wearing teasing expressions. “Why are you all completely indifferent to this violence right before your eyes?”

“Because you usually deserve a good beating anyway.”

Madam Spades took a leisurely sip of her drink. “Young man, please excuse him. This kid is nothing but a slick-tongued swindler. But if you have nowhere to go, you can treat this place as a home for now. As you can see, plenty of bad seeds like Diamonds wander the lower tier. Some will set their sights on your organs, while others will want to sell you into slavery. Loitering outside makes you a fat sheep in their eyes. While we aren’t entirely innocent in everything we do, we carry some weight in the lower tier, and we can still afford a proper wage.”

Madam Spades spoke with refined gentleness, her voice as soothing as warm sunlight, putting one’s mind at ease. The young man lowered his head, hesitated for a long while, and gave a faint nod.

“Diamonds, it’s getting late. Take this newcomer back to your room and settle him in,” Madam Spades instructed.

Diamonds’s expression froze.

“There are no spare rooms here. Hearts and Clubs Cat are already squeezed into one, and at my age, I can’t bear your endless bickering. We can’t very well make a new employee rough it out on the ground-floor chairs overnight, can we?”

Diamonds sneered, “There’s barely any space in my room either, nothing compared to the comfort of everyone else’s.”

“What does that matter? You brought him back, so naturally he’s closest to you. Sharing a room with you is no problem at all. Stop talking back, you slippery brat, or I’ll throw you out of the bar.”

Under Madam Spades’s threat, Diamonds was left with no choice but to lead the young man up to his room in a muddle. The young man surveyed the room and offered a succinct evaluation:

“Cramped.”

“You really push your luck, don’t you? Giving you shelter is generous enough, yet you still want to walk all over me.” Diamonds dragged a large cardboard box to the corner of the wall and gave it a rudimentary fix-up. “You sleep here tonight. This is your supreme Italian silk bed.”

Before he could finish speaking, the young man punched him right into the cardboard box. Diamonds climbed out sporting a bruised eye. “What kind of fit are you throwing now?”

“You are abusing an employee.”

“How am I abusing you? Clearly the employee is abusing the boss right now.”

“I am fighting for an employee’s legitimate rights, black-hearted boss.”

“I’m neither black-hearted nor red-hearted, I’m Diamonds. You can see for yourself, my room is the size of a tofu block. Where else do you want to sleep, the ceiling or under the bed?” Diamonds shrugged. “Fine, to show our spirit of equality, from now on we’ll take turns sleeping on the bed and in the box.”

Only then did the young man let the matter drop, stating in a flat tone, “Thank you, boss.”

He looked around the room: the Mauser pistol, scattered shell casings, old newspapers on the wall, and the calendar marked “Year 2026.” Every single one of these things gave him a splitting headache, feeling uncannily familiar. Who was he, and why had he appeared in that scrapyard? Quicksand’s gaze drifted, landing on Diamonds’s face.

Diamonds sat on the edge of the bed, wiping down his gun with oil using one hand, the sling supporting his fractured arm still hanging from his neck. He had upturned phoenix eyes, the corners of his mouth always holding a smile brimming with unfathomable thoughts. His features were handsome and striking, like a sketch drawn with effortless brushstrokes.

Memories of brawling with this person flashed through Quicksand’s mind for an instant, like small awls stabbing into his temples, making him groan aloud.

“What’s wrong?” Diamonds looked up.

“I want to ask… why did you bring me here?”

“As you can see, I was injured recently and can’t do much heavy lifting, but the repair work in the lower tier has piled up into mountains, so I went to find a helper. Honestly, I originally planned to just grab a random kid, but when I saw you, I figured you’d do; you’re far stronger and healthier than they are.” Diamonds touched his bruised eye, grimacing in pain.

Quicksand’s gaze shifted to the photo frame by the bedside table. “What is that?”

Inside the frame was a yellowed group photo: an elderly woman in a black veil, a burly giant, a sleek-furred snow leopard, and a boy in a white suit, holding down his top hat very low, looking like a miniature version of Diamonds. Everyone was laughing heartily. Gazing at the photograph, Diamonds said reminiscingly:

“It’s a group photo of the bar’s staff.”

Quicksand’s gaze lingered on the boy’s face. Time was truly a curious thing; such a bright and innocent boy had been eroded and polished by the years into the glib-tongued fraudster before him. His mind was in utter chaos. He didn’t know who Diamonds truly was: just a con artist who abducted him here to do heavy manual labor? The moment he saw Diamonds in the scrapyard, he felt his whole body tighten and his spirits surge, a voice crying out in his mind: Go with him! But that voice would subsequently turn tumultuous and terrifying, eventually becoming: Tear him apart! Kill him!

Quicksand closed his eyes, calming his emotions. He sat idly in the cardboard box for a while, gradually growing bored, and lifted his sleeveless black vest.

Diamonds cast a sidelong glance at him. “What are you doing? Showing off your abs to me?”

Faint colored lights shone through the window, washing over the young man’s body like flowing water. Diamonds beheld a lean, muscular physique crisscrossed with pale scars, resembling mysterious Sanskrit characters, proof of surviving a hundred battles. Diamonds narrowed his eyes, but made no sound.

Quicksand said, “I am going to sleep. Please provide the employee pajamas.”

Diamonds scoffed, “Arranging a uniform for you is already enough; I’ve never heard of providing pajamas too.”

“I was in the dump before. You wouldn’t want to see me lying in your bed tomorrow wearing these clothes.”

Diamonds sneered, “Why are you such a black-hearted employee?”

Without any inflection in his tone, sounding remarkably like a machine that could only emit sound, Quicksand said, “I’m neither black-hearted nor red-hearted, I am the Joker.”

Diamonds buried his face in his hands, letting out a deep sigh. He somewhat regretted picking this person up. When he first saw the youth, he only thought the other was young and strong, good material for labor, never expecting him to put on such airs. He rummaged through the wardrobe for a while, but almost all the pajamas he found were a size too small for Quicksand. Having reached a dead end, he went and knocked on Hearts’s door.

Hearts answered. He wore a tight white T-shirt featuring a line drawing of a girl wearing a flower crown, paired with kitten-patterned pajama pants, creating a hilarious mismatch with his rugged exterior. “What’s wrong, Diamonds?”

Diamonds explained his purpose, and Hearts roared with laughter, leading him to his own wardrobe. Diamonds opened the closet, only to find it packed with pink bubble skirts, polka-dot aprons, and bow-tie burnout pants, looking for all the world like a children’s clothing display. In the end, he reluctantly picked out a pair of star-patterned pajamas with lace trim, returned to his room, and tossed them to Quicksand.

“Put them on, black-hearted employee.”

Without a word, Quicksand picked them up and put them on. Because Hearts had a massive build, the pajamas actually looked loose on him. After changing, he folded his old clothes into a neat, tofu-like square, placed them in the corner, and lay down, curling up inside the box. The moment he closed his eyes, he fell fast asleep.

Diamonds gazed at his peaceful sleeping face with a complex expression. He had thought he was picking up a stray dog, but now it seemed this person was more like an ungrateful wolf ready to bite back at any moment. He sighed, switched off the light, and let the darkness envelop him.

Early the next morning, Madam Spades handed a waiter’s uniform to Quicksand: a gray shirt, suspender apron, and a pair of leather boots. They accentuated the young man’s tall, lean, and crisp silhouette. Simply standing in the shop, he was a living signboard for attracting customers.

That night, a continuous stream of guests poured into the bar. The female patrons swarmed around Quicksand like bees finding honey, teasing and flirting with him. Quicksand had soft gray hair, and his pale gray pupils, like clear glass, shone with a subtle luster. Many leaned in and brushed up against him, but Quicksand remained wooden, standing firmly in place like an unmoved stone monument. Someone laughed and asked Madam Spades, “Madam, where did you find such a handsome guy? Will we be able to see him here in the future?”

Madam Spades smiled. “He is our newly recruited employee. If you all like him, we’ll assign him to the night shift.”

Sitting by the bar counter, Diamonds smiled at several regular female patrons. “Little jiejie, you’re all truly fickle. Did you forget your old flame the moment you found a new favorite? Could it be that I’m so unsightly I can’t catch your eye? I never see you flocking to me with such wholehearted devotion.”

One female patron covered her mouth, giggling softly. “You’re not bad either, but you only know how to sweet-talk. Nowadays, when we look at people, we value inner substance.”

Diamonds thought to himself, “His brain is a complete blank, what substance could he possibly have?”

Yet aside from serving as a signboard, Quicksand’s movements were exceptionally brisk: ushering in guests, serving food, wiping tables and chairs, moving as swiftly as the wind. After watching him work for over ten consecutive days, Madam Spades was extremely pleased and said to Diamonds, “Look at this newcomer, he’s worth ten of you. You veteran slacker don’t need to work tomorrow; just pack your bags and go.”

“Madam, you’re wrong about that. I’m different from that kid; I handle big business, and I can provide emotional value to everyone,” Diamonds said, clinking glasses affectionately with Madam Spades.

“Indeed, the emotion you provide everyone with is pure fury,” Madam Spades turned away coldly. “Since you’re injured, rest in the bar for now. I’m heading out to check on the repair progress, and Hearts isn’t here either, so I’ll trouble you and the newcomer to watch the place.”

Diamonds gave an affirmative grunt, lowering his head to sip his drink.

Few customers came during the day, mostly idle drunks who mumbled into their tables once intoxicated. Quicksand was wiping down a table when he suddenly heard a crisp sound of shattering glass.

He turned his head to see a drunken man throwing a punch at another, shouting and yelling as a table overturned and glasses shattered.

Before the punch could land, Quicksand had already flashed to the man’s side like a shadow, seizing his wrist and asking without any expression:

“Sir, what is the matter?”

“He… he cheated while shuffling the cards!”

Quicksand glanced at the items scattered on the floor; there were no playing cards. “You are quite the expert, sir. Were you playing blackjack with drink coasters?”

The drunk scrambled up, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. “You… you’re covering for… him! You’re in cahoots!” He pulled a sharp dagger from his breast pocket and gripped it tightly.

The lower tier was chaotic, and people frequently carried deadly weapons. Seeing this, the other patrons nearly jumped out of their skins, screaming as they fled. The drunk brandished the dagger and lunged at Quicksand. Just at that moment, an ice bucket slammed heavily onto his face.

The drunk crashed down, his nose bruised and bleeding. He scrambled up, roaring, “What do you think you’re doing!”

Quicksand looked down on him from above. “Providing you with top-tier ice-adding service to help you sober up.”

Although that strike sobered the drunk up halfway, a wave of resentment surged forth. Grasping the fallen dagger nearby, he let out an enraged roar and charged once more.

Quicksand’s gaze chilled. Suddenly, a fierce killing intent wrapped around his body. Even with his memories lost, his predatory instincts for slaughter still roared within him like a wild beast. He flattened his hand like a blade, slashing toward the man’s carotid sinus.

He struck as fast as lightning. Though the drunk couldn’t react in time, his hair stood on end from pure instinct.

Just as blood was about to splatter across the room, someone suddenly wedged themselves between them.

The dagger swung by the drunk struck a splint, while Quicksand’s wrist was firmly pinned down. Startled, both men turned their heads to look, only to see a young man with platinum-blonde hair smiling beside them, saying:

“Stop fighting. Fighting like this will get someone killed. Since you two have so much energy, why don’t you have a dance-off in the bar tonight? A pole dance battle.”

Quicksand was astonished.

He knew the speed and power of his strikes. Ordinary people could barely track his movements, and rashly attempting to intercept him would result in broken bones. Yet Diamonds had neutralized his offensive with effortless ease. This seemingly idle youth possessed extraordinary martial skill.

“Are you… in cahoots with them too? All cheating scoundrels?” Completely oblivious to the lethal danger he had just narrowly escaped, the drunk continued his relentless badgering.

“Sir, I can’t understand what you’re saying. Will I understand once I get as dead drunk as you?” Diamonds sighed, shaking his head. “Making trouble here isn’t a good idea. Look above your head.”

The drunk looked up, only to see an ice pick suspended above him, its sharp point frozen in mid-air by a stasis bubble. Once the bubble burst, the sharp tool would drop straight down, piercing clean through a person’s skull.

Diamonds flashed a triumphant smirk. “If you keep pestering us, the Sword of Damocles is going to fall.”

In the end, the drunk fled in disgrace. Having sobered up, he seemed to finally recall what a dragon’s den and tiger’s lair Poker Bar truly was, where everyone inside was an eccentric not to be trifled with.

Once it was all over, Diamonds comforted the battered patron, then painstakingly tidied up the overturned table and glass shards.

Quicksand stood quietly to the side, his gaze resting on Diamonds. Not needing to go out to work or swindle people today, Diamonds wasn’t wearing his flashy outfit, clad only in a red shirt with the sling supporting his fractured arm hanging from his neck, making his frame look slender. The diamond stud beneath his eye, like a drop of blood, added a touch of mystery to him. His smile was merely surface-level, neither entirely fake nor completely sincere, serving as a mask-like ornament. Quicksand spoke up and asked:

“Who are you? Why were you able to intercept my attack just now?”

Straightening his posture, Diamonds arched an eyebrow. “Then who are you? What makes you think I couldn’t intercept your attack?”

Quicksand fell silent; he didn’t know the answer to that question himself.

Diamonds said, “As for me, I am your black-hearted boss. Here is your daily wage.”

Pulling out his phone, he walked up to Quicksand. Quicksand felt his wristwatch vibrate softly. This watch was a temporary terminal Madam Spades had given him. When Quicksand was picked up, he had nothing to his name and couldn’t even remember his own time account. Fortunately, Madam Spades had seen plenty of undocumented residents in the lower tier and knew how to handle it, setting up a temporary account for Quicksand to use for the time being.

Looking at his watch now, Quicksand saw that Diamonds had transferred two hours of lifespan to him; this was his wage for today.

Quicksand was silent for a long while before speaking, “There must be a mistake.”

Diamonds patted his shoulder. “No mistake. That’s what work is: wasting your life to earn meager supplies to sustain your life, which is inherently a waste of life.”

“This little bit of time isn’t even enough for me to survive until tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t know where my tomorrow is either; life is pitch-black, after all.”

Quicksand grabbed him by the throat, issuing a frigid threat, “Dare to withhold my wages, and I’ll make sure you don’t have a tomorrow.”

Though still smiling, Diamonds tilted his chin up, showing a touch of stubborn defiance. “Bringing you back here was like choosing to roll on a bed of nails. Who’s afraid of whom? At worst, we’ll perish together!”

Just as the two were bickering, Madam Spades entered through the door. Seeing the mess on the floor, she pieced together most of the truth in her mind and sighed, “You two, give it a rest. Diamonds, why are you picking a fight with the newcomer? If you have free time, come drink your medicine.”

Those words acted like a tightening curse, instantly choking off Diamonds’s voice. Letting out a soft huff, he turned and walked up the stairs. Madam Spades gestured for Quicksand to come over and transferred forty-eight hours of time to him.

Quicksand stared blankly at the time balance on his watch. Forty-eight hours, neither too much nor too little, yet it caused a unique emotion to sprout in his heart, perhaps delight. This was the fruit of his labor, and seemed like proof of being accepted by Poker Bar.

Madam Spades was already standing behind the bar counter, gently mixing vodka and rum. She said, “Newcomer, you’ve worked hard during this period, taking consecutive night shifts for so long; you must be exhausted. Take today and tomorrow off. Wander around the lower tier and see if you can remember anything.”

Quicksand stood in a daze, not understanding the meaning of having days off. “Wandering around” sounded like a patrol mission. Seeing his bewildered eyes, like looking at a newborn deer, Madam Spades let out a sigh of infinite affection and turned to call out:

“Diamonds, accompany him tomorrow.”

“What?”

Diamonds halted on the stairs, looking down in disbelief as if hearing earth-shattering terrible news.

“You have the day off tomorrow too,” Madam Spades’s eyes behind the veil curved with mischievous amusement. “Don’t go out conning people and fishing for big whales. I’m granting you special permission to show your little minion around. What are you afraid of? Isn’t he the one you brought back? You ought to show some concern for him when you have the time.”

Quicksand chimed in with a deadpan expression, “Hear that? Madam wants you to show concern for me.”

Diamonds snapped, “What concern do you need!” He stomped upstairs, calculating in his mind how many times he had been beaten by Quicksand during this period: if meeting that time cleaner earlier was encountering the most troublesome enemy of his life, then this kid was without a doubt the most intractable, ferocious catch he had ever hooked.