My body was still trembling from the adrenaline of the second round. The card I had clenched tightly in my fist was now damp with sweat, the confidence from that last-minute frequency move still lingering in my palm. But I barely had time to breathe before the bell for the final round rang out.

  Tiiiiiiiiing…

  Bay Piggy stood up. His chair scraped against the floor with a painful screech, as if the sound alone was tearing something from my spine. He locked eyes with me, then turned theatrically to the center of the hall with open arms.

  “Congratulations, young talent. You’ve survived the second round as well. But now...”

  “Now we’ll be using a different form of payment.”

  Bay Piggy snapped his fingers.

  The doors opened.

  And in came two large, muscular men, their faces hidden behind metal masks. Each held a massive axe. Blood-washed yet still rust-stained. They slowly walked toward the table and stood behind me. Silence fell. Even the gamblers held their breath. Then Bay Piggy spoke:

  “The third round... is a special one. The bets are still valid. But no longer with money—now you’ll be wagering your body.”

  “Your arms, your legs, your torso, your heart... and finally, your head. Each piece of you is worth its weight in gold. Each one, a bet. If you win the game, you’ll get everything back. But if you lose... nothing will remain.”

  My throat dried out. It felt like I was swallowing sand.

  “But...” Bay Piggy added, “As long as you continue playing — whether you lose a limb or not — as long as your head remains, you stay alive. You will feel the pain. Every cut will make your nerves scream. But you won’t die. Not until the game is over.”

  As he said that, one of the masked executioners raised his axe and slammed it into the floor. The sound of metal echoing through the dark hall froze my heartbeat.

  And the game began.

  For the first bet, I picked the card in my right hand. The game was “Low or High.” Simple rules: each player gets one card. You may choose to change it, but doing so increases the bet’s value. If you change and still lose, the punishment is doubled.

  I drew a Six. Bay Piggy kept his card face-down.

  [Examine] was active. I noticed a mark on the corner of his card… a faded print, indicating it had been used many times. He was using the same pattern again. It must be one of the less frequent cards. A low number, probably.

  I guessed it was a “Three” or a “Two.”

  “I’ll stay,” I said.

  Bay Piggy smiled. He flipped his card: a Seven.

  My face tightened. I had lost.

  “Pay the bet,” Bay Piggy said.

  The masked executioner stepped forward. Slowly raised his axe.

  “Wait!” I wanted to scream, but… I had agreed to the rules. There was no escape.

  SLASH!

  My left arm... severed.

  The pain... indescribable. Stars exploded in my vision. Even swallowing made tears burst from my eyes. I felt the pain not just in my flesh, but in the scream of my bones.

  But… I was alive.

  The cards were dealt again. This time I had a Nine. A decent card, but Bay Piggy instantly changed his. My veins tensed.

  This… was a bluff. I was sure of it.

  But the pain was still fresh. I could barely think. Should I risk my right leg? But that’s the game. If it’s a bluff, I win.

  “I’ll stay,” I whispered. My voice was barely audible.

  Bay Piggy flipped his card: an Eight.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  I won.

  The executioner moved over to Bay Piggy and severed both of his arms. Changing cards cost him double. But that smile never left his face — as if he felt no pain and believed he’d win no matter what.

  A brief relief... I could breathe again. I had saved my right leg. But I knew the game was designed to break me. It wasn’t over yet.

  This time, I drew a Three. Bad card.

  But… this was where [Examine] stepped in again. My card’s print… brand new. Never drawn before. I had figured out that some cards cycled more frequently than others. According to the previous Frequency rule, some cards were systematically selected.

  Bay Piggy’s card was one of the “new” ones as well. He was playing high.

  I decided to switch.

  New card: King.

  Almost a guaranteed win.

  Bay Piggy flipped his card: Two. I won. I saved my torso.

  Next card: Five. I swapped it. New card: Two.

  Damn it… I swapped again. Worse — One.

  Bay Piggy winked.

  Flipped his card: Three.

  I lost again.

  And the axe came once more.

  SLASH!

  This time… my legs and torso. Gone. The pain was so sharp, I couldn’t breathe. At one point, I thought I would pass out. But no... the system didn’t allow it. I was alive.

  Only one remaining limb.

  My card: Seven. I examined Bay Piggy’s hand. He hesitated slightly, then swapped. That was a sign of a bluff. [Examine] showed a tiny bend on the edge of his card – it had been on the table before. Low frequency card.

  “I’ll stay.”

  Bay Piggy revealed: Nine.

  I lost my final arm. Only my head remained. I wanted to scream, to die. The pain was beyond belief, but any attempt to speak choked my breath. My screams were somehow silenced, my agony trapped inside — and this grotesque creature was enjoying every second of it.

  Three-quarters of my body were now gone. The loss had started with my arms, moved on to my left leg, then my right… and now my torso. Only my head remained. But my eyes were still open. I was breathing. Somehow… I was still alive.

  And the game continued.

  We had come to the final bet.

  Mr. Piggy looked at me with a glint of victory in his eyes. Even in that moment, I could feel it — it wasn’t my death he was enjoying. It was my collapse. The purpose of this game was to test the limits of my existence.

  But I wasn’t here just to survive.

  I was here to win.

  As the dealer shuffled the cards, my eyes caught a glimpse of the deck.

  And in that moment…

  It clicked.

  There were differences in the patterns of the cards. Subtle, but meaningful. I hadn’t noticed it at first, because all the cards looked identical.

  But the card set we’d been using since the third round was different from the previous two. These cards looked handmade — not mass-produced. And each had been… used to a different extent.

  Some corners were worn. Some had sweat stains or microscopic scratches. The most frequently used cards were the most worn.

  And then I realized…

  Every time Mr. Piggy swapped his hand, he picked cards with the same degree of wear. There was a loop in the deck.

  The same types of cards kept coming back in a set sequence.

  There was no randomness.

  This wasn’t a game — it was a system.

  I wanted to say, “When did you realize you’d already lost, Mr. Piggy?”

  But my bluff hadn’t landed yet.

  I took a slow breath. Even the axe-wielders behind me were starting to look at me with pity.

  The final bet.

  Wager: My head.

  The dealer shuffled slowly. Mr. Piggy tilted his head, arms crossed, as if eagerly waiting for the final move.

  A card was handed to me.

  At first glance, it was a low card. If I lost… it would be the end, forever.

  But then I used [Examine].

  Brand new. Barely played. Hadn’t entered the loops from earlier rounds. No signs of wear.

  According to Mr. Piggy’s loop-based algorithm, this was a low-frequency card.

  Meaning, he would assume it was a weak one.

  But I could use that as a shield.

  I declared I wouldn’t switch. I averted my eyes with fake anxiety, broke my breath pattern. Made it look like I was scared.

  “What if my bluff doesn’t work?” — I let that thought hang in the air.

  Just like I’d done all game, I acted afraid.

  And Mr. Piggy… took the bait.

  He swapped his card.

  The Final Move of the Bluff

  I looked at Mr. Piggy’s hand. The card was worn — one of the high-frequency ones.

  I knew this card had a high chance of appearing because the system favored it.

  Mr. Piggy flipped his card:

  An eight.

  I gave a faint smile, voice barely a whisper:

  "Against a high-frequency loop… a low-occurrence card. I figured out your system."

  And I slowly turned my card.

  An Ace.

  Mr. Piggy’s eyes widened. Veins bulged, fists slammed the table.

  But it was too late.

  The room fell into silence. Nothing could be heard.

  Except… my heartbeat.

  Then, suddenly, blood surged through my body again. The parts I’d lost — my arm, my legs, my torso… began to reassemble in shimmering fragments of light.

  As if time reversed, my body was being stitched back together.

  And… I was whole once again.

  The pain hadn't disappeared. I could still feel every cut, every tear.

  But my body was back. And in my mind, every detail of this round was carved in stone.

  How did I win?

  An Ace can count as 1 or 11 in poker. And since Mr. Piggy was the house, I knew I could play it as an 11.

  We weren’t playing poker — but these were poker cards.

  Marking the Ace as low-frequency was his mistake.

  And I exploited that opening.

  Of course, I was lucky too. If I hadn’t drawn that Ace, I don’t know what would’ve happened…

  But I guess there’s no need to think about that now.

  Mr. Piggy narrowed his eyes.

  “…So it wasn’t a bluff,” he muttered.

  “The mental framework, the card loop… I underestimated you.”

  I stood up, voice still raspy.

  “I just want to leave.”

  Mr. Piggy laughed loudly.

  “HAHAHAHA! You think you’re something just because you won? How many were there at the start, huh?

  Every gambler here lost their memories — their souls now belong to this casino.

  You think you’re any different? You’re no better than the monsters.

  You just kept playing until you won — just like a true gambler.”

  As his voice echoed on, beams of light wrapped around my body,

  and the world grew so bright it nearly blinded me.

  When I opened my eyes again, a familiar notification hovered before me:

  [You have successfully cleared Floor 1.]