There is No Escaping the Hero
Interlude: Solo Part 2
“Oh my, it seems the tiles won’t come if you lack faith, huh?”
“…The match isn’t over until you put on your shoes.”
“Even if you act cool, you’re about to go bust.”
Solo’s point sticks were down to just a few thousand and hundred-point sticks; he had been beaten down to a state where declaring Riichi was barely possible. Since that first win, Solo alone had been plucked clean as if targeted, leading to this moment.
Naturally,
(…It’s cheating, obviously.)
It was cheating. If he was targeted this blatantly, even an idiot would know.
Most likely,
(A fourth person… the staff member behind me, he’s the ‘wall’, huh.)
There was a fourth person. Cheating called “passing” usually involved players exchanging some kind of sign to efficiently pass tiles to each other, also known as “combo play,” but by using a “wall” (an observer) other than the players here, they could manipulate the board with higher precision. The wall could enable the other two to assist the player designated to win the round, or signal Solo’s winning tile so everyone could push aggressively.
He thought they wouldn’t let a first-timer acting like a pro win easily at such huge stakes, but if they came at him with the whole gambling den involved in such a bold method, it couldn’t be helped.
(Self-defense it is.)
Solo smiled.
Seeing that,
“Oy, oy, it’s the last round (All Last). You have no margin left, yet you’re so relaxed.”
“Smack smack smack (Have you lost your mind?)”
“Thump thump thump thump.”
Three out of three provoked him in their unique ways. Especially the leg-shaking bastard provoking him with his leg instead of his mouth; it was so bizarre it was actually funny.
Either way,
“Do you guys believe in God?”
“Ah?”
“Smack (Obviously we believe, you dumbass).”
“Thump thump.”
“I don’t. Because—”
Solo held up his own left arm to them,
“God resides in this guy.”
He said God resided there. Not only the three players, but the spectators watching the big match and the staff member acting as the wall burst into laughter.
Nice joke, they thought.
“Proc.”
He lit a cigarette,
“Now then, as God says. I’m turning the tables.”
Exhaling purple smoke, Solo unleashed his left hand. With tremendous momentum, he built the wall. They were startled by the incredible speed, incomparable to before.
“…What are you doing?”
“My dominant hand is my left. When it’s crunch time, I’ve decided to bring this guy out.”
“Hah, meaningless. Mahjong isn’t a game about stacking fast.”
“True enough.”
One step away from losing a fortune, normally there shouldn’t be any room for composure, yet despite feeling creeped out by the confident Solo, they were absolutely confident in their victory.
There was no reason to lose.
Because they had a fourth person approved by the gambling den—
However, that fourth person’s eyes widened.
“Double Riichi.”
Dealer’s Double Riichi; a big hand came right from the start. But they were an iron wall. The winning tile wouldn’t come out. Yes,
“Tsumo, Ippatsu.”
“Huh?”
Except for Tsumo (self-draw).
“Double Riichi, Ippatsu, Tsumo, plus Tanyao, Pinfu… Dealer’s 18,000 (Impachi).”
“Guh, oh.”
“Look, look, my luck’s rising. I’m going full throttle.”
Counterattack start.
“Riichi.”
“Smack!?”
“Tsumooo!”
“Thump!?”
A raging wave of consecutive wins. The faces of the three turned pale. Impossible. Mahjong is a game of luck; consecutive wins happen. They happen, but consecutive wins with such quick hands are impossible.
Moreover, all Tsumo.
The man who was on the verge of busting out had turned the tables completely in one go.
But, the one more surprised than the three was—
“Ah, aah.”
“Staff-san. Gimme a light.”
“Y-Yes.”
It was the staff member acting as the wall. He was watching from behind. So he knew. This man was cheating. His hand was changing rapidly even though he hadn’t drawn new tiles.
Most likely, he was swapping with the wall.
In short, stacking the deck. So, he just had to catch him in the act. He had the authority of a staff member. If caught red-handed, he could do anything.
Hand him over to the backing organization, and a slave is born.
However,
“Ron.”
“D-Dama (Silent win)!? Kuh, h-hey! Don’t cheat! Staff, where are your eyes! Hurry up and catch him!”
“Ah, um, well.”
“Got proof?”
There was no proof. He knew it was different from the initial hand. But he didn’t understand how the tiles were organized from there and brought to Tenpai (ready hand).
Because he couldn’t see the exchange, and there was absolutely no strange movement when stacking the tiles. So, he couldn’t catch him. Couldn’t blame him.
Just now, he was one tile away from ready (Iishanten) until the last moment, but the moment the leader man discarded that tile, it had transformed into a winning tile.
An unbelievable sight, as if watching magic.
“If you’re gonna pick a fight… try catching me red-handed.”
“Guh.”
Blatant eye signaling now. However, there was nothing they could do.
Because,
(Today, this guy is in top form!)
Today, Solo’s left arm was in top form. Solo wasn’t doing anything difficult. When stacking the wall with his left hand, he simply identified the tiles by touch with the delicate sensation of his left hand, selected tiles like Red Dora at super speed, and stacked them into his own wall.
He was also just swapping his hand with the tiles he collected while watching the board as appropriate. His hand movements were too fast and skillful for the eye to follow.
Everyone here was looking, but not seeing.
This was the true worth of the man who was banned from all local mahjong parlors for cheating by unknown means, the man with the self-proclaimed Golden Left Arm. No one could stop him.
A man who could accurately identify the types of bills in a wallet in a fleeting encounter. Compared to that, identifying tiles by touch was like twisting a baby’s hand.
Rather,
(Remembering where I stacked which tile is the tiring part.)
That was the difficult part. Actually, he made a tiny mistake during the swap. But if he made a mistake, he could just swap again.
When he was in the zone, no matter how many times he did it, ordinary people couldn’t even visually perceive it.
Godspeed cheating that kept everyone at bay.
“Now then, the finishing touch.”
(N-No way. Like this, everyone cleanly… on the verge of busting. It’s a nightmare, what is happening? What do we have to do for this to happen?)
“Told you. God resides here.”
Unstoppable. Dumbfounded, appalled, they could do nothing but watch.
“Smack smack smack!”
“Ah? Eh? …Ah.”
At the very end, the leader man finally realized after the loud-chewer pointed it out. Yes, Solo hadn’t let them touch his wall even once since a while ago.
In other words, this man was manipulating even the dice rolls.
Yes, Solo in top form, his left hand,
“Snake eyes are lucky. That’s 12.”
“Ah, aah.”
Manipulated the dice rolls. Occasional failures were just part of the charm, and even if he failed somewhat, he could manage. In the end, if even half the wall remained, he could do enough.
He was careful with this finishing touch, though—
(D-Damn starting hand. This time, I’ll see through it—)
“Staff-san.”
“Eh?”
“If you stare so hard… you’ll give it away, you know.”
“Tch!?”
A momentary gap; naturally, this big move would be exposed if stared at. Since the right hand had to intervene, the speed would inevitably be based on that.
Still fast, but to be absolutely sure, crossing the stone bridge carefully, he shook the opponent, upset him, made his gaze waver for an instant, and made him look away.
Decide it there.
“H-Hurry up and discard the first one.”
“Don’t have a tile to discard.”
“…Huh?”
“It’s over.”
Secret Technique, Tsubame Gaeshi (Swallow Reversal).
A grand technique of preparing fourteen winning tiles in the wall and swapping them all with the hand. A supreme technique praised as the art of cheating in some other world.
Difficult to perform undetected, but,
“Tenhou (Heavenly Hand).”
He could artificially achieve a divine act impossible without heavenly luck.
This is Yakuman.
“Goburei (Apologies for the rudeness).”
“H-Hieee!?”
Exhaling purple smoke,
“Still wanna play?”
Solo provoked them with a menacing voice. I’ll play as much as you want. I’ll win it all. If you still have the will to play, bring it on.
“Please spare us!”
Solo,
“Yeah.”
Big victory, instant ban.
***
Solo entered a random tavern to drink and celebrate his victory. If he only thought about the winning amount, he should have won more carefully, little by little, but since he was leaving the town tomorrow anyway, he thought a little recklessness was fine and won like that.
Cheating against cheating.
Winning by cheating even if the opponent isn’t cheating.
This is Solo’s style.
“Whee… it’s hitting me. Another one!”
“Customer, you’re gonna pass out.”
“Won’t pass ouuut!”
Perhaps the alcohol had hit him quite hard; Solo was getting pretty wasted. The bartender was worried, but Solo ordered another round in high spirits.
There,
“A prosperous gentleman. How about a song?”
An androgynous-looking bard carrying a lute called out to Solo. Normally he wouldn’t pay for a bard’s song, but,
“Hmm, then, something that lifts the mood, bam!”
He took out a 10,000 Oro bill from his wallet and handed it to the bard.
“Generous.”
“Easy come, easy go. Well then, sing whatever you like.”
“Understood.”
Such wandering bards were common in taverns. Some were drifters, some had fixed places to sing, a mix of good and bad including skill.
This bard,
(Singing is outstandingly good. I’m an amateur, but even I can tell when someone is this good. But, it’s not a song that lifts the tension at all. Well, fine, but—)
The singing was good, but with absolutely no intention of meeting the customer’s request, he spun a tune somewhere like a lullaby. It was an order violation, but since he didn’t expect much anyway, he listened.
While listening, drowsiness washed over him.
Dreams, illusions; his past self was there.
“…”
No parents, no siblings. Since he could remember, he had always been alone, living without flocking much. His current name, too, yes, he just took the nickname “Solo” (Loner) used to mock him as his own name. Originally, he was Nameless.
Calling himself a lone wolf sounded nice, but he was just an outcast. But he had pride in the skills he used to survive alone, especially his left hand.
Survive with just this one. While those around him dropped dead from the winter cold and starvation, he still survived.
That became the eye of the wolf.
He crossed dangerous bridges many times. A gambling floor like today was lukewarm; bought for his left hand alone, he received various solicitations, but he kicked them all away.
There were towns he couldn’t approach because of that.
He lived alone. He thought being alone was fine.
Back then, he should have been proud and aloof.
“Father, Mother.”
“…”
He never thought he was envious—never.
And yet,
“Are you stupid? Learn. If you direct force, force comes back at you.”
“…I’ll kill you.”
Why did he—
“Aniki!”
“Don’t call me Aniki. I’m Solo, get out!”
“But I have nowhere to go.”
“…”
Why didn’t he stick to that, that was—
“Aniki, I’m, sorry.”
“…”
That constantly stuck in his heart like a thorn, aching.
Just a memory of that.
That—
“Was my voice too beautiful? Seems I made you cry.”
“…Shut up. Just drank too much.”
He remembered just a little bit.
“Ah, mood ruined. Gonna change venues and drink again!”
“Is that so. Then, see you somewhere again. Lonely… Loner-kun.”
“…Oy, hey—”
He was about to snap, Don’t badmouth the customer, but his eyes met the bard’s, and seeing the color floating there, for some reason, he lost the will to do so.
“Something wrong?”
“No, well, we probably won’t meet again. I’m a drifter anyway.”
A drifter anyway. Even calling it his hometown, he had just stayed there the longest so far. He lost his place to stay and gained a criminal record. It was about time; this journey could also be called a journey to find the next place to drift to.
Because he knew best that he wasn’t a decent guy.
Watching Solo’s back as he left,
“We will meet again. It is Goddess-sama’s will, Solo.”
Poron, playing the lute, the bard’s figure vanished like a dream before anyone in the tavern noticed.
Solo, to lift his dampened mood at once after leaving the tavern,
“Big Brother, how about a girls’ bar? We got cuties lined up!”
“Hoh… hehe, let’s go wild for a bit!”
“As expected!”
He was sucked into a shop where girls poured drinks and talked to him. Led astray by the tout—
***
The next day,
“Pops.”
Early in the morning, in front of Schutz who was having breakfast on the first floor of the tavern that also served as an inn,
“…Just buy me clothes. I’ll pay you back later.”
Solo returned in just his underwear.
“…Why did it come to this?”
“I don’t know either.”
Solo, whose memory was completely wiped by alcohol, only knew that for some reason he had become naked and was buried upside down in a garbage dump.
Winning at Mahjong, the bard, the girls’ bar (rip-off joint)—he remembered nothing. It was a complete mystery.
“You… FOOL!”
“Sowwwy!”
『If I was there, that wouldn’t have happened.』
(Sowwwy!)
After this, after being scolded like an idiot, Schutz went around the pawnshops in the city and bought back only his clothes. Needless to say, solo activities were banned for a while.
