Sebastian looked at Domino. Her full ass was still raised in the air, semen streaming from her pussy like a waterfall in the wild. A sight like that would have been enough to get him hard all over again.
But he held himself back. She seemed to have had enough. He settled her into a comfortable position on the bed so she could sleep properly. He didn't want her suffocating in the sheets.
'Deadpool really did set me up for a score,' Sebastian thought as he pulled on a pair of boxers.
The last thing Sebastian had expected when Wade started talking about the size of his dick was for Domino to believe him and actually want to fuck him.
If Sebastian remembered correctly, Domino had some kind of mutant ability that made her luckier. So did that mean sleeping with him had been lucky for her? Sebastian shook his head and dragged his thoughts back on track.
What mattered was the power in his hands. Divine Copy allowed him to copy another person's abilities through physical contact. The abilities could become permanent, like the healing factor he'd copied from Wade, or remain temporary.
From Natasha, Sebastian had copied slightly superhuman strength, along with remarkably advanced reflexes and instincts. Almost two weeks had passed since their last encounter, and those abilities were still there.
As time passed, Sebastian could roughly estimate how long a copied ability would last. For example, when he'd copied Deadpool's healing factor temporarily in the past, he could get a sense of how many hours he had left based on how the power felt.
If the ability started at 100 percent and dropped to 90 percent after an hour, it would last less than four hours in total. The decline was progressive, not linear. The first hour cost him 10 percent, the second 20 percent, the third 40 percent, and so on.
Those percentages existed only in his head. The whole thing might be bullshit, but it worked well enough for him.
Divine Copy worked both actively and passively. When he used it actively, Sebastian concentrated on copying a specific ability. Passively, the copying happened on its own, as naturally as breathing. The only real difference was that active copying demanded so much concentration that it left him vulnerable.
Also, when Divine Copy worked passively, he couldn't tell which ability he was copying. He might not even realize he'd copied anything at all.
He'd used it actively to copy Deadpool's power, and even then, it had taken him almost ten hours.
'Does sex speed up the copying process?' he wondered.
He started considering why Natasha's abilities hadn't faded. Was it the intensity of the contact? The parts of the body he touched?
'Wish I had a system that could explain this shit.' Unfortunately, his gun shop system had absolutely nothing to do with his Divine abilities.
Sebastian made himself some chilaquiles. While cooking, he thought about what he could do now that he'd copied Domino's luck. A casino came to mind, but that would be a bad idea, wouldn't it?
As he shoveled food into his mouth, he weighed the pros and cons. The biggest advantage was obvious: the amount of money he could win. The downside was the danger.
Then again, how dangerous could it really be? He had enhanced physical abilities, Deadpool's regeneration, and Domino's luck. That was a pretty damn good combination for staying alive, wasn't it?
'I should be fine,' he thought, sounding far too optimistic. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
The Crimson Crown Casino.
That was today's victim.
Sebastian had plans for his future. The money from SHIELD wasn't just meant to feed his system. Eventually, he wanted to build his own arms manufacturing company, and for that, he needed more starting capital.
He hadn't even finished SHIELD's order yet, and he was already about to gamble with the money. Was that a problem?
Not at all. The system awarded points for making a sale. His money didn't magically disappear to feed it.
He approached one of the casino's counters. He felt a little out of place. Most of the people around him were dressed elegantly, while he was wearing black jeans, a white shirt, and a leather jacket.
"Welcome, sir. Would you like to purchase some chips?"
"Before that, what's the minimum bet?"
"That depends on the table." The woman's smile cooled a little, but she remained polite. "Poker tables start at one hundred dollars. Blackjack starts at five hundred, roulette starts at..."
She went on to list the casino's games and their minimum bets. Sebastian listened carefully. The casino offered several tiers of tables. The hundred-dollar poker tables were the cheapest, while others started as high as ten thousand.
'When should I move up?' Sebastian wondered.
"I'd like one million dollars in chips." The woman straightened, and her warm smile immediately returned. Sebastian paid by bank transfer.
Casinos weren't nice places. Most people went there to lose money, chasing a little dopamine rush when they won a hundred dollars, only to spend weeks or months feeling miserable after losing thousands.
'Gambling is bad,' Sebastian reminded himself as he headed toward a poker table with a one-thousand-dollar minimum.
"Mind if I join?" The dealer gave him a nod.
Sebastian dropped into a chair with a million dollars' worth of chips.
That might seem like an absurd amount, but he wanted to look rich. If he walked in with a thousand dollars and ended up winning millions, the casino would get suspicious. They'd think he was cheating or stealing.
But if he arrived with a million, he wouldn't look nearly so out of place.
Sebastian watched the dealer's hands as he dealt two cards to each player. He looked down at his own.
The three of hearts and the two of spades.
The ace of hearts, the queen of clubs, and the seven of diamonds.
A shitty hand, basically.
"Ten thousand," said the man to Sebastian's right, placing his bet. He wore an expensive suit with a designer label Sebastian didn't even recognize.
There were six players at the table, Sebastian included. Two folded immediately.
"Raise." Sebastian pushed twenty thousand into the pot. Two more players folded. The first man called, and the dealer revealed another card: the two of hearts.
'A pair. The lowest one possible, though.'
"Fifty thousand," the man bet.
Sebastian noticed something. Everyone at the table seemed annoyed with this guy. It was as if every bet he made was designed to force the others to put in more money than they could afford.
"I c—"
"Listen, kid." The man turned over his two cards: the ace of spades and the queen of diamonds. Together with the community cards, they gave him two pair. "You'd be better off folding." It was a good hand, sure, but not an unbeatable one. Certainly not good enough to justify acting so aggressively.
Sebastian stopped himself. He had to think this through and be careful. All he had was a lousy pair, the weakest possible. The smart move would be to fold and—
"Raise. One hundred thousand," Sebastian said on impulse.
The man's smile cracked. He stared at his chips for several long seconds before finally calling.
The dealer revealed the last card. The two of diamonds. Sebastian held back a laugh as he showed his cards before the betting round was over, just as his opponent had done. Three of a kind. A shitty three of a kind, but three of a kind nonetheless.
The other man stared at him as though he were insane.
"You just got lucky. I check," he muttered bitterly, tossing his cards aside. There was no point in carrying on.
'You have no idea, buddy,' Sebastian thought before speaking. "I check."
The dealer pushed the entire pot toward Sebastian.