Nobody's That Good at Poker - SCP Foundation

He sat at the edge of the table, taking in the faint waft of minced beef mingled with the pungent smell of Soju. He watched as the plate, which had just moments before held a meal he hoped he could have on a regular basis, was lifted, along with 14 others, and whisked away by an unknown power. Given the recent events surrounding DW17, he decided it was best not to joke about whether they were using Acroamatic Abatement to dispose of their waste.

To his left sat a middle-aged Caucasian man, seemingly in his late thirties to early forties, wearing a thin black coat with the Foundation insignia embroidered on his pocket seam. A black bowler hat was perched low on his head, obscuring his eyes that seemed to be gazing into something that wasn't quite there. To his right, a woman in her early twenties with her hair done up in a bun wore a diamond-blue dress blazer and a strange pair of spindly emerald-green glasses, also engraved with the Foundation insignia.

Glancing up, he saw eleven other distinct men and women, with an additional twelfth member seated at the head of the table—the only one without any Foundation insignia on his attire. This figure's face always seemed indistinct, despite a clear line of sight and his near superhuman perception. More than anything, the man resembled him in many respects, with the exception that the man's situation was more voluntary and less existentially erasing than his own.

Reflecting upon the situation he scoffed slightly. He'd never been much of a gambler, especially not in poker; the last time he did, he had nearly been run out of Three Portlands! As the man at the head of the table began to shuffle the cards, performing those card tricks he so despised—seriously, what purpose did they serve other than to show off?—he sighed. But who would ever decline an invitation from the O5 Council and the Administrator himself?

"Well," Nobody turned his head to meat its origin. He saw the thirteen overseers mirror his action as they all fixed their attention on the Administrator. "I'm glad you could all make it." A smile crossed the man's face. "Now, I apologize for the filter," he continued while gesturing to his face, "but, as I'm sure most of you have noticed by now, we have a guest today." With that, Nobody was met with the glances and curt nods of the various overseers. "Though, I didn't believe it was necessary for the rest of you to follow suit. Especially in light of the fact that our visitor has already bypassed our disinformation campaign and is now quite familiar with each of you." None of the overseers dared to interrupt the Administrator, but the final remark appeared to raise some tension among them. Some tensing in their seats, and others having their pupils dialate for a moment.

"You know, I would have loved to have a few more with us today, but Robert wasn't particularly fond of the idea. Damn near killed me when I showed up with the remains of his security detail. And don't even get me started on Fuller." He paused. Almost chuckling to himself. "Well, alas, I would like to thank you for your attendance, Mr. …?"

"Nobody," was the curt reply.

"Nobody!" he exclaimed, with a voice that imitated genuine enthusiasm. "You know, I've always been impressed with your work. All the secrecy and espionage, very unique. It's what inspired me to do this," he gestured to his face once more. "Anyway, I'm sure you're dying to start the main event: Texas Hold 'em." The Administrator stopped fiddling with the cards in his hands and, with a grin that would make even Dr. Wondertainment shy away, began to deal the cards to the fourteen seated at the table. "Though I hope you don't mind," he added, "the buy-in is… rather hefty."

"Hefty?" Well, that wasn't a surprise. The O5's were people who had, for all intents and purposes, limitless resources, funded by governments, organizations, and a vast myriad of groups whose existence was but a whisper. Luckily for Nobody, he himself ran an operation that could be considered… lucrative. He returned the smile. "I can assure you, Administrator, I have adequate resources to be comparable to the others at the table."

"Of Course." The reply was followed by a quick nod. "Twenty million then."

Nobody winced slightly upon hearing the buy-in, though he knew there was little chance he’d lose that day. He noticed someone three seats to his right shift and another person cough. He smirked to himself slightly; they didn’t believe him. That could be resolved quickly. Reaching in his coat, he was met with the sound of several weapons being drawn by the security staff present.

“May I?” he asked, with his hand still in his coat. Conveniently, Nobody's coat also served as a storage locker of sorts. It was an anomalously enhanced space in which he stored a wide array of things, some of which could remove any threats to his safety. Scanning the room, he saw five guards each with their firearms trained on him. Based on the way they positioned themselves, there were at least four more he couldn’t see.

“Of course,” the Administrator said, looking to the personnel, who then lowered their firearms. “I trust that you won’t make any poor decisions while here.”

“I merely wanted to prove the assets I hold are of equal value to your buy-in.” He paused before removing his phone and opened an image. Turning the phone, he revealed an image of a small glass vial containing around a dozen small red pills. Even if only for a moment, he saw O5-9’s eyes widen slightly. “Does this suffice?”

"It most certainly does, my nameless friend. Now, before we begin, due to the large amount of present here, we'll be using a modified deck with an additional 23 cards that will randomize round.”

"I understand."

"Well then," the cards that the Administrator held vanished, "let's begin." With that, Nobody found two cards in front of him and all the other overseers. Looking at his cards, he found a queen of spades and a three of hearts. Returning his cards face down on the table, he looked around the room to gauge the reactions of the other overseers. Most of them, as he expected, showed no reaction at all, their faces remaining cool and placid. All except for one: O5-12.

O5-12 was a short Asian man, wearing a standard issue Foundation uniform, and from Nobody's own research, only recently inducted into his position after his predecessor was found dead following a firefight with several teams from the Chaos Insurgency. According to internal Foundation reports, the man alone killed more than two dozen of his assassins before putting a bullet in his own temple. Poor fella. Though very admirable for someone whose responsibility was the maintenance of the Foundation's internal logistics.

The new O5-12, while still an incredibly composed man, had one small oversight. Throughout the dinner that had preceded, Nobody took note of the body language of each of the overseers. O5-12, in particular, was tense in the way he held himself—stiff shoulders, strained eyes, and a slight twitch to his mouth. This fit the profile Nobody had for him too. O5-12 was a lot more hands-on than his predecessor, a former field agent involved with hunting 939 instances. Not easily trusting and constantly aware. However, as of now, the man, still strained, lacked the same intensity in which he usually glared around the room. He had a small slouch, and his blinking pattern was irregularly slow. That behavior indicated familiarity, almost amusement—something personal to him.

But what could it be? Not a lucky number; no, O5-12 would be far too austere for that. Something simple. Something he would appreciate. Nobody smiled inwardly, careful not to reveal his observations. O5-12 had a three and a two; he was born on February third. Not only would it be amusing for a man who deals with numbers, but his former fieldwork would have instilled within him a sense of value in life. Further, it wasn't a bad hand either. Nobody bought in.

The game continued, with several players folding. By the end of the next seven minutes, five cards lay upon the table: a six of spades, jack of diamonds, four of clubs, four of diamonds, and ace of hearts. O5-7 folded at the raise of five million, leaving only Nobody and O5-12 still in the game. As Nobody met the raise, O5-12 widened his smile. He must be thanking his luck on his very first hand. Fascinating, isn't it?

Nobody knew what he had: a straight. It was hard not to pity the man; though, he did find it rather humorous that he was pitying a man likely responsible for the deaths of thousands. Throughout the game, O5-12’s small mannerisms didn't grow, but their continuance spoke volumes. This meant that not only did he have a good hand, but it also built off of his pre-existing hand, and, given his subtle eagerness to raise the pot, it most certainly wasn't just a pair he was happy about. O5-12 was a man of numbers; he understood the odds, and when he saw the six on the table and five in his hand, he knew he had won. Or so he thought.

O5-12 proudly placed his cards on the table: three of hearts, two of spades, five of hearts, king of diamonds, and nine of clubs. A good hand, a straight. The other overseers congratulated the man and looked to Nobody for his cards. It was probably hard for them to imagine O5-12 losing and their expressions reflected as much. Though Nobody only smiled in response, revealing a queen of spades, three of hearts, ten of clubs, king of diamonds, and seven of hearts. He had the highest card.

Crestfallen as he was, the man took it well. Smiling toward Nobody, he, with some agitation in his voice, congratulated Nobody on his win.

"Good luck, eh?" O5-12 asked as O5-1 clapped Nobody on his back.

"I suppose so." Oh, how he would never know.

O5-4 slammed his hand onto the table in frustration. It had been four hours, and throughout that time, Nobody had yet to lose a single game, much to the growing frustration of the overseers.

"This has to be a joke."

"You can't be serious."

"He has to be cheating."

"We can't even see his face!"

These were some of the many disgruntled reactions from the overseers as they watched Nobody lay out a pair of sevens in response to O5-4's pair of sixes. It was a strange sight, really, seeing the leaders of the Foundation play and banter as if they were common people. It almost humanized them—if not for the fact that most of them were several hundred years old and responsible for the deaths of countless innocent and guilty individuals alike. Though, he admitted to himself, they were juniors to him in both of those aspects.

Nobody hadn't won every round, but his skill in minimizing losses seemed almost inhuman to the overseers. It was as if he had a constant awareness of all the cards in play. As Nobody looked upon the fortune he had amassed from the single game alone, he smiled lightly.

"My, has this been just wonderful," the Administrator broke his silence after the overseers looked at Nobody with dumbstruck expressions. "You know, I haven't enjoyed dealing cards this much since I played dealer for a game between the UIU and a sect of the Serpent's Hand. While they might not have our resources, I can assure you the director of the UIU has a nasty bluff. Got himself and the UIU the location of four former IJAMEA black sites with that one game." The Administrator chuckled at his own recollection. "Though our new friend here probably has the best eye I've ever seen."

"I appreciate the compliment, but I assure you it's simply luck."

"Bullshit," O5-10 muttered to herself.

"Well, either way, you're quite the gambler." The Administrator laughed slightly. "Since I doubt any of my colleagues want to continue, I believe we should end here. Though, I wish to speak to our guest here privately." Looking towards the overseers, the Administrator nodded slightly. In response, the disgruntled overseers got up and shuffled out of the room and were then followed by all of the security team.

The room stood still for moments as both Nobody and the Administrator simply met each others gaze.

"I'd like to discuss my winnings," was what Nobody said to break the silence.

"Of course!" The Administrator clapped his hands. "Though I'd like to ask—how did you win? I've seen thousands of games, but I've never seen a player such as yourself. Almost omniscient knowledge of the cards in play."

Nobody looked at the table, almost absent mindedly, before he responded.

"I suppose I'll humor your request." Nobody stood up and picked up one of the cards that lay on the table. "You see, when most people look at this card, they'll see nothing special. No peculiar features differentiate it from others like it." He grabbed another card and raised both for the Administrator to see. "But when you look closely, then look closer, you'll see it. The small differences, the microscopic differences between each card. The slight print differences in the back—I memorized the back of each card and then remembered their face values. Once I did, I could guarantee my own victory." He placed both cards back on the table. He pointed to a card that the Administrator was near, the queen of clubs. When the Administrator flipped the card, it indeed was the queen of clubs.

"Impressive," was the Administrator's response. "But that doesn't explain your early victories. You still would have needed to see the cards, and you wouldn’t have done that in the first few rounds."

Nobody only smiled in response. The Administrator knew he was lying. Well, it wasn't that he couldn't do that—he could definitely do what he said, he was able to memorize all of the cards at a glance. After the second round, he even knew which 23 cards were randomizing each turn. But it wasn't the method he used to win the game. Leaving the question unanswered, Nobody continued, "Now, I'm sure the sum of money on the table there would cost the Foundation quite the pretty penny." He looked towards the table.

The Administrator tilted his head slightly, accepting that he wouldn't get a response before continuing. "It will, but we can recoup our losses, burn a few assets."

"I don't think that will be necessary."

"Hm?" The Administrator raised his eyebrow at the statement. "Why so?"

"Because I'd like to request an item instead of the money," Nobody waved his hands, "and don't worry, it won't be anything too extravagant."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Within Site-23's storage for anomolous objects, you'll find that a small wooden box has been there for an indeterminate amount of time." He paused slightly as he ran his fingers through his hair, "This box won't be in any of your records and neither will it be in any catalouge of items. That is what I wish to request."

The Administrator stood there, expressionless, before breaking into a smile and speaking. "Of course, that can be arranged. Though, it is a very unusual item."

"Perfect," Nobody replied, ignoring the final comment. He was sure the Administrator was suspicious, but there was nothing he could find with the information he gave. Even if he ran all the checks in the world, the wooden box would always remain a wooden box to the Foundation—nothing more. There would be no reason to deny Nobody's request.

"I hope we can do this again sometime," he heard behind him as he stood to take his leave. "I hope you can show me your trick next time."

Nobody simply turned and began whistling as he walked towards the exit. As he did so, a sly smile crept up his face.

The Administrator was wrong, humorously so. He had no real trick. The way in which he won was simple—the O5s were cheating. More specifically, they were communicating using tiny movements of their bodies. He had picked up on it during the dinner they had prior to the game: slight twitches of their mouths, shifting in their seats, and all other mundane actions were part of a code they used to communicate. Initially, he tried cross-referencing their actions with every known and yet-to-be-known code ever created. Even after checking four more times in the span of seconds, he found nothing. It was only after the first round, when he saw the hand of all the overseers after his victory, that he was able to decipher their code. It was almost amusing—they were communicating their cards with each other. However, due to 23 of the cards being random each round, they were unable to accurately know his cards, while he was able to always know all of theirs.

He chuckled to himself again as he left the room. He had gotten what he came here for, and as a bonus he also now knew the code in which the O5 council used to communicate with one another. Speaking of the overseers, they probably thought he was some master gambler. Fooling them all as he did. When, in fact, nobody's that good at poker.