Texas Holdem Crab Congee

Even if your head were to be cut right off, you should not fail to appreciate the service of your kaishakunin. – Advice to a Young Samurai

Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China, 5th Year of the Modern Era, Reign of the Emperor Xerxes the First.

The time is just past midnight and the cigar smoke hangs heavy in the room. It is a room not much larger than a decent hotel room, a junior suite perhaps; on the third floor, of a non-descript, low-rise office building, in the seedy part of town. Outside on the street, a fleet of black Alphards are parked up. The drivers mill around, some smoke. The smell of seafood congee wafts down the street. Eyes watch the entrance, surprise visitors are not welcome, not tonight, not any night. Young Triads mill around, old men sit on plastic stools, it is a pleasant night.

He sits there in the middle of the table, the dealer in front of him and just to his right, a pretty Asian girl, in a white collared shirt with a black tie. A pile of chips are at his hand, mostly round chips, but some oblong ones of various colours also. The big blind is twenty thousand Hong Kong Dollars, the little blind is ten. Nonchalantly, I glance at his stack, I do the maths, around six hundred, the game has just begun.