The following weekend, everyone gathered at Kenji's apartment for their first official Team Gambit poker session.
Laptops were out, snacks were on the table, and the mood was buzzing with a mix of excitement and nerves.
"Alright," Lance said as he leaned over his laptop, glancing at everyone's screens. "Time to divide and conquer."
Kenji groaned. "Man, I thought we were playing together. I even brought matching hoodies."
"This isn't a sleepover," Lance replied dryly. "I've been studying the tournament formats all week. If we're going to make real money, we have to play to our strengths."
He clicked through a few tabs and continued, "Kenji, Amara—you two are best suited for Bounty Hunter games. There's a $100K GTD starting in thirty minutes."
Mila raised an eyebrow. "Why not just have all of us play the same tourney? Wouldn't that give us a better shot if we make the final table?"
"Not necessarily," Lance said, turning to her. "Standard NLH tournaments have bigger prize pools, yes—but they also demand a lot of patience. That works for some of us, but not all."
He pointed to Kenji. "You're built for speed. I looked through your hand histories—you're aggressive, unpredictable, and you hate waiting. That's great for bounty tournaments. You don't need to reach the final table to make money; you get paid for every knockout."
Kenji smirked. "My kind of game."
Lance turned to Amara. "You're not as aggressive as Kenji, but your style is decisive and fast-paced. You don't hesitate when the odds are in your favor, which makes you a solid fit for bounties too."
Amara gave a silent nod, already adjusting her buy-in filters.
"And us?" Mila asked, arms crossed as she tilted her head toward Lance.
"We're taking a shot at the $250,000 GTD NLH," Lance replied. "Buy-in's $550. Steep, I know—but the number of players who cash out tends to be in the hundreds, not just the top ten or twenty. That's better odds for consistent players."
"As long as we don't get unlucky early," Mila muttered, cracking her knuckles.
"True. But we play smart, manage variance, and we'll at least get to the ITM stage," Lance said, his voice steady with quiet confidence.
By the next hour, everyone was already in their respective tournament.
Cards were dealt, virtual chips started flying, and Team Gambit officially entered their first real-money session.
Lance glanced at Mila, both of them hunched over their laptops at one end of the room. She had her earbuds in and was laser-focused, eyes flicking rapidly across the screen.
Good, he thought. She's in the zone.
xxx
Kenji's Table
Kenji was already wreaking havoc in the Bounty Hunter tournament.
"Okay, he's raising UTG with 8-6 suited... sure," Amara muttered beside him, clearly watching his table while playing on her own. "You're unbelievable."
"You don't understand the art," Kenji said with a smug grin. "This is what they call maximum disrespect play. I raise trash, then hit magic."
As if on cue, the flop came 7♣️ 5♠️ 9♦️.
Kenji whooped. "Open-ended straight, baby! It's destiny!"
He shoved all-in without blinking.
The other player called. Ace-9 offsuit.
Turn: 10♣️.
River: Q♥️.
Kenji's hand held. The KO alert pinged.
[$112.50 bounty.]
"See?" he beamed. "Magic."
Amara's Table
Amara, meanwhile, played like a tactician. Calm, calculated, and clinical.
She slow-played a flopped set of 6s and baited a player into a huge bluff on the river. When she revealed her hand, the chat exploded.
[Player567]: are u kidding me
[BadLuckRick]: savage
[AmaraWins]: gg :)
She smirked, cracked her knuckles, and stacked her chips.
Kenji gave her a side glance. "You scare me."
"You should be scared of losing to me."
xxx
Lance and Mila's Table
Meanwhile, in the $250K NLH tournament, Lance folded a marginal hand, glancing quickly at Mila's screen.
She was playing beautifully—tight but unpredictable. She'd won three pots in the last 10 minutes without showing her cards. Her opponents were starting to get nervous.
"She's terrifying," he whispered.
"I heard that," Mila said without looking up.
Lance chuckled and focused on his own hand. Pocket tens.
He raised pre-flop and got two callers.
Flop came: 7♦️ 10♠️ Q♣️.
A set.
"Nice," he muttered, throwing in a continuation bet.
One player folded, the other shoved all-in.
Lance blinked. He checked the stack sizes. The other player had him barely covered.
He thought for a moment. It could be a set-over-set situation, or maybe two pairs… or a bluff.
"He limped in preflop… and called my 3 bb raise," Lance murmured. "What's the probability that he has QQ?"
He eventually decided that it's unlikely for the person to have a set too and called.
The opponent flipped over Q-7. Two pairs.
"Hold, hold!" Both Mila and Lance murmured as they watched his screen.
Turn: 2♦️
River: 3♣️.
Lance doubled up.
"Let's go," he whispered, fighting the grin tugging at his lips.
xxx
Three Hours Later…
"Urgh…" Amara groaned as she closed her laptop, rubbing her eyes. "Seven knockouts and I didn't even make it to ITM."
She leaned back, annoyed—but not too annoyed. Her bounty total flashed on the screen: $787.50. After subtracting the $250 buy-in, she'd still pulled a $537.50 profit.
Not bad for a "loss."
Across the room, Kenji was locked in, eyes glued to his screen. His stack was massive—chip leader status.
He grinned. "Rebuy bounty tournaments are literally designed for me."
Amara raised an eyebrow. "You busted twice."
"And came back stronger," he said smugly, clicking through his hand history. "Ten knockouts, $1,125 in bounties, plus I've already locked in a minimum $107 from the prize pool. That's $1,232 guaranteed even if I get KO'd right now."
He paused, doing some mental math. "Minus $750 for three bullets… yeah, I'm up $482 so far."
Amara narrowed her eyes. "So you wasted two buy-ins just to show off?"
Kenji flashed a peace sign. "I call it investing in the narrative."
"You better final table this," Amara muttered, cracking her knuckles. "Or I'm billing you for emotional damage."
xxx
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Mila and Lance sat in silence, heads down. No cheering, no fist pumps.
They were deep into the tournament – both still alive and ITM. Only 27 players left till the Final Table.
"Your table's tighter than mine," Lance said as he peeked at Mila's screen between hands. "All people do is steal blinds at your table."
Mila shrugged as she folded another hand. "I'd rather chip up quietly than get caught in a pissing contest like your table. This is a game of endurance after all."
Lance glanced at his own screen, where a hyper-aggressive Brazilian player had just jammed pre-flop for the third time in a row.
"Speaking of pissing contests…" he muttered, before folding a K♦️7♦️. He had no chips in the pot and absolutely nothing to lose.
A few more hands later, Mila found herself with J♣️J♦️ on the button. One player had raised from an early position, and she was debating a shove.
"He's been tight… But this is still strong, " she said under her breath.
Lance glanced over. "What's his stack size?"
"About… 22 BB."