Arena Mode Read Online Free PDF

friends completely changed my perspective. I’d accomplished so little in twenty-nine years on this planet, but my silent motto had always been, “there’s always tomorrow.” You always hear people say “live each day like it’s your last” – it never occurred to me they say that because it actually could be.
    I asked them to sit, and explained my situation in detail; the tumor, my timeline, and my one and only option for survival – as well as the astronomical cost.
    Gavin fell silent, the color draining from his face. Peyton collapsed on the couch and sobbed, burying her face in her hands. It was disturbing and surreal. I felt like my friends were already mourning my death while I stood by and watched helplessly. I was a ghost at my own funeral.
    I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I needed to act fast. It was time to put my superhuman brain to work before it killed me.
     

 
    “Did you know you’re not supposed to drink with these?” Gavin carefully inspected my bottle of pills, squinting at the tiny label on the side.
    I grabbed my fifth shot off the table and downed it, trying not to wince as I swallowed. “ Now you tell me.” I fumbled for the bottle of Jack Daniels and filled two more glasses, sliding one across the surface towards him.
    With nowhere else to be on a Saturday night, I desperately needed a few dozen alcoholic beverages. I couldn’t deal with crowds even when I was perfectly healthy, so I wasn’t about to start putting up with them now. Instead of hitting a bar, Gavin invited me to Excelsior after-hours so we could lounge in his retro living room and watch kung fu movies until we passed out. Not the most action-packed plan, but it was the most appealing offer I had on my anemic social calendar.
    Yes, I had just received life-altering news, and sure, I was supposed to be coming up with a plan on how to get this thing out of my skull – but brainstorming could wait until the morning. I needed at least one night to relax and process the information.
    Gav kicked back his shot and immediately started pouring another. “So you need what, three million for the nanotech surgery?”
    I sank deeper into the couch. The springs moaned beneath me and I propped my feet up on the table. “Probably closer to four.”
    “What if you sold some of your collection?” he asked.
    “My comics? Even if I found buyers for every book I owned, I wouldn’t clear much more than a million, and that’s assuming I got premium pricing for everything . Chances are I’d get less than half of that.”
    “What about playing cards? That’s your bread and butter; you could fly out to Vegas or Monte Carlo, hit the high stakes games and do some serious damage.”
    I appreciated the advice, but his logic was flawed. “To be safe, I need to book the procedure within two months, which means I’d have to win more than sixty-thousand dollars a night – every night – to get close to four million. And there’s no guarantee I’d win that often.” I don’t know if he was drunk or genuinely confused, but Gavin furrowed his brow, seemingly baffled by my quick math. “Look, when a game concept is new, the rules are a lot more malleable. Casinos were getting ripped off by card counters back in the 1960s because they didn’t even know it was happening, or that counting was even possible. Things are different now. When the cheaters figure out a new way to game the system, the house fights back – there’s too much invested to let people like me take them for millions.”
    “But you still find a way, though,” he added.
    “Right, because I can do advanced calculations in my head, but that’s not the point. I have to cash out before I attract too much attention, because with facial recognition programs and micro tracers I can’t afford to set off any alarms. Even the big casinos in The City aren’t above hiring a hitter from the Dark Zone to erase someone if they seem like a long-term threat.” I leaned