Chapter 150: The First Poker Night
Even among doctors trained in psychology, the gap between people could still be absurdly large.
Honestly, Ethan wasn't surprised.
Every field worked the same way. The more often a skill was used, the deeper the understanding became, until it eventually turned into instinct—real muscle memory.
And anything left unused for too long naturally dulled with time.
For a brief moment, Ethan even entertained the idea of poaching Wendy Rhodes away from Axe Capital.
But the thought disappeared almost immediately.
He knew perfectly well that there was no way he could match the salary Bobby was paying her now.
A psychological coach at Wendy's level only needed one successful intervention to help a trader earn millions—sometimes tens of millions—of dollars.
The value she created for Axe Capital was direct, measurable, and immediate.
If she came to the clinic instead, she might help far more people overcome psychological struggles…
But she'd never generate that same scale of financial return.
Save more people?
Or make more money?
Ethan didn't think he had the right to answer that question for her.
Only Wendy herself could decide.
Still, maintaining the connection certainly wasn't a bad thing.
If one day she was ever forced to choose between her husband and her boss…
Then perhaps the Rayne Clinic could become a fallback option for her.
Wendy had pointed out something Ethan had ignored for a very long time.
Failure.
Strictly speaking, Ethan had almost never experienced a true failed case.
Not every patient had been fully cured, but every single one had eventually recovered to a level indistinguishable from a healthy person.
No one had ever died from illness inside his treatment room.
And no treatment had ever forced him to confront genuine helplessness.
Because of that, no patient had ever truly stayed with him emotionally.
Even when he occasionally recalled former cases, it rarely affected his ability to treat the next patient.
But Wendy had bluntly told him:
In an emergency room, if a doctor remained trapped by the previous patient… or the previous decision…
Then the next patient might pay the price for it.
Doctors were not allowed the luxury of drowning in regret.
Even a single second of hesitation could create irreversible consequences.
The simplest—and cruelest—rule of survival was this:
One patient ends.
You let go immediately.
Then you walk into the next room giving everything you have again.
That wasn't coldness.
It was the brutal maturity the profession demanded.
For the first time, Ethan realized something important.
The powers of a priest made healing smooth and efficient…
But they had also quietly shielded him from the true pressures doctors carried.
The exhaustion.
The anxiety.
The need to keep moving even while doubting yourself.
He could end every treatment with ease—
Yet he had never truly learned how to continue functioning under sustained pressure.
This wasn't a problem of ability.
It was a gap in mentality.
And only now did he finally understand it.
Ethan gave Donnie's funeral one final glance, nodded quietly to himself, and turned away.
The moment he returned to the clinic, he threw himself back into work almost effortlessly.
Helen noticed the change almost immediately and casually asked him about it.
Ethan briefly mentioned what had happened that morning.
After listening, Helen simply smiled and nodded.
"She really is incredible."
"That's what years in a high-pressure environment does to someone."
When the afternoon consultations began, Ethan deliberately adjusted his rhythm.
He consciously applied what he had learned that morning.
After each patient, he cleared his thoughts completely.
No looking back.
No replaying previous cases.
Just focus entirely on the next person.
The effect appeared quickly.
Both mentally and physically, he no longer felt that faint accumulation of fatigue that used to linger in the background.
During several treatments that required Holy Light, he noticed something interesting.
The Holy Light itself hadn't become stronger—
But it had become steadier.
More enduring.
Almost as if the Light itself had learned how to distribute and conserve energy more efficiently.
As an experiment, he cast a recovery spell on himself.
The result genuinely surprised him.
Its duration had nearly doubled compared to before.
Perhaps this was the real secret behind how doctors survived long-term high-pressure work.
And somehow…
He had only truly learned that lesson now.
When work ended, Helen looked at him and couldn't help commenting,
"You're in a really good state today."
Even though he had only worked half a day, the energy radiating from him was obvious.
Ethan smiled and nodded.
"I figured some things out."
"Some lessons talent can let you skip."
"But some lessons…"
"You eventually have to make up for."
Today was Friday.
Normally, Ethan would've gone to see Max.
But earlier in the week, he had already arranged a Texas Hold'em night with the "Geek Squad Four"—plus Penny.
This was the first time all of them were seriously sitting down together for poker.
Whether it turned into a long-term weekly game depended entirely on tonight.
Ethan practically sped home.
After dinner, preparations began immediately.
The lights in the living room were dimmed slightly.
Not for atmosphere—
But because Sheldon firmly insisted:
"Excessive lighting interferes with humanity's ability to evaluate random events, thereby creating systematic errors in probability judgment."
That theory probably came from his grandmother Connie, who had apparently spent years in Texas treating illegal gambling as a stable family side business.
Sheldon had clearly inherited quite a few "valuable experiences" from her.
Nobody paid attention to him.
Of course, nobody could stop him either.
Everyone gathered around the coffee table.
Sheldon sat in his designated seat as usual.
Penny sat in the center of the couch, while Ethan sat opposite her.
Raj sat cross-legged on the floor with a bottle of beer in front of him—
Necessary equipment if he wanted to speak normally to the dealer.
Leonard occupied the armchair.
Howard originally sat beside Penny on the couch.
That arrangement lasted until he spent an extended amount of time tilting his head downward with suspiciously unfocused eyes before making the following comment:
"As an engineer, I can confidently say that not every structure submits to gravity."
Then he looked up at Penny.
"In that regard, Penny deserves tremendous respect."
After that, he was immediately exiled to the seat beside Ethan.
Penny sat comfortably on the couch with a freshly opened deck of cards in hand.
She looked incredibly attractive tonight.
Honestly, she had the exact energy of a sexy casino dealer running a poker table.
A tight black camisole hugged her figure perfectly, the minimalist fabric leaving her collarbone and shoulders completely exposed beneath the warm lighting.
She paired it with light denim shorts cut just short enough to be distracting without trying too hard.
Truthfully speaking, an attractive dealer automatically doubled the enjoyment of Texas Hold'em.
Ethan was just about to explain the rules—
When Penny had already started shuffling.
"My dad used to play with me when I was little," she said casually.
"It's pretty simple."
Ethan nodded.
Right.
He had momentarily forgotten Penny's background.
A card game like this was practically part of everyday life for her.
The others had never played seriously before, but the rules themselves weren't complicated.
With their intelligence, everyone picked it up quickly.
After a brief yet unusually serious discussion, the group unanimously agreed on the stakes:
Blinds: $0.25 / $0.50
Buy-in: $10–$20
They played several practice hands first without real betting.
Penny's dealing became smoother and more professional with every round.
"I have a question," Penny suddenly said.
"Was Texas Hold'em invented by Texans?"
Sheldon immediately looked up.
"The 'Texas' in Texas Hold'em does indeed refer to the state of Texas."
"So… yes?" Penny asked.
Sheldon instantly shifted into lecture mode.
"No. That is a common yet deeply unfortunate misunderstanding."
He paused dramatically.
"Poker originated from several European card games during the nineteenth century."
"Through France and Spain, it eventually entered America, where it was simplified, commercialized, and systemically spread."
"As for the specific variant known as Texas Hold'em, the earliest documented record places it in Robstown, Texas."
Penny interrupted immediately.
"So it was Texas."
Sheldon corrected her without hesitation.
"Documented."
"Not invented."
"Those are academically distinct concepts."
Raj asked,
"Then why is it called Texas Hold'em at all?"
Sheldon continued.
"Because during the mid-twentieth century, Texas became a major distribution hub for gambling culture."
"Gamblers, soldiers, and oil workers carried the game across the country."
"Then Las Vegas standardized the rules."
"Without casinos, unified rule sets, and televised tournaments…"
"Texas Hold'em would probably still just be a regional family card game."
Penny summarized,
"So basically, Texans didn't invent it—they just made it famous?"
Sheldon nodded.
"That is an acceptably mediocre summary."
The real game was finally about to begin.
"Before we start," Sheldon said, raising a finger,
"I need clarification."
"Is this purely a recreational activity…"
"Or a probability experiment involving financial exchange, risk tolerance, and psychological warfare?"
"Sheldon," Leonard sighed,
"We're just playing cards."
"Yeah," Howard added.
"Just cards."
"And if we win, maybe we can tip the dealer."
"Then the dealer gives us a little—"
He gestured vaguely toward Penny's chest.
"—flash in return."
"And the final winner earns breeding rights with the dealer."
Penny stared at him expressionlessly.
"That's disgusting, Howard."
Howard paused for a second.
"Cute disgusting?"
"Or just disgusting disgusting?"
Penny continued staring at him in silence.
Ethan immediately intervened.
"We're playing small stakes."
"So ignore the money and risk part."
"Think of it as practicing poker skills, psychological reads, drinking a little, and hanging out together."
"That makes it even more dangerous," Sheldon said seriously.
"I'm shuffling," Penny announced before Sheldon could continue.
Her movements had already become impressively smooth.
The cards snapped crisply between her fingers.
Howard Wolowitz barely looked at his own hand the entire time.
His eyes remained almost permanently fixed on Penny's chest.
When everyone noticed, he immediately defended himself:
"I'm just verifying the fairness of the shuffle."
"You've been staring at her for thirty straight seconds," Leonard pointed out.
"It's a strategy," Howard argued stubbornly.
"If I stare at the dealer, nobody can read my expressions when I look at my cards."
The poker night officially began.
And almost immediately, the table descended into eerie silence.
Sheldon stared down at his two hole cards from the big blind position.
"Given a five-player table," he began seriously,
"and assuming perfectly random card distribution…"
"My current probability of victory is approximately—"
He paused for a moment.
"48.3%."
Ethan raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
The others, however, instantly folded.
"You have pocket aces."
Sheldon blinked in surprise.
"How did you know?"
Ethan nodded calmly.
"Because you're not the only one here who can calculate odds."
"Welcome to Texas Hold'em."
"Lesson one: never say out loud what you're thinking during a hand… unless you're bluffing."
Sheldon won the first hand—
But only collected the small blind.
The game continued.
Sheldon had clearly entered what everyone recognized as "serious mode."
Unfortunately, the first thing his seriousness focused on wasn't strategy.
It was chip organization.
He meticulously arranged every stack by denomination, perfectly aligned with identical spacing and matching angles.
At one point, he even offered to organize everyone else's chips too, claiming it would "optimize the overall poker experience."
Ethan immediately stepped in to explain one of the most important rules in poker:
"You never touch another player's chips."
"Ever."
"Doesn't matter whether they're at the table or not."
"Absolutely forbidden."
Penny shuffled again and dealt the next hand.
Second hand.
This time Ethan spoke first.
He looked at his hole cards—
Offsuit 2 and 3.
He stared at them silently for two seconds before sighing and pushing them away.
"Fold."
That fold seemed to trigger something.
Howard folded almost reflexively.
Raj hesitated briefly before folding too.
In the blink of an eye, only Sheldon in the small blind and Leonard in the big blind remained.
Sheldon looked down at his cards.
One of his eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly before his expression returned to its usual icy rationality.
"A reminder to everyone," he announced seriously,
"from a statistical perspective…"
"If one wins the first round, the probability of continuing to win in the second round tends to regress significantly toward the mean."
After saying that, he glanced at his chips.
"Therefore…"
"I fold."
Ethan rubbed his temples.
"You're the small blind."
"Yes," Sheldon replied calmly.
"But my starting hand does not justify continued investment within a negative expected-value range."
Ethan sighed.
"Fine."
And just like that, Leonard won the hand uncontested.
He had clearly been waiting for this exact opportunity.
The moment the pot slid toward him, he immediately pushed the chips toward Penny.
"Tip for the dealer."
Twenty-five cents.
Ethan covered his face with one hand.
He was beginning to suspect organizing this poker night had been a terrible mistake.
Third hand.
Finally, Ethan received something playable—
Ten of hearts and nine of hearts.
Howard spoke first.
"Call."
Then Raj called.
Then Sheldon.
Then Leonard.
Every single person entered the pot.
Ethan shook his head.
Classic beginner table.
Nobody folded anything.
Trying to read hand strength in a game like this was practically impossible.
When action reached him, he thought for a moment and simply called as well.
Penny revealed the flop:
Ace of spades.
King of spades.
Three of diamonds.
Leonard checked instantly.
Ethan checked too.
Howard thought for a moment before betting one dollar.
The pot was $2.50.
Betting one dollar into that board…
Did he hit a king?
Ethan wondered.
Raj called.
Sheldon called.
Leonard folded.
Ethan considered things briefly—
Then folded as well.
Turn card:
Queen of spades.
Ethan blinked.
This board was practically screaming royal flush.
Action reached Howard.
Howard bet four dollars.
A heavy bet.
Raj…
Somehow still called.
Sheldon immediately threw his cards into the muck.
River card:
Jack of spades.
A royal flush was actually possible.
At this point, Ethan genuinely expected a war to erupt.
After all, a single spade was enough to make a flush now.
But unexpectedly—
Howard checked.
Raj…
Also checked.
Showdown.
Howard revealed:
Three of spades.
Four of hearts.
A tiny flush.
Raj revealed:
Ace of hearts.
Five of hearts.
No spades at all.
Howard won the pot.