During the years when I ascended to the pinnacle of gambling, I was enveloped in a world where luck intertwined seamlessly with strategy. The thrill of risk was my constant companion, and every hand dealt was an opportunity to weave a tale of fortune and fate.

In those vibrant nights, the casino lights flickered like stars, each glimmer promising untold possibilities. The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and the intoxicating perfume of ambition. My every decision was calculated, and executed with precision, as I danced with the tides of chance, confident in my ability to bend them to my will.

I became known not only for my remarkable skill but also for a certain charisma that drew others to me. Players regarded me with a mix of admiration and trepidation, for I was not merely a participant in the game—I was its master. The cards whispered secrets to me, and I understood the language of the dice as if they belonged to a realm where I reigned supreme.

Yet, amidst the glamour and glory, this intoxicating world concealed its shadows. The very allure that elevated me to greatness also harboured treachery and deception. I found myself ensnared in a web woven by those who coveted my prowess, eager to see me fall from grace.

In those years, I walked a fine line between triumph and disaster, relishing every victory while remaining ever-vigilant against the unseen perils that lurked in the shadows.

The Years I Was The Gambling God

Not receiving any response from me, the Centipede twisted his brows and stared daggers at me. 


He menacingly threatened, "I asked you a question! How dare you talk back to Ba Ge? I'll give you one last chance to apologize to him!" 


In the past dozen years, the instances where I smiled didn't exceed ten times. However, this time, my smile was different. It was a cold, angry smile. 


Without warning, I raised my hand swiftly and grabbed the teapot on the desk with all my might. In one forceful strike, I brought it crashing down on the Centipede's head. 


A loud clang resounded, and the Centipede wobbled before collapsing to the ground. The glass teapot shattered instantly, its shards flying in all directions. 


Even as the Centipede attempted to rise, he struggled but could not. 


Tea and blood mingled, trickling down his shiny bald head. 


"Don't you dare move..." he managed to utter weakly. 


Chapter 36: Dignity Above All