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

Another hand with a very high chance of winning. 


Rolf took a fierce puff of his cigarette, slapped the table, and said loudly: 


Then, he told me to deal with the third card. 


Before I could deal, Dark suddenly spoke. 


Pointing to Rolf's pile of money, he asked: 


"The table has hundreds of thousands, and you only have eighty or ninety thousand. It's not enough, right? If you want to take them all, you have to put down cash. You can't use your mouth to take them!" 


Hearing Dark say this, he was a bit embarrassed. 


But he still looked at the money in his hand and said: 


"I have a total of eighty-six thousand here. I'll take them!" 


But Dark immediately shook his head and said: 


"That's not good enough either. What if you hit the middle column? What will you pay?" 


Chapter 62: Nine Out, Thirteen Back