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

The vendor placed three seeds into the dish. Anyone with normal eyesight could see what was happening in an instant. 


In moments, several men eagerly rushed to place their bets. "This round is odd, three seeds—I saw it!" one declared confidently. "Yes, it is indeed odd; I’ll wager two hundred!" another chimed in. "I must join in; such a golden opportunity to win won’t come by again!" 


One man even pressed down firmly on the dish's cover, as if to prevent the vendor from surreptitiously adding seeds. Don't mistake these individuals for fools; they were anything but. In reality, they were clever and in league with the vendor, often referred to as "assistants" or "shills." In the lexicon of gambling’s lower echelons, they call them “plant agents,” individuals deliberately placed among the gamblers to incite the crowd to wager. 


Chapter 81: Retribution