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

Old Wu's toss of the jewellery caused a ripple of unrest among the beggars. Although no one immediately collected the loot, many cast covetous glances towards the glittering spoils, their greed palpable. Yet, no one moved. 


The onlookers grew in number. A woman, perhaps fifty, couldn't resist the lure of the gold; as she bent to retrieve a piece, a beggar cried out, “Leave it! That’s ours!” 


The call triggered a scramble. The sight of a beggar moving incited others, a classic case of herd mentality. People often engage in actions they'd otherwise avoid if others initiate it. The onlookers joined the fray, capitalising on the chaos. The street erupted into a frenzied melee, a chaotic struggle for the discarded jewels. 


“Run!” roared Old Wu, and we plunged into the crowd, sprinting across the road, leaving behind the middle-aged beggar's enraged shouts, "Stop them! Catch those bastards!" His cries were lost in the maelstrom. 


Chapter 121: The Gambler's Graveyard