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

Bald Liang's countenance was grim. I, however, met his gaze with a deliberate, taunting smirk. 


"Brother Liang," I began, my voice dripping with sardonic amusement, "didn't you boast that your establishment was utterly devoid of master gamblers? I've apprehended them all for you, yet your men still refuse to yield passage?" 


The gambling tables stood deserted, their former occupants now a throng of spectators, captivated by the unfolding drama. 


Liang cast a chilling glare my way, yet remained strategically silent before such a sizable audience. My accusation of cheating was shrewdly worded; any public retort from him, the owner, could precipitate the complete unravelling of his operation. 


"Let them through!" he finally commanded, his tone terse. 


His subordinates immediately parted, allowing the middle-aged woman and the portly young man to be brought forward. 


Chapter 129: The Roadblock Tiger