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

Golden Chain Man, having spoken, fixed me with a malevolent gaze. Eighth Brother, however, maintained his jovial facade—a well-worn tactic. He affected a camaraderie with me, while Golden Chain Man glared with open hostility. A stark contrast: one dark and cold, the other light and warm. Their strategy seemed twofold: intimidation and appeasement. 


Dark, his keen eyes flashing, barked, "What's this about? Let's talk. One-on-one, or do you want your whole crew involved?" His audacity was boundless, his finger pointing directly at Golden Chain Man's underlings. 


Before Golden Chain Man could respond, Eighth Brother raised a hand, silencing him. "Let's settle this after the game. Don't worry, my friend’s here. I won't let your finger be broken for nothing. He'll make amends!" His smile, directed at me, was laced with cunning. "Am I right, brother?" 


I nodded. "Indeed. If there's still time after the game, I'll ensure Golden Chain Man receives satisfaction." 


Chapter 136: A Thorn in the Side