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

Three swift slashes later, Eighth Brother lay collapsed, unconscious from the pain. The speed of Auntie Wyatt's attack left Golden Chain Man and Centipede stunned. As they rushed to his aid, Auntie Wyatt's bodyguards intervened, but too late. Just as they neared, two resounding thuds echoed – Golden Chain Man and Centipede lay sprawled, felled by Dark, wielding a splintered chair, the legs snapped clean off. Auntie Wyatt looked surprised, but Dark, with a guileless grin, explained, “They tried to ambush you; I merely assisted. No thanks necessary!" 


Auntie Wyatt frowned but nodded in acknowledgement. It was obvious that Golden Chain Man and Centipede had not intended to attack Auntie Wyatt; they lacked the courage. Dark had seized the opportunity to exact revenge for his previous injury. 


Chapter 142: Plea for Help