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

With our contention settled, the tension that had enveloped the room seemed to dissipate, allowing Elysianne to release a breath she had been holding. 


Peering thoughtfully out the window, she finally spoke, her brow furrowing in contemplation: 


"I have never heard of such a young master of gambling in Harbei City. Who could this person be, and why have they chosen to target my establishment?" 


Nine-Fingered Remnant nodded in agreement, adding, "This young man is undoubtedly a master. I sense that in the realm of soft cards, he is not too distant from the expertise of the old ghoul..." 


The "old ghoul" he referred to was the renowned Six-Fingered Ghost, another master of the gambling arts raised by the Zou family. 


Elysianne sighed, a hint of frustration lacing her voice as she lamented, "Ah if only Uncle Ghost favoured me as much as he does Fenris; perhaps he could have aided me!" 


Chapter 159: Veils of Mystique