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

Lord Alaric and Dark were engaged in light-hearted banter. 


Under normal circumstances, I would have found it amusing and smiled. 


As we approached the dog racing arena, I noticed a crowd of common folk gathered near the fence. 


Despite the biting cold, their spirits remained high as they shouted fervently at the racing dogs inside: 


Years ago, during my visit to the dog racing arena in Haojiang City with Varg, we witnessed a professional greyhound race. Unlike here at Jun's, where even mixed-breed dogs had a chance to participate. 


Arriving in front of a makeshift hut, I spotted a plump middle-aged man seated in a tattered armchair, warming his hands by the fire while occasionally glancing at the racing area. 


I fixated on the blue-spotted scorpion tattoo on his right hand. 


Chapter 204: Jun