Small tiger

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

Chen Chengbei's commotion attracted an ever-growing crowd around us. Among them were a few familiar faces, such as Gonzalo, Zheng's swift blade, and Mad Kun, the right-hand man of the second boss. Additionally, there was Verruckt, one of the four notorious bandits who had once ambushed me. Yet, these individuals appeared merely as spectators, revelling in the unfolding drama. 


I remained silent, reaching for a cigarette on the table and lighting one up. Taking a leisurely drag, I countered him once more: “Pray tell, what do you wish me to do?” 


Just moments ago, Chen Chengbei had worn a derisive expression. Now, however, his demeanour turned icy as he gestured with two fingers. “Two options: you can choose. First, call me 'Grandpa' three times and kneel at the train station for an entire day. Second, deliver Aeliana to me, so I might have a proper discussion with her...” 


Chapter 224: The Retreat