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

The woman with the Buddhist amulet placed her bets in a manner that struck me as peculiar. The dealer commenced dealing the cards, and due to the substantial wager made by the woman, she was permitted to view the cards herself. 


To everyone's astonishment, the woman did not shift her cards at all. Instead, she signalled the dealer to reveal them directly. The dealer turned over two cards simultaneously: one was a club 2 and the other a heart 4, totalling 6 points. According to baccarat rules, with a total of six points, the Player cannot draw another card. 


It was now the Dealer's turn, and the portly man inquired about his cards. He hesitantly revealed the first, an Ace—worth a mere one point. He began to flip over the second card in the same manner as before, and the chant behind him rose again: "Three sides, three sides!" Yet, soon enough, the portly man flipped the second card, a 2, revealing a total of three points, which necessitated a draw. 


Chapter 247: Similarities