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

Sunny and Eason were present in the casino, moving back and forth. 


The consecutive losses over recent days had left both of them quite overwhelmed. 


I casually observed for a moment before being drawn to a baccarat table. 


Upon closer inspection, I noticed a group of gamblers gathered around a man in his forties. 


His expression was grave, and he sat nervously before the table. 


Dressed well in a brown leather jacket, he wore a Rolex on his wrist. 


Before him lay chips worth over a million. 


His belt was concealed beneath his sweater, entirely out of view. 


I glanced at the casino's dynamic chart, which displayed only three or four red and blue circles. 


It appeared the game had only just commenced. 


No one at the table had placed any bets. 


All eyes were fixed on this middle-aged man. 


He suddenly waved his hand and firmly declared a single word: 


"Fly" refers to a situation where nobody places any bets. 


Chapter 250: The Belt