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

Seated in Matthew's Acura, we shared cigarettes as we awaited the emergence of the young gambling prodigy from within the casino. 


After a considerable amount of time, he finally appeared. 


I took special notice of his waist, discerning that his belt, which had previously been prominently displayed, was now concealed beneath his clothing. 


This only solidified my belief that the issue lay with that very belt. 


The young gambler hailed a taxi, and Matthew promptly followed suit. 


The rationale behind this decision was simple; I believed that those who consistently won were often unfamiliar faces in the gambling world. 


Surely, behind these newcomers, there existed an orchestrator. 


The gambler's taxi halted in front of a modest hotel. 


He exited the vehicle, clutching a bag of cash, and directly stepped inside. 


Casting a glance toward the entrance, I instructed Matthew, 


Chapter 252: A Brief Camouflage