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

At this moment, I finally understood the concept of a blind man touching an elephant. Unable to see and unable to discern through touch, attempting to cheat seemed more daunting than climbing to the heavens. Perhaps my only recourse was to rely on luck and wager against him in a game. 


I slowly extended my hand, probing for a card. The man across from me was intently focused on my movements, watchful as if he anticipated an attempt at deception. After a protracted moment, I finally picked up a card, placing it face down on the table in readiness for him to draw. 


Noticing my lack of interest in the card, he quizzed, "Aren't you going to check what you’ve drawn?" 


I shook my head with a rueful smile. "Since this game relies on luck, what difference does it make whether I look or not?" 


Chapter 257: The Blind Man Touching the Elephant