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

"Very well, you are quite ruthless! Remember, this is not the end between us!" 


With that, Fenris turned on his heel and strode away. 


"You can leave, but it must be according to our wager. Kneel and crawl out!" 


Suddenly, Fenris broke into an unpleasant laugh. 


"Alright, so you want to invoke the wager? Allow me to fulfil my end of the bargain!" 


No sooner had he spoken than he lunged at me, brandishing a bottle of wine. 


Over the years, he had little need for such skills. 


As he reached me, I stood my ground, motionless. 


The bottle loomed dangerously over my head, about to shatter upon impact. 


In an instant, I raised my hand, clasping his wrist with my left while deftly twisting with my right. 


In one fluid motion, I seized the bottle from him. 


The resounding crack echoed as the bottle collided forcefully with Fenris's skull. 


Chapter 300: The Fiery Tree and Silver Flowers