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

As I passed by the blackjack table, I cast a glance at the alluring woman. She appeared hesitant, preparing to place her bet. 


“Pursuing a profession requires rationality!” I ventured. 


Instantly, she turned her head and regarded me with a look of surprise, yet her gaze soon shifted back to the chips in her hand. 


At that moment, I understood her predicament. The battle between logic and the cravings of a gambler played out before her—a struggle where victory would rely solely on her fate. 


The three of us made our way downstairs, while Aeliana remained hidden from view. We entered a tea house, and as soon as we were seated, I ordered a pot of tea. After pouring for my companions, I directly inquired, “What have the two of you been drinking at the venue?” 


“Lord Alaric had a bottle of mineral water, while I opted for a glass of juice! Why do you ask?” Dark and Lord Alaric responded with curiosity. 


Instead of answering, I pressed on, “How are you both feeling now?” 


Chapter 312: The Gambler's Bait