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

Yet I had remained stationed at the gaming table, never once approaching his side. 


Lord Alaric occupied the seat at the front, while Eden Martha lingered at the rear. 


The distance between them was considerable. 


Even if Lord Alaric were an adept contortionist, hiding a card in his pocket was implausible. 


This was the source of Eden Martha's confusion. 


It was also the reason he did not dare admit our connection. 


Of course, Eden Martha had no inkling. 


Within our company, there lurked an expert from the ranks of thieves, Aeliana. 


And such experts do not engage in trifling endeavours. 


When they strike, they orchestrate monumental deals. 


“Damn it, you’re framing me! I don’t have any cards in my pocket; you placed them there...” 


The bald man raised his hand and slammed it upon the back of Eden Martha's head. 


“Caught red-handed, yet you still wish to deny it?” 


Chapter 315: Dashing Elegance