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 had initially surmised, the suitcase undoubtedly contained cash. Yet, at the moment that the case was unlatched, both I and those surrounding me found ourselves momentarily bewildered. 


Before us was a seemingly professional small suitcase. Inside lay not money but rather an array of test tubes, each filled with various liquids, meticulously arranged in neat rows. What was the purpose of this? 


In an instant, a prevailing sensation washed over me—this enchanting woman seemed to inhabit a realm distinct from my own, her actions utterly incomprehensible to me. 


She donned a pair of blue polyethene gloves. As she exhibited a deft proficiency, I became momentarily disoriented. This place felt less like a gambling den and more akin to a laboratory—a setting of which I had never been apart. 


Chapter 316: Cheating