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

It was not a deterioration of my hearing, but rather the extraordinary sensitivity of the mobile phone's microphone, which allowed no external sound to penetrate. 


After returning the phone to the captivating woman, I observed that the bald man, formerly brimming with bravado, now wore a smile that seemed almost disingenuous. 


“Ladies and gentlemen, I have just received a call from a distinguished gentleman. For those who have lost today, I assure you that refunds will be granted. However, allow me to establish a condition: our establishment is undoubtedly secure. The refunds are merely an act of respect towards this esteemed individual. I implore you, do not disseminate any fabrications outside…” 


The bald man's reasoning was indeed quite meticulous, as he refused to acknowledge the legitimacy of the woman’s experiment. 


Chapter 317: Unveiling