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

The two competitors reached an agreement, but Derrick interjected first, stating, “You two should wait for a moment; allow me to deal with this presumptuous little girl before anything else!” As he spoke, Derrick's cohort promptly brought forth the tools required for the competition. 


At the forefront was a blazing brazier, beneath which dangled a small iron ring, heated until it glowed with a fiery hue, resembling the size of a copper coin. Meanwhile, another of Derrick's lackeys placed two eggs on the betting table, accompanied by an empty bowl. 


I found myself puzzled by Derrick’s intentions. He glanced at the eggs before addressing Aeliana directly: “To peel an egg with bare hands, using tools to fetch the ring. The egg must land in the bowl unbroken. The first to retrieve the ring and place it in the bowl shall claim victory. Do you dare, you little yellow-haired girl?” 


Chapter 348: Barehanded