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 three men stood thunderstruck, particularly Broderick, whose countenance had turned ashen. He simply could not fathom the astonishing events unfolding before him. 


“You, your hand…” he stammered, the words barely escaping his lips. 


“What of my hand?” Lord Alaric feigned ignorance while gathering his winnings. 


Broderick, with great difficulty, suppressed his curiosity, unable to directly accuse Lord Alaric of cheating. All he could question was the adequacy of his skill in not managing to secure three Aces. 


“Didn’t you claim your hand was the strongest?” Broderick pressed, his internal turmoil evident as he averted his gaze from his cards. 


“Oh, I meant to say I possess the highest pair!” Lord Alaric casually responded, dismissing Broderick’s concern. 


Broderick appeared utterly crushed, his face a portrait of despair. 


Chapter 364: The IOU