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

Garten Chen rose abruptly and strode toward Li Yue, who remained frozen on the floor. 


He plucked a tissue from the table and dabbed at the blood on her forehead. 


"Tell me," he murmured, "did anyone force you to drink just now?" 


Garten Chen’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. 


"Not completely stupid. Just annoying when you cry. Get out. I’m bored of you." 


Li Yue scrambled to her feet and bolted from the room. 


His glare burned with fury, but without Garten Chen’s order, he dared not act. 


The night resumed its usual rhythm: drinks, karaoke, idle chatter. 


Then, mid-song, Garten Chen beckoned Red Hair close and whispered something I couldn’t hear over the music. 


When he finished, Garten Chen turned to me, eyes glassy with a drink. 


"Ning says you want my help getting my old man to settle your coal payments, right?" 


Chapter 462: Hook and Counter-Hook