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

Jerome Ren still had that enigmatic, half-smiling expression. 


For some reason, when I met his gaze, I felt a bit uneasy inside. 


Could it be that this so-called illusion technique of the gambling sect exists in this world? 


At this moment, my somewhat abnormal state made Alaric increasingly nervous. 


He suddenly stood up and pointed at Jerome Ren, shouting: 


"Stop pretending and talking nonsense about some damn illusion. I ask you, is there something wrong with your cigarette?" 


"Cigarette?" Jerome Ren picked up the cigarette box beside him, examined it from both sides, and then suddenly threw it towards Alaric. 


"Why don’t you take a look and see where the problem is?" 


With that, he also raised the small, burning cigarette butt in his hand. 


"Do you want to taste this cigarette butt too?" 


Although I was nervous inside, my rationality was still intact. 


Chapter 485: Varg