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 shouted, his eyes wide open. 


His round eyes seemed as if they would pop out of their sockets. 


Before I could speak, Alaric suddenly burst into laughter. 


"Who are you? You’re a big fool! And your so-called gambling sect illusion technique? You’ve deluded yourself!" 


Jerome Ren turned his head and glared at Alaric, shouting: 


"Nonsense, my gambling sect illusion technique can’t fail!" 


With that, Jerome Ren turned back to me and shouted angrily: 


Not only Jerome Ren, but everyone present was bewildered. 


No one understood what this much-hyped gambling sect illusion technique was all about. 


I lit a cigarette, glanced back at Ophelia, and said: 


Her jade hand rested on the railing beside her. 


Seeing Ophelia, Jerome Ren said indignantly: 


Chapter 487: A Crushing Defeat