The Years I Was The Gambling God

In other words, if indeed the dice reveal three matching twos, my ten thousand dollars would swell to one million. However, such a probability is exceedingly slim.

My betting strategy had naturally drawn the attention of the surrounding gamblers, who gathered closer. Yet, they regarded me with the bemusement typically reserved for an eccentric fool.

"Bets are locked in!"

The dealer called out.

I observed as he subtly inclined his body.

At that moment, I knew he was preparing to cheat, intending to use his knee to press the remote control hidden beneath the table.

Suddenly, the dealer's expression shifted dramatically; his brow furrowed, and his gaze darted to a man outside the crowd.

Although I didn't turn around, I could surmise that this individual must be an undercover lookout or a supervisor within the casino.

The specifics of their silent communication were of no concern to me; I kept my eyes fixed on the table, on that ominous black dice cup.

"Let's see the result—what's the holdup?"

As the dealer delayed in revealing the dice, anxious patrons urged him on.

His demeanor grew increasingly grim.

He shot me a glance, and his trembling hand slowly descended onto the dice cup.

Yet, it seemed he was unwilling to concede just yet.

At the very moment he revealed the contents, he discreetly attempted to manipulate the devices one last time.

Alas, he was met with disappointment once more.

"Unveil the result!"

A raspy voice called out from behind me.

This voice belonged not to a gambler, but to a member of the casino staff.

Only then did the dealer slowly lift the cup.

A murmur of astonishment swept through the room.

Beneath the cup lay three dice, perfectly aligned, each displaying the same number: two!

Three twos!

I had struck gold!

All eyes in the casino turned toward me once more, and the stares that had once been laced with scepticism transformed into admiration, envy, and awe.

Mei, brimming with delight, threw her arms around my shoulders with childlike exuberance.

"We did it, Lupan! We did it!"

I was acutely aware that we had indeed prevailed. Moreover, I realized that the dealer's remote control had lost its efficacy.

And all of this was orchestrated by me.

As I placed my bet, I had deftly pressed my foot against the sensor, rendering it completely ineffective.

This little device was both small and sensitive; a single press caused it to fail.

This explained the dealer's sudden change in expression—he had recognized that his remote control had malfunctioned.

As for my success in rolling three twos, it was owed to my acute hearing.

In the gust of wind, I could distinguish sounds and their origins.

This had been Varg's teaching over thirteen years.

He had once proclaimed that if one could not master this skill, they ought never to step onto the dice table.

The dealer studied me for a long moment before coldly remarking,

"Brother, you're playing quite boldly!"

He placed particular emphasis on the word "boldly," serving as both a warning and a veiled threat.

After all, I had effectively rendered his remote device useless.

Before I could respond, Mei spoke up immediately from behind me.

"What do you mean 'bold'? Just pay us our chips already…"

The dealer's expression darkened, and he fell silent.

The chips on the table were insufficient to cover my winnings.

At that moment, a man approached, holding ten golden chips, each valued at one hundred thousand.

He gazed at me with a hoarse voice and said,

"Sir, you're in luck; here are your chips…"

This man appeared to be in his thirties, and while his tone was courteous, his eyes were dangerously keen.

He was gaunt, his limbs resembling little more than skin stretched over bones.

"From this point forward, I will oversee this table. I trust you won't mind if I replace the dealer?"

Changing dealers in a casino is a common practice, often executed without informing the gamblers involved.

The reason for his inquiry was clear: he recognized me as a skilled player.

As he spoke, the thin man swiftly replaced the dice with another set.

He gestured for the onlookers, "Please inspect the dice. Should you have any concerns, you may smash them open for verification. However, if you do, the cost of the dice will be yours to bear!"

Some gamblers stepped forward, performing the motions of inspection.

Yet, even if the dice were flawed, these fools would be oblivious.

Seeing no further scrutiny, the man turned to me, inquiring,

"Sir, won't you check them as well?"

I shook my head.

There was no need for me to inspect them.

As he rolled, I could discern the sound and determine whether the dice were faulty.

There exists a distinct difference in sound between skilled dice and common ones.

Moreover, each face of a standard die emits a subtly different tone when it strikes the ground.

For instance, a one, bearing only one pip, produces a pure sound; while a six, with its multiple pips, emits a sharper tone.

Noticing my inaction, the thin man lifted the cup.

With a swift motion, he deposited the three dice inside.

His movements were quick and fluid.

This technique, known as "The Wind Sweeps Through the Willows," appears casual yet is executed with precision to align the orientation of the dice faces for his desired outcome.

It was evident that this man was a master of the game.

While he shook the cup, he occasionally scratched it with his fingernail, attempting to mask the sounds and confuse any astute listeners.

Of course, this relied on the assumption that his opponent would be listening.

He was firmly convinced that I would.

The dice cup danced in his hands, and his gaze remained fixed upon me.

As the cup shook, his techniques adapted seamlessly.

With a sudden clap, the cup was placed on the table.

The emaciated man gestured grandly to the crowd,

"Please place your bets!"

Yet, no one at the table moved.

Every eye was on me, eager to discern whether I would wager, and if so, on what.

I idly toyed with the golden chips in my hand without placing a bet.

Seeing my inaction, the gaunt man remarked,

"Sir, why the hesitation?"

I maintained my silence.

"Are you afraid your luck will run out, hesitant to wager again?"

He placed particular emphasis on the word "run out," as though to remind me that despite my earlier triumph, winning against him would be a different matter entirely.

In theory, a casino would calm a gambler if their cheating was discovered—an effort to avoid scandal and preserve business.

Unexpectedly, this thin man was audacious, relentlessly taunting me.

"I am willing to wager, but I have a request…"

I replied coolly.

"Speak."

"Lift the betting limit!"

Casinos impose betting limits on general tables to maintain balance and create an illusion of fairness that attracts casual players.

High-stakes games usually occur in VIP rooms.

"How much do you intend to wager?"

The thin man asked.

"One million, all in. Will you accept?"

My declaration brought a sardonic smile to the man's face, filled with disdain.

"Accepted, though it seems a tad modest—you may want to increase your wager!"

His confidence in his dice was palpable.

I shook my head.

"Only this million; I cannot add more!"

His gaze turned more predatory, fixing on my hands as he coldly remarked,

"If you lack funds, we can wager your hands instead."

The force of his words sent a collective gasp through those present.

I frowned at this blatant intimidation.

This was not a high-stakes duel of gamblers but merely a casual game.

Yet this casino was behaving oddly.

They were the ones who had cheated first; even with the disabling of his remote, he should not be so aggressive.

Did they genuinely believe I wouldn't expose their deceit?

Before I could respond, Mei, standing behind me, chimed in,

"What are you talking about? We're not wagering anything but this million! Just tell us if you'll accept or not…"

The thin man sneered dismissively.

"Accepted; place your bets!"

Ten golden chips, each worth one hundred thousand, were pushed onto the "large" bet.

"Bets are locked in. Are you certain you wish to wager this amount?"

The thin man questioned with a cunning grin.

I chose silence.

I despised idle chatter, especially with someone like him.

"Then I suppose I shall reveal the result!"

With that, the thin man prepared to unveil the dice cup.

"Wait!"

I interjected suddenly.

He lifted his gaze to me.

"Do you wish to increase your bet?"

I shook my head.

"For this round, I would like someone else to reveal the dice."

The thin man's expression darkened, and he retorted,

"Why?"

"Because I simply loathe you!"