Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 1: Lies of Fate
Angel's Tears, the city that never sleeps in the desert, a gambling city built of money, desire, deception, madness and miracles.

There is no distinction between day and night here, only casinos with lights that never go out and people who are swept up by wealth and fate.

Some people come with dreams, some leave with despair. The gambling table is their altar, the chips are their faith, and probability is the biggest joke God plays on them.

Here, some people become rich overnight, while others lose everything. But no matter what, everyone is deceiving themselves into believing that they can overcome fate.

Sima Ming was sitting at the tournament gambling table of "Golden Fantasy", one of the most luxurious casinos in this gambling city, like an ordinary and inconspicuous gambler.

"My name is Siming, a nameless guy who's good at counting cards and hangs out in the casino."

He silently recited this "self-introduction" for tonight in his heart.

This was one of the countless nights he had lived in this gambling city.

His survival rule is simple: he enters the casino with 600 silver coins every day, 300 of which is his overnight fee, and the rest is his "entertainment fund" for tonight.

——"No matter how much I win or lose, gambling is just a way for me to make a living, and playing with people's hearts is my entertainment."

Sima Ming never cares about winning or losing, nor does he become obsessed with winning huge fortunes.

He was used to seeing those unlucky guys who had a 99.99% chance of winning but were defeated by a 0.01% miracle on the river.

They confidently put all their chips in, and then watched fate laugh at them in the most ridiculous way.

He knew that probability was just a lie woven by fate, and those who believed in it would end up hurt.

Therefore, he never believes in probability, he only believes in human nature.

Poker is a game of probability and psychological warfare.

But in Siming's eyes, its real core is "role-playing".

In every bet, he would create a suitable "self" to make his opponents mistakenly believe that they had grasped his weaknesses.
Then completely defeat them when they are most relaxed and confident.

"When my opponent thinks they have defeated me psychologically, that's when their defenses are at their lowest."

Tonight, he plays a math and science kid who is good at calculations.

He plays cards cautiously, and every bet is calculated. He will not act rashly without a sure chance of winning.

He missed out on several big jackpots, but he didn't care - he knew that when he should be "regretful", he should be upset naturally.

He frowned, looked at the good hand he had just missed, and sighed softly.
His fingers unconsciously stroked the chips, revealing a hint of regret and unwillingness at just the right moment.

"That's what's real, right?"

The poker tournament has entered its final round, with only four players remaining.

The tension in the air was growing, but Sima Ming still maintained a steady pace, neither anxious nor impatient, like a "cautious and calculating player" who perfectly fits the setting.

He could feel the other player's eyes locked on him, and the other player was beginning to think he had figured out his style of play.

Great, this means the game has finally entered its interesting phase.

Players at the table were eliminated one after another, and the tournament entered the most crucial heads-up game.

——In the end, only Sima Ming and a strange guy were left.

The man looked to be about fifty years old, his skin looking sickly pale under the lights of the casino, but his eyes were sparkling with excitement.

He was wearing a wrinkled shirt with loose cuffs, as if he had no restraints at all.

His laughter was too wanton and too arrogant, completely inconsistent with his appearance.

But the strangest thing is that he is ridiculously lucky.

He clearly looks like a rookie, playing cards based on his feelings and never doing probability calculations.

But he turned the tables on the river again and again, and took home one pot after another with a smug smile that said "fate chose me."

And his behavior at the gambling table makes people feel that he is not a gambler, but a devout believer of some strange belief.

"Fate has destined you all to be unlucky tonight."

"Haha, once again, the goddess of fate favors her believers."

"You are all fighting against the odds, while I am submitting to fate."

His mumbling was so soft that it was almost inaudible amidst the background of the casino, but Sima Ming heard it clearly.

——"This guy... is quite interesting."

Siming could have ignored it, but the existence of this uncle was a paradox in itself - he scoffed at probability, yet he won the most unlikely games time and time again;

He kept muttering "fate", but he was turning things around at the gambling table.

He is using fate to defeat everyone's rationality, and Sima Ming is the one who least believes in fate.

Now, a science student from the Department of Mathematics who values ​​probability above all else has to face a fanatic believer in fate.

——This game is interesting just thinking about it, isn’t it?

The uncle had just won a big jackpot and was obviously in a very good mood. He even picked up a black chip from the table - 100 silver coins, and casually gave it to the dealer.

"Thank fate, praise her for letting you deal the cards for me."

The dealer was startled, then quickly nodded and thanked him, with a hint of hidden joy in his eyes.
After all, the income of casino dealers is not that high, and extra tips are always welcome.

The corners of Siming's mouth rose slightly, and his interest in the uncle grew stronger.

— “Is this some kind of ridiculous ritual of faith?”

Destiny? What is that?
The reason he can continue to gamble in this game is not because of fate, but because he has not met a real opponent yet.

The next move, the beginning of the decisive battle

Licensing.

Siming has a good hand, the King of Hearts and the Queen of Spades, a very promising starting hand.

He still maintains a cautious and calm mathematical style, building his own role bit by bit - cautious, calculated, and winning rate first.

Four community cards land - the king of spades, the ten of hearts, the six of clubs and the two of spades.

Everything was as he expected.

Siming keenly captured the uncle's micro-expression changes——

He didn't draw the card he wanted, but he was still smiling.

What does this mean? It means that he is stealing chickens.

Or rather, he was praying that fate would favor him again.

"Bet on probability?" Siming took a look at the calculated winning rate, a number that satisfied Siming.

"That's a pretty good odds... for a 'math science student.'

He pushed down a precise amount of chips, which made his opponent feel threatened by his good hands without forcing the uncle to retreat.

If the other party was an ordinary gambler, he would have folded long ago.

But this uncle is no ordinary gambler.

The corners of his mouth raised in a playful arc, and then he actually raised the bet!
——"Aren't you calculating your odds? Haha, what a shame, fate doesn't rely on probability."

Sima Ming laughed in his heart, what a rookie.

If the uncle goes all-in directly, Sima Ming will find it difficult to deal with it, but this raise is the stupidest choice.

Because - this means that he himself has no chance of winning and is just betting on the river card.

Sima Ming followed suit calmly.

The river card falls – the Queen of Hearts.

100% winning rate.

The goddess of fate did not favor her believers this time.

The uncle's smile froze slightly when he saw the river card, but he still pretended to be calm and opened his hand -

Club Soldier, Eight of Hearts, a complete bluff.

He had hoped for a miraculous comeback on the river, but he only had a very low probability left, and this time, it seemed that the goddess of luck was not on his side.

"Fate... Haha, it seems she sometimes forgets her believers."

The uncle shook his head in self-mockery and looked at Siming.

——The boy from the mathematics department defeated the child of destiny.

Siming had a calm smile on his face, seemingly expressing his joy for victory appropriately but not too ostentatiously, which perfectly matched his image of being "cautious and rational".

But he knew that the game had just begun.

This is not an ordinary game. There is something strange hidden in this uncle.

Siming nodded to the dealer, reached out to collect the chips that belonged to him, and stared calmly into the uncle's eyes, observing the changes in his expression at the moment.

But what surprised Siming was that there was no loss on the uncle's face, nor even a trace of unwillingness. Instead, he showed an excited smile.

It was as if he had finally found someone worth betting everything on.

“Interesting… so interesting!”

"You don't believe in fate, do you?"

"Then let me see if your 'art of probability' can defeat fate!"

Siming smiled lightly, and a thought came to his mind——

——"Then give it a try."

In the casino of Angel's Tears, lights and shadows flow, chips clink, the dealer's voice is unhurried, laughter and lamentations are intertwined, and fate, at this moment, silently weaves its lies.

The uncle is crazy.

His eyes were bloodshot and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if his mind was possessed by some demon.

He has already put most of his chips on the line, betting on his fate.

Siming could see that he had good cards this time, and the three public cards were quite consistent with his playing style. It could even be said that the goddess of fate was on his side again.

The uncle's eyes fell on Siming, and an almost arrogant smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, as if silently provoking:
——"Come on, aren't you a math expert? Let's see if your probability can beat my luck."

Siming narrowed his eyes slightly, he was very interested.

——"After playing the role of a science student all night, tonight is finally the time to reap the rewards."

He glanced down at his hand.

——A completely bad hand of cards.

Extremely low winning rate, close to zero.

But what does this matter?

This is not a mathematical problem, it is a human problem. Siming's face showed a hint of hesitation, and his fingers tapped the chips on the table, as if he was doing extreme calculations.
His expression was meticulous, and there was even a drop of sweat on his forehead. If a psychologist were present, he would probably think without hesitation that he was in deep thought.

But in fact, he already had the answer in his heart.

——This move must be all-in.

He slowly raised his head and looked at the uncle, with a faint smile on his lips, as if he had finally calculated a winning answer.

——“All in.”

The chips piled up into a small mountain.

The uncle was stunned.

He played all night and only saw Siming Stud Poker twice, and each time, the cards had almost a 100% chance of winning in a mathematical sense.

And this time, it’s the third time.

Cold sweat began to seep out of the uncle's forehead.

He seemed to see the card in Siming's hand, an invincible card with a 99.99% winning rate.

Does he dare to gamble? Does he dare to gamble on this 0.01% possibility?

But what if you don’t gamble?

He has already bet too much tonight, and if he folds now, he will lose everything.

He had been gambling all night.

He had never had such luck before - from the very beginning, he had climbed up the ladder, defeating countless gamblers, and his pockets were once filled with chips. He thought that his chance to turn things around had finally come, that he could finally pay off his debts and start a new life.

And all this is because of the Thousand Faces Card in his hand.

It was a strange card. He didn't remember how he got it. He only remembered that when he held it for the first time, a strange whisper sounded in his ears - it was a tempting, bewitching, and irresistible voice.

"You are the one chosen by fate."

"Go ahead and win your fortune."

At first, he was skeptical. But then, his luck began to improve. Every bet, every game, he won by a narrow margin. Even in the most critical moments, the table seemed to be moving in his favor.

however……

All this changed subtly after the gambler, Siming, sat in front of him.

The creditors in black stood quietly in the corner of the gambling hall, their eyes cold and ruthless, as if they could take his life in the next second.

Dilemma.

The uncle's hands were shaking.

He subconsciously looked at the two men in black in the corner, trying to find a hint of forgiveness in their eyes.

But creditors only care about one thing - they don't care about fate, they only care about debt.

Gamble or die.

The uncle looked at Siming desperately, as if begging.

Siming raised the corner of his mouth, as if he just remembered something, and picked up a black chip from the table.
He played with it gently in his hand, then pushed it with his index finger, and the black chip rolled in front of the uncle.

——"Oh, by the way, there's this one too, don't forget it."

pat.

The slight sound of the landing was like a thunderclap that completely crushed the uncle's psychological defenses.

"Let's fold."

The whispers of the Thousand Faces echoed in his ears.

"You've already won a lot, haven't you? There's no need to gamble with him this last time."

"If you keep gambling, you'll lose everything... You see, no matter how high your odds are, you can't beat a completely irrational lunatic."

"Why not give up? Switch to another table, try a simpler game, like—the slot machine over there?"

The uncle's breathing suddenly stopped, and his eyes glanced at a corner of the casino, where there was a slot machine flashing with dazzling light, surrounded by cheering gamblers.

——"Maybe my luck has run out..." ——"Maybe I will really lose this time?" ——"Maybe I should try my luck somewhere else?"

His consciousness began to waver, and the whispers of the Thousand Faces became more and more tempting:

"You're not suited to poker. You're suited to simpler games."

"Don't bet with him, you will lose."

——“But…” The uncle was still struggling in his heart.

But at this moment, the illusion emerged.

The moment he saw himself going all-in, Siming's lips curled up slightly with a disdainful smile, and he gently spread out the cards in his hand -

He lost.

They lost completely, without even a chance to resist.

At this moment, the men in black in the casino stood up and walked towards him.

Someone grabbed his hand.

A cold dagger was pressed against his wrist, slashing fiercely—

puff!

His palm was cut off, blood splattered on the gambling table, and fear grew wildly in his body.

He saw himself being pinned down on the gambling table by the men in black. They grinned and mocked him, their sharp blades cutting through his flesh, and he no longer had the strength to resist.

His wife and children stood on the street, ragged and hungry, begging.

Their home was mortgaged, everything they had was taken away, and his daughter looked at him with hatred instead of the respect she once had in her eyes.

——"Dad, why did you hurt us like this?"

He tried to explain, but his throat had been slit and his blood was all over the floor.

Fear consumed him madly.

At this moment, he completely collapsed, with a faint gasp coming from his throat and his face pale, as if he had completely seen the ending that he was powerless to change.

In reality, he took a deep breath, his pupils suddenly contracted, and cold sweat ran down his body.

——"That's just an illusion!"

He screamed wildly in his heart.

But his reason could no longer stop him from making a decision.

He withdrew his hand tremblingly, and his body seemed to have lost all strength.

"Discard."

These two words spilled from his mouth with bone-chilling fear.

He gave up.

He gave up the favor of fate and his last hope.

He doesn't dare to gamble anymore.

The chips on the gambling table were taken away, and Siming's fingers stroked the black chip, as if he was playing a perfect deception.

The uncle stumbled to his feet, as if his entire soul had been stripped away.

He held the last chip tightly in his hand, and he murmured to himself to encourage himself that there was still a glimmer of hope. As long as he left this nightmarish gambling table, he might be able to survive.

He walked slowly towards the slot machine, the crowd ignored his departure, the light and shadow cast a lonely shadow on his back.

He lost almost everything.

When he passed by Siming, his footsteps paused slightly.

——"Don't you want to know my cards?"

Sima Ming whispered, his tone as if he was casting a final curse on others.

The uncle didn't look back, but his shoulders were shaking.

— “It’s a shame, that was a mixed hand.”

"If you follow, you win."

boom--

These words were like a dagger piercing the uncle's soul.

The uncle's legs lost strength and he almost staggered to hold on to the corner of the table. He opened his eyes wide, as if trying hard to see Siming's face clearly.

——At this moment, he finally understood.

All of this is not a matter of probability at all.

——He himself lost. He was the one who was manipulated by Sima Ming, who had given up on his fate, on that "tiny possibility."

His lips trembled, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just slowly took out a strange card from his arms and handed it to Siming.

His voice was faint, as if coming from another world:
——"Truth and lies... Its true name is—the one with a thousand faces who weaves fate..."

Sima Ming narrowed his eyes and took the card.

And the uncle just disappeared in the crowd.

The hustle and bustle of the casino continued, the dice flipped in the air, the chips fell to the ground, and the dealer's voice was like reciting a poem of fate.

Siming stood in front of the counter, ready to exchange chips.

But at this moment, there was a commotion at the other end of the casino.

"problem occurs!"

"Oh my God, how could he be like this?!"

Siming turned around and saw a crowd surrounding a slot machine called "Goddess of Destiny".

The uncle fell in front of the slot machine, his mouth open, eyes wide open, his expression frozen in extreme pain and regret.

——He is dead.

But the strangest thing was that his body seemed to be drained away in an instant, leaving only a layer of loose human skin. He was like a deflated skin bag, lying limply on the ground.

The last image on the slot machine's screen froze on the icons of the three goddesses of fate, flashing a bright red light.

(End of this chapter)