Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 104 The Eve of the Gamble: The Foreshadowing of Fate
"The outcome of the bet has already been decided before it even begins."

“Destiny is an invisible chip, and I am the only winner.”

"Some of the trials on the Whale Grave will test your sword, while others will test your will."

"And the dormant chips only test one thing—your destiny."

In the heart of the Whale Tomb, war is raging.

In the arena, Alison, Baroque, Ian and the major pirate groups were engaged in a bloody battle. The sounds of fighting, gunshots, and roars echoed back and forth between the bone walls, as if the entire whale tomb was spewing out anger and murderous intent.

In the black market, pirates fled in chaos, their panicked breathing and hurried footsteps forming another kind of noise - every corner was occupied by the struggling will to survive.

Except for the dormant chips.

The passage leading to the most deadly gamble on the Whale Tomb was now deserted.

The long and narrow deck stretched out like a spine, the damp air was filled with the smell of old metal and salt, and the sound of footsteps was empty in the depths.

Siming and Madam Mei walked side by side with steady steps.

It is a silent determination, not belonging to those warriors roaring in the blood and rain, but to those who are willing to bet their souls.

It’s not that no one knows this road, but that no one dares to come.

The pirates who scurried past them had horror in their eyes, and their terrified whispers carried by the sea breeze were keenly picked up by Sima Ming:
"A casino in Lorient?! Are you crazy?!"

“No one who goes in can come out!”

"No matter how lucky you are or how good you are at gambling, you will lose everything there...even yourself."

"You think you've won? No, you've only fallen deeper into despair."

Siming narrowed his eyes slightly, and slowly raised the corners of his lips, revealing a lazy and dangerous smile.

He twirled a black chip between his fingers, his movements casual yet unmistakable in his composure.

"It seems we are the only guests willing to enter this casino."

He spoke softly, his voice seeming to mock those who had not yet stepped into the threshold of hell.

Mrs. Mei smiled gently, her expression as charming and calm as usual, but her eyes revealed a rare solemnity.

Ahead, the door where the chips were sleeping had already emerged from the black fog.

It is as tall as an altar, cast in deep-sea bronze, with whalebone reliefs embedded in the facade.

Every inch of the lines seemed to be whispering, and the dark blue gem in the center was like an eye gazing into the soul, quietly watching the gamblers.

"Because everyone understands," Mrs. May whispered, her voice blending into the tide, "This is... a gamble that is impossible to win."

Siming stopped, his gaze leisurely examining the door that seemed capable of swallowing people. There was no fear in his eyes, but instead a hint of amusement.

He stretched out his slender fingers and flicked them lightly. The chips on his fingertips spun in the air, made a "pop" sound, and fell back into his palm.

"Impossible to win?"

"It's just that they won't win."

He pushed open the door and entered.

The Sleeping Chip Casino is as weird and luxurious as the legend says.

The golden candlesticks drooped with low flames, the light was dim, and cast shadows on the wall like shadows swimming in water.

The air was filled with the faint aroma of cigars, mixed with the gamblers' whispered conversations and secret breathing.

This is the true heart of Whale Grave—tender and cruel, seductive and devouring.

Siming walked slowly forward, his eyes sweeping across the gambling table and the lights, his movements as graceful as a king.

He seemed more at ease than the air here. Every move he made seemed to have been rehearsed a thousand times.

Mrs. Mei followed lightly, a smile on her lips, but her eyes were filled with sharp scrutiny.

"Aren't you worried at all?" She said it casually, but there was a hint of coldness hidden underneath.
"If we don't win this bet—and get the key—before the sixth whale call, we'll truly become their slaves."

Siming didn't even turn around, simply tossing a chip, catching it, tossing it again, catching it again. His rhythm was so natural, his fingertips seemed to be dancing.

"Worry?"

He chuckled softly, his tone as gentle as the night, but hiding an unfathomable sharpness.

"My bad luck has long been thrown into the sea and drowned by me."

"Now I am invincible."

He looked at the VIP gambling table in front of him that seemed to be reserved for him and smiled slightly.

"Ma'am, don't be nervous."

"Enjoy my performance."

Deep within the sleeping chips, the lights grew dimmer. A huge black gambling table stood quietly in the center of the space. The top was polished from whalebone, with dark patterns winding like the tide.
It was as if the "Sleeping Lord" was quietly watching the gambler who was about to sit down through these lines.

And the dealer has been waiting for a long time.

Lorion Sylvester, the gambler king of the Whale Grave, the true owner of the dormant chips - the one who controls the deepest gambling game of the Whale Grave.

He was wearing a well-tailored black suit, sitting elegantly on the side of the gambling table, his slender fingers slowly fiddling with a pair of black dice. There were no words on the dice, but they seemed to contain the marks of fate.

His gaze swept across Siming and he smiled faintly. His eyes were mixed with scrutiny, detection, and a hint of amusement that was difficult to conceal.

"Oh, you're here."

"I have been waiting for you for a long time, sir."

His voice was gentle, but without a trace of warmth. He extended his hand and made a "please" gesture.

It was as if he was just an attentive dealer in an ordinary casino, inviting people to sit down, and his smile was as casual as a trivial greeting.

Mrs. Mei smiled softly and sat down gracefully. "So enthusiastic? I'm really flattered."

Lorient shrugged slightly, his smile still on his face, and spoke in a light tone, like an old friend greeting:

"I've been unlucky lately, so I hope I can get some good luck from you two."

"Of course, I also hope that after you win money... you won't be stingy with your bounty."

He smiled and tapped the table, but there was a cold vortex like the deep sea in his eyes.

Siming glanced at him, tapped the edge of the table with his fingertips, and spoke in a lazy tone with a hint of sharpness:
"In that case, where are our bargaining chips?"

Lorient took his time and pushed two stacks of golden chips towards the two of them. The overlapping shadows of the gold coins shone with charming brilliance in the dim light.

Six thousand chips were pushed towards Sima Ming.

Four thousand chips were pushed towards Mrs. Mei.

Siming's eyes narrowed slightly, and his fingertips slid across the edge of the chips, feeling cool and delicate.

The corners of his lips curled slightly, and his tone was gentle, but it revealed a hint of meaningful coldness:

"So… what's the 'value' of these chips?"

Lorient paused for a moment, then smiled slowly, his voice like a whisper coming from within the whalebone:
"You two's arrival is already a bargaining chip."

Mrs. Mei raised her eyebrows, and the smile on her lips became lighter and colder.

Siming leaned back in his chair calmly, the chip between his fingers twirling and reflecting the faint light. His tone was slow, as if he was repeating, as if verifying:

"in other words……"

"If we lose all these chips, will we become your 'dormant believers'?"

Lorient nodded, smiling as usual, his tone like an old friend explaining the rules of the game:
"of course."

"But I don't think a dignified 'holder of destiny' would be defeated so easily here, right?"

Siming narrowed his eyes and smiled. His smile was light, yet sharp.

"So... what are we going to play?"

Lorient's eyes wandered between them for a moment, like a connoisseur, carefully appreciating the luster of his prey.

He casually pulled out a deck of black cards with gold edges from the corner of the gambling table and gently tossed it into the air.

"Twenty-one. Blackjack."

"I think this game... is enough to satisfy you."

Siming tapped the table with his fingers, his eyes gradually became hot, and there was a fanatical light hidden under his smile.

"of course."

“My favorite.”

He turned to Mrs. May, his eyes like a knife and an invitation.

Mrs. Mei raised her hand and took a sip of wine, a charming smile appearing on her red lips.

"Of course, I'd be happy to help."

The gambling game is over and the chessboard is on.

In the abyss of dormant chips, the gamblers of fate are about to engage in a showdown with no way out.

"Since it's a gamble, there should be winners and losers."

"Are you ready to lose?"

(End of this chapter)