Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 112: Fate Reversal, Peak Showdown of Psychological Game
“On the gambling table of fate, there is no such thing as luck, only carefully woven inevitability.”

The dim light casts mottled shadows on the gambling table deep in the sleeping chips.
The air was filled with the mixed smell of alcohol and cigars, as if even the air was slowly becoming intoxicated.

The card table inlaid with golden patterns glowed with soft light, which reflected on Lorient's fingertips and in his gentle smile, as if everything was still under control.

He slowly gathered his chips, his movements graceful and composed.

His smile was still appropriate, and his tone was as leisurely as usual, but the coldness hidden in his eyes was like a sharp ice blade that could no longer be concealed.

Across from her, Mrs. May's expression gradually tensed. She had been leaning gracefully against the back of her chair, but now she subconsciously sat up straight, her fingertips silently tapping the armrests.

Her smile had faded, replaced by wariness and anxiety.

Siming still looked as if he had nothing to do with it. He leaned lazily on the back of his chair, spinning the chips in his fingers.
It was as if the one who lost half of the chips in this game was not him, but just some irrelevant spectator.

Lorient's gaze slowly shifted towards him, his fingertips tapping the tabletop, his tone containing a hint of sarcasm and curiosity:

"Guest, are you really not in a hurry at all?"

"Listen to the sounds outside—"

The fourth whale cry suddenly sounded. The low sound seemed to come from the heart of the abyss, shaking the entire Whale Tomb.

The whale bones creaked softly, the card table trembled slightly, and the lights of the sleeping chips seemed to dim for a moment.

That is not a reminder of time, but the beat of death.

Lorient smiled and continued:
"After six whale calls, you still haven't left the Whale Grave..."

"I think you already know what's going to happen?"

Mrs. Mei paused her fingers on the table, her brows furrowed, and her lips tightened.

She looked at Sima Ming, but got no response.

Siming just yawned loudly, as if he had finally lost his patience with this gambling game, and said lazily:

"Two whale calls, more than 20 minutes."

"There's plenty of time."

Lorient's smile froze for a moment, barely perceptible.

He stared at Siming, his eyes slowly turning cold, trying to read any emotion, any hesitation in those eyes as deep as the night.

But inside, there is only fog, only mystery, and only an unpredictable abyss.

Mrs. May finally spoke in a low voice, with a hint of dissatisfaction and urgency in her voice: "If we lose another game, we will be out."

She doesn't have much time, and the dormant chips are not her battlefield. She must seize another key instead of wasting time with Siming at this strange gambling table.

Siming tilted his head slightly to glance at her, then sighed, his tone so light it almost sounded aggrieved: "Alright, alright...you're always like this, so impatient."

"I'm having a great time."

He slowly sat up straight, his slouched posture fading like the tide, replaced by a suffocating sharpness.

His smile remained, but it was no longer gentle, and his eyes revealed a heart-pounding depth.

He looked at Lorient, his voice low, the words like nails hitting the heart.

"Lorient, do you know?"

"This bet is over from the moment you sit down."

Siming's fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, as if he was calculating something.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on Lorient.

"Have you heard of Supreme Card?" Siming's voice was low and magnetic. Lorient kept smiling, but his eyes were a little cold.

"The power of the Supreme Being is difficult for mortals to fathom." Sima Ming continued, his tone understated, but it made people feel a chill.

"If you're smart enough, you might be able to guess a thing or two."

Lorient didn't respond, but narrowed his eyes slightly.

"The Supreme Mysteries are not invincible, but they control beings outside the rules."

Siming's voice seemed to be recounting an ancient truth. "Do you want to know how my 'secret' works?"

Lorient tapped his fingers lightly on the table, as if thinking.

Siming smiled slightly and spoke slowly: "'Destiny Weaving' only needs to consume one Star of Reason to tamper with the outcome of the current gambling game at will.

This tampering is not based on the thread of fate, but on the 'past that has already happened.'"

Lorient's eyes became deeper. He couldn't be sure if this was true, but if it was true...

Sima Ming chuckled and continued, "Lorient, you are lucky. But you know what? I am luckier than you."

Lorient frowned.

"Before coming to the Sea of ​​Dreams, I spent a whole week releasing all my misfortunes. Now, my luck has reached 99.99%."

Sima Ming paused, looked directly at Lorient, and spoke in a calm tone, as if stating an insignificant fact.

"Do you know what this means?"

Lorient's fingertips subconsciously stroked the dice, his body leaning forward slightly, as if his thoughts were affected by the rhythm.

"That means you only have a 0.01% chance of defeating me."

Lorient's smile finally froze. He knew full well that a 0.01% probability was practically impossible.

He clenched the dice in his hand and began to wonder if he had fallen into a trap.

The thing that gambling masters hate most is uncertainty.

He was originally full of confidence, but now, he is no longer sure whether he can win.

Siming raised the corner of his mouth, his eyes deep: "Then, next - let me prove it."

At this moment, Lorient's mind was in a dead end.

He began to doubt himself, would he really lose? He looked at the cards in his hand hesitantly.

At this moment, Siming's pupils shrank slightly, and the world seemed to split into countless intertwined threads before his eyes.

Invisible threads of fate emerged in the air, like a giant spider web, each thread leading to Lorient's card box.

Fate's whisper echoed in Siming's ears: "How can a mere high-ranking Fate know me? I am the Highest, the true master of fate."

The thread of fate has been gently plucked, and the rules have changed.

Lorient still didn't notice, his mind was still suppressed by "the power of the Supreme" and "99.99% of fate's favor", trying to find a way to break it.

But he will never know what Sima Ming did.

Lorient looked up at Sima Ming and suddenly felt that this man was too calm.

He finally realized that this person had already taken control of the game.

Lorion narrowed his eyes, his tone calm, yet with an unprecedented sense of oppression: "You...what did you do?"

(End of this chapter)