Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 113 The Gambler Who Controls Fate

“The biggest mistake a gambler who manipulates his fate makes is thinking he can control the game.”

The echo of the fourth whale cry vibrates in the casino where the chips are dormant,
Like a low death knell, mourning for the souls that are about to be swallowed by the Whale Grave.

Lorient's eyes remained calm. He exhaled slowly, his mind still racing.

He doesn't need to defeat Sima Ming.

He only needed to let Sima Ming continue to use that terrifying and mysterious ability to burn the Star of Reason again and again.

As long as he persists long enough, Sima Ming will eventually reach the moment when his sanity is exhausted.

He has nine stars, Siming only has six. This difference alone is enough to determine the outcome.

As long as he doesn't panic, as long as he can stabilize the situation and delay time quietly, the final winner... will still be him.

Lorient narrowed his eyes, as if whispering to himself.

Come on, let's see who can last till the end.

He smiled, shuffled the cards expertly, and put the shoe back in place.

His movements were graceful and calm, like an experienced dealer, presenting his guests with an exquisite feast of gambling techniques.

Licensing.

He controlled the entire process with his usual calm demeanor, his fingertips sliding across the card shoe and lightly placing the poker cards on the gambling table.

He is still the banker of this gamble and the helmsman of destiny.

However, when Sima Ming's first card fell on the table - the Ace of Spades, Lorient's pupils suddenly contracted.

The second card was slowly turned over, and it was again - the Ace of Spades.

His heart tightened and his breathing stopped for a moment.

According to gambling rules, Double A can be split into two parties, each playing independently. And this is just the beginning.

"Split."

Siming smiled lazily and pushed his cards away, as if he was casually opening a book he had already read.

His voice was not loud, but like the words engraved on a tombstone, it coldly announced the end of a gambling game.

The two Aces of Spades were split and then turned over again - Ace of Spades, Ace of Spades.

Split again.

The fifth card - Ace of Spades.

The sixth card is the Ace of Spades.

The seventh, eighth... are all Aces of Spades.

Mrs. May's breathing almost stopped, her eyes were wide open, and her fingers trembled slightly on the table.

She was no idiot at gambling, she knew exactly what this meant.

This wasn't luck. This was tampering, some inexplicable interference of fate.

Lorient's fingertips trembled slightly, and he even began to doubt whether he had really shuffled the cards and whether he had really dealt the cards himself.

Why did everything suddenly become so strange?
This is his gambling table, his rules, his cards...but nothing belongs to him anymore.

The aftermath of the fourth whale cry had not yet dissipated, but a real storm had already begun at the gambling table deep under the sleeping chips.

Cold sweat broke out on Lorient's forehead, as if an indescribable chill was slowly climbing up his spine.

He finally realized that something was quietly going out of control, and this loss of control came from an opponent he had thought he had already mastered.

"Go on." Siming raised his hand lightly, his tone nonchalant, as if he was just ordering a cup of tea.

Another card fell—the Ten of Spades.

Then came the second one, the third one... one after another, like a nightmare extending to the edge of reality.

Every card seemed to be pulling away the confidence in Lorient's heart, and every time the Ten of Spades was turned over, it was a contempt for the real order.

The moment the eighth spade, 10, fell, the casino seemed to fall into absolute silence.

Eight decks of blackjack. Eight winning hands of 21. The onlookers' eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Even Mrs. Mei, who was always calm and composed, could not hide her shock and excitement. She turned her head sharply to look at Siming, her voice so low it almost trembled, "Dear...how on earth did you do that?"

There was an almost insane light burning in her eyes, not because of victory, but because this victory was beyond her entire understanding of gambling and fate.

Lorient stared at the card game in front of him, as if he was nailed to the chair.

His fingers loosened, and the dice rolled onto the table with a snap, drawing a cold arc.

His lips moved, but no sound came out. He could only ask himself over and over again in his heart: How is this possible?

He shuffled the cards himself and dealt every card himself, making sure that every step was flawless.

But now, he watched with his own eyes as this gamble slipped out of his control, just like sending a ship into the center of a storm with his own hands.

When was fate... tampered with?

He slowly raised his head and looked at the man opposite him. Siming was lazily leaning back in his chair, as if he had just finished an effortless card game.

There was that usual faint smile on the corner of his mouth, but his eyes held unfathomable depths.

"Lorient," Sima Ming's voice was neither hurried nor slow, as if he was recounting an old story. "Can your destiny's dice still save you?"

These words pierced Lorient's heart like a knife.

He lowered his head and glanced at the last card in his hand.

4 of hearts.

Club 7.

Square 10.

--21 o'clock.

Strong hands that are enough to defeat most gamblers are meaningless in front of eight perfect blackjacks.

He stared blankly at the cards in his hand, his breathing became irregular and his chest rose and fell.

Suddenly, his fingertips moved slightly, as if he wanted to pick up the dice of fate.

He still had a chance... He still had control over his fate... He could still change—

But just before his finger was about to touch the dice, he stopped.

He got it.

In this round, he no longer had the power to turn the tables. Sima Ming hadn't just changed the outcome of the bet; he had fundamentally deprived Lorient of the right to "change his fate."

What he lost was not just chips and cards, but the initiative of his entire "destiny".

He lowered his hands gently and closed his eyes.

After a moment's silence, Lorient finally spoke in a hoarse voice: "You win, guest. The key is yours."

Siming stood up, casually put the key into his bag, and threw the other one lightly to Mrs. Mei.

Madam Mei took it with a smile, her eyes and eyebrows showing shock and excitement: "Dear Siming, you are so charming."

Siming didn't answer, but just stretched and walked towards the casino door.

His back stretched out in the dim light, as if a nightmare had left reality.

Lorient remained seated, his fingers gently fiddling with the dice, remaining silent for a long time.

"Two stars..." he murmured in a complicated tone.

"The holder of the Supreme Being... is indeed quite capable."

He looked down at the dice, his eyes gradually becoming darker. He knew that although the gambling game was over, the real game had just begun.

He looked into the distance, and an unfathomable smile slowly appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"With only four stars left, how do you plan to escape next...weaver of fate?"

(End of this chapter)