Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 13: Magician's Tricks, Gambler's Chips
"Tricks, gambling, fraud, every card turned over is a game.

What you see may not be real, but what you don’t notice may be the real stakes of your fate.”

"Dear distinguished guests, welcome to the 'Theatre of Destiny'."

With a flick of the black silk glove, a dozen playing cards flew up.

Like a group of butterflies illuminated by moonlight, they circling and interweaving in the air, drawing invisible tracks.

The card surface shone with a warm luster under the firelight.
The smooth rotation and precise landing are like an elegant dance woven by fate.

Snapped!
The last card fell back to the fingertips, firmly clasped between the index and middle fingers.

It just covered the numbers on the card, leaving only a dark red pattern in the corner, like a drop of dried blood.

In an instant, applause and whistles broke out in the tavern.
Gold and silver coins jingled on the table, a reward for the performance and a recognition of the magician's skills.

Some people exclaimed, some were excited, and some squinted their eyes, trying to see the secret he was hiding in his sleeve.

But the secret itself is the real fun of this game.

Sima Ming smiled slightly, his eyes revealing a kind of nonchalant confidence.

He gently shook the playing cards in his hand, and the subtle friction sound between the cards was like the low hum of a predator's tail in the dark night.

He knew this was more than just a show.

This is a test, a transaction, and even more a hunt.

The people in the pub probably thought they were just there to see a magic show.

But those who really understand the matter have already smelled something unusual behind this trick.

A slender figure moved silently in the crowd, its movements as nimble as a cat.

Celian lowered her head and quickly picked up the silver coins scattered on the ground.
His fingers were long and flexible, and his movements were so smooth that it seemed as if he was doing something very natural.

No one paid attention to her, but she would occasionally cast meaningful glances at the magician on the stage.

She seemed to be observing, or silently taking note of some details.

In a corner of the tavern, a woman in a gorgeous dance dress leaned against a wooden pillar.
He crossed his arms over his chest, a nonchalant smile on his face.

Natasha.

Her identity today is a "striptease girl" and she was supposed to perform with Sima Ming to add a bit of intoxicating charm to this gambling game.

But she obviously had no interest in this identity and even hated it.

She slowly walked to Siming's side, leaned forward slightly, and opened her red lips.

His voice was extremely low, with a hint of danger in it: "You'd better not be complacent for too long, Siming.

Don’t forget, we’re here to complete a mission.”

Siming's eyes did not even shift, and he still maintained that calm smile.
The cards in his hand turned slightly, as if in response to her words.

"But I haven't forgotten, Natasha—the most important thing about a good play is not how it begins, but how it ends."

There was something in the corner, staring at them.

That gaze was hidden in the shadows of the tavern, like a dormant hunter.

Imitating someone's behavior in the dark, capturing every tiny movement.

Was it Natasha? Celian? Or... Sima Ming himself?
That shadow existed in a tiny corner, without making any sound or breathing.

It just sits there quietly, observing, thinking, and waiting for the right moment.

Siming tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, and caught a glimpse of the hidden breath from the corner of his eye.

The corner of his mouth curled up slightly, and he flipped the playing card in his hand, revealing the pattern on the card -

The Hanged Man.

He whispered in an almost imperceptible whisper:
"Scholar, how much have you learned?"

The eyes in the darkness shrank for a moment, like a prey that had been caught, but it did not answer.

It remained hidden in the shadows, observing silently, as if waiting for some more important signal.

This card of fate that has not been turned over is still waiting for its time to be revealed.

The Moon Hunter Tavern was still bustling with activity, the laughter of drunks and the shouting of gambling intertwined into a cacophony of sounds.

But this night, the magician on the stage, the wandering striptease girl, the cat-like girl moving through the crowd,

And the peepers hiding in the shadows are all conducting an unknown temptation.

Each of them is gambling, each of them is hiding something, and each of them is acting out a show.

But the question is - who is the real protagonist of this drama?

And who is just an unknown supporting role pushed onto the stage by fate?
The game continues.

But some chips have been turned over silently.

“Destiny is a game, and the most dangerous gambler is often the quietest spectator.”

The lights in the Moon Hunter Tavern were dim, and the air was filled with the spicy smell of strong liquor and the damp smell of old wood.

There was also the smell of blood that had not been completely washed off the adventurers.

Drunken gamblers sat around the wooden table, shouting, gambling, and boasting about their feats in the world of gambling.

But tonight's clamor wasn't focused on the boastful astrologers, but rather on a card magician.

Siming smiled slightly and flicked his black silk gloves.
A dozen playing cards suddenly rose into the air, as if pulled by an invisible wind, gracefully flipping and interweaving like a flock of dancing butterflies.

The card surface shimmered in the candlelight, and after dancing smoothly for a few circles, it landed precisely on the fingertips.
They stacked together just right, leaving a crisp "pop" sound.

Applause, whistles, and low laughter intertwined, accompanied by the clinking of silver coins. This was not only the audience's recognition of the performance, but also the chips they were willing to pay for this visual miracle.

Just as Siming put away the last poker card and prepared to leave, a shadow blocked his view.

"You seem to be too into the game, Siming."

A familiar low voice carried undisguised impatience. Siming looked up and saw Loren standing in front of him.

He was wearing the same long black trench coat as always.
The hem of his clothes swayed slightly with his steps, like a wolf locking onto its prey.

His gaze was sharp, with a hint of scrutiny, and his dark eyes seemed to see through everything beneath Sima Ming's disguise.

"What a bummer, Loren." Siming sighed lightly, raised a helpless smile at the corner of his mouth, and leaned lazily on the edge of the table.

"Are you going to deprive me of the freedom to earn a little money?"

Loren snorted coldly and interrupted impatiently:

"Stop talking nonsense. Have you forgotten the real purpose of your coming here?"

The drinkers around stopped what they were doing, and the originally lively atmosphere in the pub subtly changed at this moment.

Some people pretended to continue gambling, but their ears pricked up quietly.

Someone took a sip of wine and glanced at the two people out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure out how intense the tension in this confrontation was.

Siming shrugged and smiled leisurely: "Didn't you separate us? Shouldn't you find a way to reunite us?"

The corners of Loren's mouth twitched slightly, and he was obviously very angry at Siming's attitude.

He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and stared at Siming sharply: "Do you know that I will definitely come back to find you?"

Siming raised his eyebrows, pointed around, and said lazily:
"This is the best intelligence gathering place in North Town. If you can't find me, it only means that you are more stupid than I thought."

There was a burst of laughter from the crowd. Apparently, some people were enjoying Siming's venomous provocation.

Loren's expression turned completely gloomy.

His knuckles tightened slightly, as if he was trying hard to control his emotions. In the end, he just took a deep breath.

He asked in a low voice, "So what information did you find?"

Siming's smile was a little playful, he was playing with the playing cards in his hand,

He gently twirled a card he had just picked out between his index finger and thumb, and said nonchalantly:
"Of course -"

"First, this world belongs to the vampire race."

Loren's expression instantly turned ugly, and he sneered:
"Are you kidding me? This information is worth zero."

Siming leisurely flipped the playing cards in his hand and sighed lazily:

"Secondly, Beizhen, the manager of the land under our feet,
One of the four great blood lords of the vampire clan, the beloved daughter of the tyrant duke, the 'Blood Moon Princess', has disappeared."

"That's the real reason why they're picking on your boss, Huck."

Loren's expression froze, and his eyes became sharper in an instant, as if he was measuring the truth of these words.

The air in the tavern seemed to freeze for a moment.

The onlookers exchanged glances with each other. It was obvious that the weight of this information was far heavier than they had imagined.

Some people quickly lowered their heads and pretended to continue playing dice, while others quietly adjusted their sitting posture.
Allowing himself to draw his weapon more quickly—like a pack of hounds instinctively on guard before a storm.

Loren stared at Siming intently, his eyes deep as if he was thinking about something.
His fingers tapped the table unconsciously, the rhythm slow and restrained.

"Are you sure?" His voice dropped a few notches.

"Of course I'm sure." Siming smiled slightly, and a silver coin slipped out of his fingers.
He deftly turned it over with his fingertips, causing it to reflect tiny glitters in the light.

Celian walked silently to Siming and gently picked up a few scattered coins.
Her fingertips seemed to brush against Siming's palm carelessly, with a hint of temptation.
As if trying to glimpse something from this "card playing master".

Siming did not avoid her touch, still maintaining that nonchalant look.
The corners of his mouth curled up slightly: "You know, I'm a gambler."

Loren was silent for a moment, his eyes dim and unclear, and he tapped the table with his knuckles again, as if calculating something.

Natasha looked at Siming, then looked at Loren.
He chuckled softly, "So, you people from the Golden Country really don't know anything."

Siming smiled meaningfully.

Loren's eyes flickered slightly, and finally, he said slowly:
"Then, here comes the question. If the vampire princess is truly missing, could her whereabouts be related to some outsiders?"

This sentence made many people present frown.

Outsiders - this is the general term used by the vampires to refer to strange travelers from the Gate World, and they are the outsiders.

Siming tapped the tabletop lightly with his fingertips and said with a smile, "Oh? You doubt me?"

Loren's gaze remained unwavering. "You are not a trustworthy person, Siming."

Siming laughed and said jokingly:
"What a shame. I don't know any vampire princess, and I have no interest in kidnapping her."

Loren was silent for a moment, as if weighing the pros and cons. In the end, he just nodded slightly: "I hope so."

Siming narrowed his eyes slightly. He knew that this game had just begun.
And I have been pushed to the center of the chessboard.

Celia didn't say anything, but just stood aside quietly.
Her eyes moved between Siming and Natasha, and finally quietly swept over the vague black shadow in the corner.

She murmured something to herself, but no one could hear what she said.
But the corners of her mouth lifted slightly, revealing an intriguing smile.

"Well, Siming," Loren said slowly, his eyes deep, "are you willing to take a gamble?"

Siming flicked his wrist lightly, and the playing cards in his hand flew and spun.

Finally, it landed firmly in his palm. He looked up at Loren, his tone frivolous yet full of meaning:

"Of course, I'm a gambler."

(End of this chapter)