Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 28 The Hunt Begins

“The hunt is never over, it’s just that the prey is naive enough to think they have a chance.”

The night was dark, and the dome of the Blood Castle was shrouded in deep shadows.

It is like an invisible cage, isolating the entire world between the living and the dead.

The candlelight flickered, its faint light dancing on the marble table, casting scarlet shadows.

It's like blood flowing through a crack, quietly wetting the gamble of fate.

The air is filled with the smell of old rust, which is the smell of dried blood deposited over time.

The gambling game was coming to an end, and only two people were left at the table.

The Duke and the God of Destiny, the hunter and the gambler, the ruler on the throne and the manipulator in the game.

There was a dead silence all around. Loren, Natasha, Avel and the others remained silent.
Even the usually restless Roca relaxed his shoulders, as if some invisible shackles had finally been loosened.

However, this sense of relaxation did not reach Siming. His heartbeat was still rapid, and the chips in his hand rubbed against his palm slightly.

There was a subtle touch.

He believed he had succeeded in weakening the Duke's advantage.

Eliminate the Blood Marquis, disintegrate the psychological advantage of the blood clan, and move forward step by step to approach the most fair confrontation.

Now, he only needs to take one last step to completely turn the tables.

However, at this moment, he realized something was wrong.

The Duke smiled.

It was not an angry smile, nor a disappointed smile, nor even a bitter smile of being forced into despair.

It was the smile of a hunter who was finally willing to hunt seriously, with a chilling sense of leisure and playfulness.

The Duke slowly raised his eyes, his scarlet pupils like blood-red gems under the candlelight, reflecting a dangerous and deep light.

He raised his fingers and tapped the table lightly. The sound of his knuckles hitting the marble was steady and powerful.
Each hit is like a countdown, reminding the prey that death is not far away.

"Nice warm-up." The Duke's voice was low and leisurely, like a whisper in a cold night.

His tone was flat, without any ups and downs, neither anger nor joy, as if the gambling game just now was nothing to him.

It was just an insignificant pastime. "But the game has just begun."

boom--

The air suddenly stagnated, and an invisible pressure instantly enveloped the entire space, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Siming's back suddenly tightened, and his blood seemed to freeze at this moment.

He had never felt such a terrifying sense of oppression—not a threat, nor was it simple fear.

It is an absolute control rooted in instinct, like seeing a god overlooking the world and judging those mortals who try to glimpse the divinity.

It was a feeling of dominance that could not be described in words.

It was not ordinary coercion, nor was it arrogant brutality, but absolute authority forged through a thousand years of war.

The imperial power forged by seas of blood and mountains of corpses enveloped the world like night, making all resistance futile.

Siming finally realized——

He was wrong.

He always thought that he was fighting against a gambler.

But from the very beginning, he was sitting before a real tyrant.

And the tyrant never regarded him as an equal opponent.

In the hall, all sounds disappeared, and the air seemed to become sticky and suffocating.

Even Loren, who was standing beside him, quietly tightened his fingers, and Natasha turned her head away, not daring to look directly into the Duke's eyes.

The majesty of the blood clan is not only reflected in their bloodline, but also in their thousand-year rule, which is enough to make people submit instinctively.

Siming's thinking began to become sluggish, and he found that he couldn't even think rationally about the Duke's next step.

Whenever he tried to analyze and calculate possible ways to play the cards, the terrifying feeling of oppression would flood his consciousness like a tide.

Tearing all calmness and deduction into pieces.

His sanity was being stripped away bit by bit, like a drowning man thrown into the abyss. No matter how hard he struggled, he could not escape the fate of sinking.

This is a complete crushing.

When humans face a predator, the body automatically chooses fight or flight.

But now, Siming didn't even have the right to choose - his body was stiff, his thoughts were stagnant,

Like prey caught by a beast's throat, he couldn't resist, couldn't even retreat. "Your hand," the Duke suddenly said, his voice so gentle it was almost sarcastic.

Siming suddenly came to his senses.

Only then did he realize that his fingers were hovering in the air and he had not yet taken the two replacement cards handed to him by the Duke.

He held his breath, his heart beating violently in his chest, and his palms felt slightly cold.

"What?" The Duke's smile deepened, and his slender knuckles gently rubbed the table.

It was as if it was patiently waiting for the moment when its prey would struggle to exhaustion. "Are you scared?"

Siming closed his eyes and tightened his fingertips slightly.

He had to calm himself down.

He can't lose this round.

He took a deep breath and reached out to take the cards.

However, his fingers trembled slightly.

He was stunned for a moment, almost unable to believe it.

damn it……

He was actually shaken.

The candlelight flickered, reflecting on the table and reflecting the faint light flowing between the chips.

The air was filled with the unique coldness of the vampires, as if time had frozen, with an unsettling silence.

The first round of betting begins.

The Duke did not hesitate at all, and gently pushed with his fingers.
The metal chips slid onto the table, making a crisp sound, like a distant death knell.

He pushed in half of his chips, his posture casual and his eyes calm, as if all this was just an insignificant game in his long life.

He is the dealer, controlling the rhythm and also the prey.

Siming glanced at the cards in his hand, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the paper. The familiar touch brought him a moment of peace.

He tried to calculate the probability, returning to the deductive mode he was best at, and letting reason prevail again.

But just as he was about to push his chips in—

The Duke raised his eyes.

It was just a slight movement, and even the smile on his face did not change.

But those scarlet pupils cast an irresistible oppressive force like an abyss.

Siming's hand stopped.

Time seemed to stand still for a second.

He hesitated.

This hesitation lasted only a moment, but it was enough for the Duke to see through his mentality.

That instinctive delay silently announced his disadvantage at the moment.

The Duke's fingertips tapped the table, and the elegant smile that showed his control of the situation still hung on the corner of his lips.
There was a hint of understated victory in his eyes.

"You have already lost."

A trace of cold sweat seeped out of Siming's forehead, and his heartbeat quickened in the silence.

For the first time, he felt truly powerless at the gambling table.

He tried to look away and look at Loren, seeking some support, but——

Loren just stared at him silently, his eyes deep and complicated.

He saw it too.

This is not an ordinary card game, nor is it a fair gamble.

Everything, from the moment the rules were established, had already determined the Duke's victory.

The Duke never intended to engage in a confrontation on equal terms.

He only allowed Sima Ming to move on the chessboard for a while, and then when he thought he could turn the tables, he overturned the chess game with his own hands.

The real gamble has just begun.

And Sima Ming has been dragged into the hunting trap.

(End of this chapter)