Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 66: Among the Villains: A Feast for the Madmen
"The game is set, the chips are down. Are you the winner, or the victim?"

"At this table, you can win everything, or you can lose yourself."

The moment Siming walked into the room, the atmosphere in the air seemed to suddenly change subtly.

This place is completely different from the casinos outside. There is no hustle and bustle, no noise, only a dull atmosphere filled with the strong aroma of cigar tobacco and a subtle sense of oppression.

In the center of the room, a heavy ebony gambling table was quietly placed. The tabletop was inlaid with a golden frame, and the dark red velvet tablecloth was mottled by the wear of time.

Cigar smoke rose slowly, and the lights cast a half-bright, half-dark shadow, as if even the light was suppressed in the corner of the room.

Sitting at the head of the gambling table was the master of the Sin Table—Old Horn.

He was a short old pirate with a red beard, wearing a dark blue silk shirt and an old flintlock rifle at his waist.
A cigar was held between his thin fingers, and smoke curled around his fingertips. Although he was short in stature, he exuded a very intimidating aura.
It seemed as if everything in the room - even the flow of air - was under his control.

What is even more eye-catching is the graceful oriental woman on his legs.

She was wearing a red silk cheongsam, the close-fitting cut outlined her curvy figure. The brocade was embroidered with gold cloud patterns, and it emitted a faint luster with her slight movements.

She had fair skin and slender wrists. She held a red folding fan in her hand, swaying gently, half covering her face and revealing only her charming and deep phoenix eyes.

Her lips were a rich, deep red, like ripe berries, and the corners of her lips were slightly raised in a dangerous smile.

She slowly stood up and walked towards Siming and his group with light steps. Every step seemed to be carefully calculated. It was neither hurried nor deliberate, but it made people feel inexplicably nervous.

"Oh? Horn, do you have guests tonight?" Her voice was soft, with a slight rise at the end. It was full of natural charm, but also revealed an elusive coldness.

Old Horn laughed and stretched out his hand to pinch her waist lightly, with a bit of pride and intimacy.
"Mrs. Mei, I, an old man, need to deal with a few young people tonight. I'll drink with you after I'm done."

Mrs. Mei chuckled, her red lips slightly raised, her eyes fell on Siming, examining this stranger who accidentally broke into the gambling game.

"Who's going to play tonight?"

As soon as the words fell, everyone's eyes turned to Siming.

Calvino nodded slightly. Alison crossed her arms with a playful smile on her lips, as if she had expected this scene.

Siming shrugged, spread his hands, and wore a helpless smile on his face: "Um, I, I."

But his gaze did not rest on Horn, but on Mrs. May, with a kind of deliberate provocation and insolence.

Mrs. Mei seemed to notice his gaze, her eyes turned slightly, and the curve of her lips deepened.

She walked closer to Siming and gently slid her fingertips across his shoulders. The soft touch was like a feather brushing against his skin, carrying a hint of elusive meaning.

"Well, my lovely little gambler, do you mind if I play this round with you?"

She whispered, her voice carrying a faint fragrance, gently penetrating into her ears.

Siming raised his eyebrows, smiled casually, and took her arm around her slender waist, whispering, "It's my honor."

The atmosphere in the room became more subtle, and even the air seemed to be filled with an ambiguous and dangerous atmosphere.

Old Horn looked at them and smiled even more widely.

He picked up an old deck of cards and shuffled the cards with his nimble fingers. The cards flipped quickly between his fingers, so smoothly as if he had done it a thousand times.

"Okay, players, take your seats, the game is about to begin."

His eyes fell on Calvino, and a meaningful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"Calvino, where are your chips? Why aren't they in their proper place?"

Calvino was silent for a moment, then slowly took out a dark gold coin from his pocket.

Nightmare Gold.

The moment it landed on the gambling table, the atmosphere in the entire room seemed to freeze instantly.

Everyone's gaze was drawn to the gold coin—or rather, consumed by the indescribable presence it exuded.

The light seemed to be absorbed by it, the air trembled slightly, and a hidden, suffocating sense of oppression slowly spread from the center of the gambling table. Old Horn's fingertips slowly brushed the nightmare gold, and the dark luster flickered faintly in his wrinkled palm.

He narrowed his eyes, as if he was looking at a rare treasure in the world, his eyes revealing deep thought and greed.

"Good bet." His voice was low and hoarse, and seemed to carry some kind of bewitching magic.

The cigar smoke swirled between his lips and teeth. He gently exhaled a smoke ring, slowly raised his head and looked at Siming.

"But, young man, you should know that the card game here is not as simple as just comparing the size."

Siming casually fiddled with the chips between his fingers. The silver metal pieces flipped flexibly in his hands, making slight clash sounds.

A faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and he seemed to care nothing about Old Horn's hint.

"Everyone has the heart of a gambler," he said casually, with a hint of frivolous calmness in his tone, "I'm not picky about the rules of gambling."

Old Horn's eyes flickered slightly, and the curve of his mouth with the cigar in it deepened a little.

"What courage." He smiled and tapped his fingers lightly on the table. The sound echoed with a certain rhythm in the dull air.

"Well, tonight we're going to play Texas Hold'em, two-player poker."

As soon as the words fell, the atmosphere in the whole room seemed to become quiet in an instant, and even the smell of cigars in the air seemed to become stronger.

Siming smiled slightly, slowly leaned back in his chair, placed his slender fingers on the edge of the card table, tapping lightly, as if listening to some invisible melody.

"Then I would rather obey your orders than be respectful."

Old Horn narrowed his eyes, a meaningful smile on his lips, and pushed the shuffled cards towards Siming.

"Don't lose it all too quickly, young man."

Siming reached out to take the card, gently turned over a corner with his slender fingertips, his black pupils reflected the color of the card, and he chuckled softly, as if he saw some long-awaited pleasure.

The atmosphere in the room grew increasingly tense. The gambling game was about to begin, and there was a faint undercurrent of unease in the air.

The only sound in the room seemed to be the faint crackling of burning cigars.

Mrs. Mei was still sitting leisurely on Siming's lap, as if she had no interest in this gambling game. Her slender fingers slid carelessly across Siming's chest.
There was a faint warmth on the fingertips and a playful curve at the corners of the lips.

"Oh? Not bad." She murmured softly, her voice gentle, as if she was evaluating a piece of jade in her hand, rather than a gamble that might decide life or death.

Siming lightly flicked the cards in his hand, glanced indifferently across the table, and raised a meaningful smile at the corner of his mouth, as if he had already seen through the direction of all the games.

Calvino stood aside, observing all this quietly. His palm was quietly placed on the rifle at his waist, with his fingertips applying slight pressure, ready to deal with any emergency at any time.

He knew very well that this gamble was not just about money and Nightmare Gold - it was about life.

Alison stood by the table, arms folded across her chest, and whispered, "Si Ming, don't underestimate the enemy."

"Underestimate the enemy?" Siming raised his eyebrows and smiled, as if he found the word a little funny. "I'm just looking forward to this game."

Old Horn held a cigar in his mouth, his eyes narrowed slightly, and the smoke slowly rose in front of him. He smelled the smell of danger.

"Hehe... Then, let the game begin."

The light and shadow on the table swayed slightly, and the gamble of fate officially began.

This is not just a game, but also a test and competition.

The air seemed to grow heavier, and even the shadows around seemed to solidify.

In this round, who is the banker and who is the prey?

Not yet known.

(End of this chapter)