2025-01-15 17:08:28Without wasting another moment, Peter slipped out of the auditorium and made his way to Room E52. His footsteps echoed in the quiet hallways, his heart pounding harder with every step. The faint hum of slot machines and the occasional clinking of chips drifted faintly from somewhere in the building, but it was all background noise compared to the storm raging in his mind.
Stay calm. Focus. One round at a time. He reached the room and pushed open the door. At the center was a sleek blackjack table, its felt surface glowing under the overhead lights. Two chairs sat on either side of the table, and behind it stood a dealer in a crisp uniform. She radiated an air of professionalism, her expression unreadable. One of the chairs was already occupied. The man sitting there wore a loud Hawaiian shirt splashed with neon flowers, clashing spectacularly with the solemn atmosphere of the room. He lounged casually, his grin wide and carefree as if he were on vacation. “Hey, pal!” the man called out as Peter stepped inside. “Ready to dance with Lady Luck?” He gestured flamboyantly to the empty chair across from him. “Take a seat! Let’s have some fun!” Peter paused, studying him. Was this guy for real? The man chuckled, slapping the table. “What, you don’t believe in luck? Oh, buddy, she’s always watching. And tonight, she’s smiling on me!” Peter gave a polite nod, ignoring the man’s theatrics as he handed his card to the dealer. “All of it,” Peter said flatly. Moments later, the dealer pushed a stack of chips toward him—20 chips, each worth $500. Across the table, the man eyed Peter’s stack with mock reverence. “Ooh, big spender! I like it.” He tapped his chest dramatically. “Name’s Zack, by the way. But everyone calls me Lucky Zack.” “Peter,” he replied curtly, sliding into his seat. What Peter didn’t know was that Zack Lynne was infamous in the gambling world. Despite not being a professional, gambler, Zack’s reputation echoed far and wide, even among top-tier gamblers. Zack’s games were riddled with tales of impossible wins and miraculous comebacks, but seasoned gamblers knew the truth: his skill bordered on terrifying. He hadn’t pursued professional gambling only because he refused to adhere to the rules of traditional gambling institutions. To many, he was a myth. To others, he was a legend. And now, Peter was sitting across from him. The dealer spoke, her voice calm and even. “First to lose all their chips is eliminated.” Zack leaned back in his chair, beaming. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll make it quick!” Peter remained silent, his jaw tightening. The blue semi-transparent screen appeared in Peter’s vision. ….. [BET DETECTED: QUEST ACTIVATED – BLACKJACK DUEL] Objective: Win the game. Reward: +5 EXP, New Skill Unlocked. Penalty: -3 EXP. SKILLS AVAILABLE: 1. Probability Vision 2. Pattern Recognition Detector (Think “ACTIVATE” to enable skills.) ….. Peter’s heart skipped a beat as he sat down. Time to see what this thing can do. The first hand was dealt. Taking a deep breath, Peter focused on the System Panel hovering in the corner of his vision. … [ACTIVATE: Probability Vision.] ….. The world around Peter sharpened. Though in low percentage figures, numbers and probabilities overlaid the blackjack table. He could see the likelihood of each card being dealt, the remaining high cards in the deck, and even the dealer’s potential hand—all displayed in glowing percentages that shifted in real time. Peter’s cards landed softly on the felt—a nine and a king. Nineteen. Solid. “I stand,” Peter said, his voice steady. Zack, meanwhile, glanced at his cards with exaggerated flair and covered his eyes with one hand. “Alright, Lady Luck, do your thing! Hit me!” The dealer slid him a card. “Ha! A three!” Zack shouted, grinning ear to ear. “What did I tell you? Luck’s on my side!” He hit again. Another three. “Boom! I’m unstoppable!” Zack exclaimed. Then the next card came—a king. “Twenty-one,” the dealer announced. Zack leaned forward, scooping Peter’s chips with exaggerated glee. “Oh, buddy, I can feel it. Tonight’s my night!” Peter narrowed his eyes. Something about Zack felt… off. The games continued, and Zack’s laughter filled the room with each win. His every move was accompanied by dramatic fist pumps, jokes about his “lucky shirt,” and the occasional whistle. But Peter wasn’t laughing, even with his system advantage, Zack kept winning. Zack’s movements, his decisions—they weren’t as random as his personality suggested. His bets became more aggressive when high cards were likely to appear and more cautious when they weren’t. Something was off. By the fourth game, Peter was down half his chips. He clenched his fists, his frustration building. Peter activated his System Panel, pulling up his skill list. Peter activated Pattern Recognition Detector. …. [Pattern Recognition Detector: Scanning opponent’s gameplay… Searching for patterns…] ….. Peter narrowed his eyes, watching his opponent more closely. Every move Zack made was methodical. He was tracking the ratio of high-value cards left in the deck—aces, tens, jacks, queens, and kings—adjusting his bets accordingly. When the deck was rich in high cards, Zack bet aggressively. When it wasn’t, he played conservatively. That’s when he realized what was happening. Suddenly, Peter’s System Panel buzzed faintly, confirming his suspicion: [DETECTION: CARD COUNTING] Peter’s breath hitched. Zack wasn’t relying on luck. He was counting cards.
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The Gambling System Chapter 12: Card Counting
Zack wasn’t relying on luck at all. His loud personality, his flashy shirt, and all the jokes—every bit of it was a carefully crafted distraction. Beneath the surface, Zack’s mind was a well-oiled machine, calculating every move, tracking every card, and silently stacking the odds in his favor.Card counting.Peter’s jaw tightened as he realized what was happening. Card counting wasn’t illegal, but it was heavily frowned upon, and for good reason—it gave players a significant advantage over the house or their opponents.For those unfamiliar, card counting was the art of keeping track of the cards that had been played to predict the ones that remained in the deck. It wasn’t about memorizing every single card—that was impossible. Instead, players assigned values to the cards and used basic math to maintain a running count in their heads.For example:Cards 2 through 6 were “low cards” and assigned a value of +1.Cards 7 through 9 were “neutral” and given a value of 0.Cards 10, f
The Gambling System Chapter 13: Jonathan Meyers
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CHAPTER 93– THE SECOND ROUND: PETER'S GAMBIT
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CHAPTER 92 – THE SECOND ROUND BEGINS
The dealer methodically shuffled the cards, the clean snap of the deck cutting through the thick, charged air of the auditorium. With careful precision, she dealt five cards to each player, her movements smooth, mechanical, and utterly without emotion.Another round.Another battle.Peter kept his gaze trained on Naomi, not missing even the slightest twitch of her face, the faintest flicker of her fingertips.“Playing with unfamiliar rules is quite the challenge,” Naomi said lightly, her tone almost playful.Peter narrowed his eyes.Don’t let her fool you, he thought grimly. She’s not nervous. She’s enjoying this.And now… now Peter understood her.Unlike standard poker, Choice Poker wasn't about bluffing your way to a fold.In this game, the real power came from winning the right to choose: stronger or weaker.Because of that, a rational player should only raise by the minimum—just enough to steal the choice without risking too many chips.Anything more was reckless. Stupid, even.Bi
CHAPTER 91 — The First Hand of Choice Poker
The silence in the theatre-like hall was pierced by the sound of ceramic clinking against polished wood.The dealer—a poised woman with a professional grace and a face carved from calm—raised a single custom poker chip into the air. The chip gleamed under the lights, etched with the gold-trimmed insignia of Monte Carlo Gambling University. Its edges shimmered in hues of midnight blue and crimson velvet.“One chip will be worth ten million euros,” she declared, her voice smooth and clear, amplified just enough to be heard throughout the auditorium. “Now then…, how many would you like to start with?”Naomi didn’t hesitate. She smiled sweetly, folding her hands atop the table like a noble lady in court.“I currently have 310 million euros,” she said in a polite, almost too-innocent voice. “So, I’ll take 31 chips, please.”The dealer nodded, motioning to her assistants. A sleek black tray was brought forward, stacked neatly with thirty-one chips, each one glinting like treasure.Then the
Chapter 90 – The Odds
“The odds are against Peter? How so?” Grant asked, narrowing his eyes at Logan, trying to hide the worry creeping up his spine.Logan leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms, his voice calm but serious. “In ordinary poker, the player with more money has the upper hand. That's just a fact. Whoever controls the chips controls the pace of the game. If you have the larger stack, you can keep raising—over and over—until your opponent either folds or bleeds out.”Grant frowned. “Right, but that’s just normal poker. Isn’t this game a little different? You don’t lose automatically just because you have less money, right? You still get to play. You just don’t get to choose between stronger or weaker. That’s it.”“That’s it?” Logan repeated, chuckling darkly. “That one thing—that’s the whole game, Grant.”Grant blinked.Logan leaned forward now, speaking low but sharp, like he was trying to cut through the tension with every word. “The right to choose between stronger or weaker? That’s every
Chapter 89: The Rules of the Game
The stage lights dimmed as Peter and Naomi were ushered to their seats at the center of the circular platform. Two chairs faced each other beneath a low-hanging spotlight. Between them was a sleek, velvet-covered poker table. A hush fell over the crowd as the audience filled in around them, seated in rising tiers of deep crimson seats. It reminded Peter of a gladiator pit—only tonight, the weapons weren’t swords or spears. They were cards. And cash. Peter glanced out at the crowd. It was bigger than he expected—rows and rows of students, professors, spectators, and even masked officials from the gambling committee. Most of the faces were unfamiliar, but all wore the same expression: eager anticipation. Why the hell are they all here? Before Peter could gather his thoughts, a chime echoed across the hall. 9:00 p.m. Right on cue, the dealer walked onto the stage. She was a woman in her late thirties, with shoulder-length silver hair tied neatly in a braid that swung gently wi
