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The Gambling System Chapter 20: Silence
Silence.The room fell into a pin-drop silenceA deafening, choking silence.The kind of silence often found in a graveyard.The words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable.Peter felt his pulse slam against his ribs.His mind screamed at him to move, to react, to do something—But his body refused to obey."What the actual hell—"The air thickened, pressing in on him like a vice. For a moment, Peter almost thought he had misheard. But the boy’s expression hadn’t changed.He meant every word.Because this guy wasn’t joking.There wasn’t a trace of bluff in his face.No arrogance. No bravado.Just cold, lethal certainty.It was an expression Peter had never seen before, not even in his most intense gambling matches. It wasn’t the look of someone who wanted to win. It was the look of someone who had to.Like a knight who had sworn an oath.Peter’s mouth was dry.He forced himself to breathe, keeping his voice as steady as he could."Sorry," he said carefully, "but I think you have the w
The Gambling System Chapter 21: Orientation
Peter washed his face one last time before making his way to the hall. His head still throbbed, the weight of everything—the game, the system, the cheat—pressing down on him. The air in the hall was different now. Where once the room had been packed with nervous, hopeful applicants, now only a select few remained. The remaining students were scattered across the vast space, far fewer than before. Maybe a 50? Maybe less. Peter didn’t bother counting. He slipped into his seat, the same one from before, a few rows toward the back. His body moved on autopilot as he pulled out the chair’s small, foldable slate table and rested his head against it. The ache behind his eyes was dull but constant. It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was guilt. But unfortunately, his moment of rest didn’t last long. “Oh my, my— you actually did it. You beat a grandmaster at chess.” Peter sighed before even looking up. Ace. Of course. And this time, Chloe was with him. Peter sat up, rubbi
The Gambling System Chapter 22: A Black Limousine
After some extra formalities, the orientation came to an end. Peter stood outside of the university main gate, trying really hard to remember what way he took coming here. He pulled out his phone to make use of the cyber map.Suddenly, a black limousine glided to a smooth stop before Peter, its presence alone exuding power, mystery, and extravagance. The vehicle was the definition of wealth—polished obsidian paint that reflected the neon glow of the city, tinted windows dark enough to swallow any prying eyes, and silver-plated door handles that shimmered like hidden treasure. The car’s sleek body stretched longer than most sports cars, its wheel rims a custom design, glinting like casino chips under the dim streetlights. It wasn’t just a limo—it was a moving fortress, the kind only the most elite gamblers, politicians, or crime bosses dared to use.Peter’s stomach twisted as the passenger-side window rolled down just a fraction—only a few inches, just enough to let a sliver of d
The Gambling System Chapter 23: Birthright
Peter stepped through the massive glass doors of Celestia Royale Medical Center, and the world instantly changed.The air inside was crisp, clean, and carried a faint scent of jasmine and sterilized linen. The ceiling stretched impossibly high, adorned with intricate chandeliers that cast golden light across the vast marble floor. The walls were a pristine white, accented with sleek gold trimmings that screamed wealth and exclusivity.A grand reception desk sat at the center of the lobby, crafted from polished onyx and manned by staff dressed in immaculate white uniforms, their expressions calm and professional. Behind them, a massive digital board displayed real-time medical updates, schedules, and donation acknowledgments from some of the wealthiest benefactors in the world.To the left, an open lounge area extended into a five-star café, where patients and visitors alike sipped on imported teas and coffee worth more than Peter’s rent. A pianist played a soft, melancholic tune fr
The Gambling System Chapter 24: Three Days
It had been three days since the entrance exam.Three days since his mother was fully admitted to the hospital.Three days since he rejected gambling and turned his back on Monte Carlo Gambling University.Three days since he last saw Noir.Now, Peter was back in a suit, riding his bike through the city streets with an envelope tucked under his arm. Inside was his CV, his last hope of securing a job. He was heading to the eleventh pizza store he had applied to in the past three days.It seemed his former boss had made it his personal mission to ruin his reputation, ensuring no one in the food service industry would hire him. Peter had lost count of how many times he had walked into a shop only to be met with apologetic smiles and polite rejections.But giving up wasn’t an option.Even though his mother’s medical bills were covered, life didn’t stop. He still had to pay rent, buy food, and, if luck ever shone on him, save up for community college.The only problem?Peter was p
The Gambling System Chapter 25: Headache
Peter woke to a pounding headache and the metallic scent of the room.His head throbbed as if someone had taken a hammer to it, and his stomach churned with nausea. The air was thick, stale, carrying the faint scent of sweat and cigar smoke. He blinked against the dim lighting, his vision swimming before gradually settling into focus.Cold.Not just the temperature of the room, but the sensation creeping over his skin. A wrongness that made every nerve in his body snap to attention.He was seated on a metal chair in what looked like a backroom—concrete walls, a single hanging lightbulb swaying faintly overhead. His hands were free, but that didn’t bring him any comfort.Something was off.A deep voice cut through the silence.“Finally, you’re awake.”Peter’s body tensed.A man sat across from him, behind a wooden desk. He wasn’t bulky or physically imposing, but there was something about him that radiated power. A quiet, unwavering confidence. He had the air of someone who ne
The Gambling System Chapter 26: Naomi
Peter’s breath hitched. For a moment, the noise of the gambling den—the roaring crowd, the clinking of chips, the shuffling of cards—faded into nothing.Naomi. She stood before him, wearing a sleek emerald dress that hugged her figure, the low glow of the casino lights reflecting off the delicate gold chain around her neck. Her dark brown hair, once so familiar, cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves. Her makeup was subtle yet sharp, accentuating her high cheekbones and full lips—the same lips that once whispered promises to him, the same lips that had kissed him under the streetlights of their old neighbourhood. But it was her eyes that froze him in place. They weren’t the same. Once, they had been warm, filled with light, mischief, and reckless dreams. But now? Now, they were distant. Guarded. Cold. “Peter?” Her voice was soft, uncertain. For a moment, Peter could only stare, his mind caught between the past and the present. The girl he once knew—th
The Gambling System Chapter 27: Six million euros
They both agreed on a game of Baccarat, A game of prestige, chance, and gut instincts. One of the oldest and most respected gambling games in the world, played in the grandest casinos by the wealthiest elites. Yet, beneath all its grandeur, the rules were simple. Two hands were played—the Player and the Banker. The goal was straightforward: get as close to nine as possible. Numbered cards 2 through 9 carried their face value, while 10s, Jacks, Queens, and Kings were worth zero. Aces were one. If a hand’s total exceeded nine, only the last digit counted. For example, a hand with a 7 and an 8—which would normally be 15—was actually worth 5. There were no complicated strategies, no deep calculations like in blackjack or poker. It was a game of pure probability, a gamble in its truest form. And Peter? Peter had never played it before. “How much does the pizza boy even have to gamble?” Viktor sneered, lounging in his chair like a king on his throne. Peter didn’t flinch.
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Chapter 97: A Battle Beyond Money
The crowd exploded again.If Peter’s bet had been a bomb, Viktor’s was a nuclear strike.People screamed.Chairs clattered against the floor.Someone in the back actually fainted."TWO HUNDRED BILLION?!""IS THIS EVEN LEGAL?!""WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?!""THIS IS MADNESS!"It wasn’t just a gamble anymore.It was warfare on a scale none of them had ever witnessed.---And in the center of it all —amid the chaos and disbelief —Peter and Viktor locked eyes.No words.No smiles.Just two forces of nature colliding —and only one of them would walk away.The second Viktor’s voice cut through the air —"Two hundred billion." —the reaction was cataclysmic.The arena didn't just erupt — it detonated.It was as if the very walls trembled from the shockwave of noise.A thousand voices screamed at once, the sound bouncing off the ceilings and hammering into the floor.Some people laughed hysterically, others yelled in disbelief, and still more sat frozen, mouths gaping like broken machines."TWO
Chapter 96: The Battle Escalates
For a single breathless moment, the entire arena froze.Then, dramatically — like an emperor descending into the gladiator pit — Viktor stood from his luxurious VIP seat and began making his way toward the stage.His every step echoed in the vast silence.A slow, deliberate, predatory gait — like a wolf circling wounded prey.The crowd instinctively parted for him, the sea making way for the storm.The overhead lights caught his sharp suit — dark as night — and made it gleam like polished obsidian.Every movement he made was smooth, precise, dripping with arrogance.He didn’t strut.He didn’t posture.He simply existed with an undeniable dominance.As he ascended the steps onto the stage, his smirk widened — the kind of grin you’d see on a man who already knew the ending of the story... and knew it ended in your ruin.---Peter’s fists clenched by his side.His mind scrambled to process what the hell was happening."What the hell is going on?!" he blurted, voice cracking with confusio
Chapter 95: Choosing Fire Over Safety
Risk made Naomi feel real. It reminded her she still existed — that she could still touch the world, and it could touch her back. But even with all the dares, the bets, the adrenaline highs, the near-death moments she laughed through… Something inside her stayed hollow. A part of her stayed cold. Like no matter how hard she ran, some piece of her was still trapped in that silent house, under a mother’s cold hand, waiting for a father who was never coming back. --- Until she met him. Until she met Peter. --- It was a cold, gray morning. The kind that makes the whole city feel dead. The sky was heavy with low, steel-colored clouds. The streets were slick with rain from the night before, the air sharp and damp. Naomi had her headphones in, lost in the beat of some reckless song — one that made her feel like she was the only real thing in the world. She didn’t see the bus. She didn’t hear the shouts. Didn’t realize the screaming wasn’t part of her music. Until — Hands.
Chapter 94: Naomi
The earliest memory Naomi could ever call happy wasn’t a birthday party or a family trip. It was standing on the edge of a rooftop. She was five years old. The air was crisp and wild against her cheeks, whipping her hair into her eyes. Her tiny sneakers teetered dangerously close to the ledge. Below her, the city stretched out in a chaotic mess of lights, honking horns, and life. She didn’t feel afraid. She felt free. For the first time in her short, confusing life — she felt truly, completely alive. --- Naomi was born in a city where gambling wasn’t just a pastime — it was a heartbeat. Lottery houses on every corner. Illegal poker games tucked into alleyways. Sports betting rings hidden behind barbershops. Risk and reward were the background noise of her childhood. Her father, Daniel, was a professional poker player. The kind of man who lived with cards always hidden up his sleeve and a crooked smile on his face. He played by instinct. By gut. He’d
CHAPTER 93– THE SECOND ROUND: PETER'S GAMBIT
Peter remained composed, outwardly calm, but inside his mind was a roaring storm of calculations and possibilities.He ran through the most plausible reasons Naomi might have for discarding two Tens—a strong starting hand in almost any version of poker.First possibility:She could simply be aiming for a deliberately weak hand. Something like:> 10-Heart, 10-Diamond, 7-Clover, 4-Diamond, 3-Spade.If she were betting on weaker hands winning, that would make sense. But not entirely.Showing your weakness openly is suicidal, Peter thought. Especially when victory depends on betting more aggressively than your opponent.Second possibility:A more dangerous one.> A-Clover, 2-Diamond, 2-Heart, 10-Heart, 10-Diamond.Maybe she originally had two pairs—Tens and Twos—and was throwing away the Tens to trick him. Or worse:> 7-Heart, 7-Spade, 7-Diamond, 10-Heart, 10-Diamond.Maybe she had a full house and was bluffing to bait him into choosing "Stronger."In that case, if Peter misread the situa
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
