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The Gambling System Chapter 48 – The First Quarter Begins
The Minnesota Frostfangs and New Orleans Hurricanes strode onto the court, met by a deafening eruption of cheers and flashing arena lights. The energy inside the stadium was thick, electric, buzzing with anticipation. This wasn’t just another game—it was a battle for playoff positioning, a clash that could define the season’s trajectory.Peter sat at the edge of his seat inside the Viewing Center, his fingers gripping the sleek leather armrests of his private booth. The 3D holographic display in front of him was so vivid, so life-like, that for a moment, he felt like he was actually courtside, breathing the same intensity as the players.Across from him, Logan Fisher sat back in his chair, completely at ease. He wasn’t leaning forward, wasn’t sweating bullets like Peter. No tension in his shoulders, no nervous glances at the screen.He was too relaxed.Too confident.Peter forced himself to ignore Logan.Because right now?None of that mattered.His entire focus was on the game.Becau
The Gambling System Chapter 49: The Second Quarter
The buzzer-beater still lingered in Peter’s mind.Brendan Irving’s deep three had tied the game at 27-27, but it had done more than just even the score—it had shifted the momentum. The Hurricanes fed off the moment, walking to their bench with their heads high, their energy contagious.Momentum was a dangerous thing.And Peter knew it better than anyone.Sitting in the Viewing Center, he let out a slow, controlled breath, his fingers drumming anxiously against the smooth leather of his chair. His bets were still alive, but this second quarter would be crucial. Across from him, Logan Fisher remained maddeningly composed, his posture relaxed, a faint smirk on his lips as he casually flicked a casino chip between his fingers.He wasn’t watching the game.He was watching Peter.Peter clenched his jaw and looked away. Logan could play mind games all he wanted—Peter had bigger things to worry about.On the massive 3D screen, the teams stepped back onto the court. The Hurricanes looked confi
The Gambling System Chapter 50: The Battle for Control
The halftime buzzer had barely faded, yet the energy inside the arena had shifted. The first half had been an all-out war—a relentless, bruising battle between the Minnesota Frostfangs and the New Orleans Hurricanes.Now, the real game began.Peter exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders to shake off the tension. His gaze flickered to his betting slip. Everything was still on track—but that didn’t mean he was safe.The Frostfangs led 58-53, and his wagers were alive:✔ Anton Eldridge outscoring Brendan Irving? Still good.✔ Karl-Tanner Towers hitting over 20.5 points? On pace.✔ Minnesota securing the win? Within reach.But betting wasn’t about celebrating early.A lead wasn’t a victory.Momentum was everything.Across from him, Logan Fisher finally leaned forward. The first time all night.Peter’s stomach twisted. Logan wasn’t relaxed anymore. And that meant something.He wasn’t the only one who saw it.Coach Derrick Long had his Hurricanes huddled tight, his voice low but intense. The
The Gambling System Chapter 51 – The Final Quarter: The Gamble of a Lifetime
The moment the third-quarter buzzer sounded, Peter exhaled sharply, his pulse hammering in his ears. He leaned back in his seat, his fingers drumming against the leather armrest, but his body refused to relax.86-82.The Hurricanes had the lead.The Frostfangs were reeling.Towers was in foul trouble. Eldridge was carrying the offense alone. The Hurricanes had seized the momentum, and if they weren’t stopped soon, Peter’s entire bet would go up in flames.Across from him, Logan Fisher remained a picture of calm, but Peter saw it—that faint gleam in his eyes, the almost imperceptible twitch of his lips.Logan knew.He could smell blood.Peter clenched his jaw. Not yet.The fourth quarter was here.And everything was about to change.Peter pulled up his bet slip, scanning it with razor-sharp focus. The fourth quarter hadn’t started yet, but he needed to know exactly where he stood.✔ Frostfangs to Win → Still possible, but they needed a comeback. Fast.✔ Over 220.5 total points → The ga
The Gambling System Chapter 52: Overtime
101-101.The arena was shaking. Chaos. Pandemonium. Madness.Karl-Tanner Towers had just saved the Frostfangs.Peter was still gripping the edge of his seat, breath coming in short, ragged bursts. His heart slammed against his ribs, his body stuck in that limbo between exhilaration and sheer terror. The noise around him felt distant, muffled, like he was underwater. The scoreboard flickered. Five more minutes.Overtime.He fumbled for his phone, barely aware of his fingers moving as he refreshed the betting app.Bet Status:✅ Overtime bet hit – 12x payout.✅ Total points over 220.5 – With overtime, it was practically guaranteed.✅ First to 50 points – Frostfangs – Already won.✅ Towers Over 20.5 points – Sitting at 22 now. Safe.✅ Eldridge More Points Than Irving – Eldridge: 29, Irving: 28. Razor-thin.✅ Frostfangs win by 1-5 points – Still possible.❓ Frostfangs to Win – The biggest gamble left.Peter exhaled sharply. He was so close.He had already locked in a massive win. The overt
The Gambling System Chapter 53: The Crushing Weight of Defeat
The blood drained from Peter’s face.The noise of the crowd became a distant hum, like a muted storm raging behind thick glass.His breath caught in his throat.80 million.Logan had won 80 million.Peter’s body went ice cold.The high? Gone.The rush? Vanished.For a fleeting moment, he had felt invincible—he had beaten the system, outmaneuvered the odds, and turned one million into 47.5 million euros.And yet, across the table, Logan Fisher had done something even greater.His live bet parlay had taken real-time control of the game. He hadn’t just predicted events—he had reacted, adjusting his bets mid-game, sculpting his parlay like a master strategist moving pieces on a chessboard.And in the end, he had doubled Peter’s winnings.A victory so overwhelming it made Peter’s greatest triumph feel like dust.Across the table, Logan finally moved.He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the felt surface. And then, with the precision of a knife slipping into flesh—He grinned."Not bad,"
The Gambling System Chapter 54 – The Second Round Begins
They return back to viewing center.Peter mind completely consumed by Logan’s stats, yet he wasn’t fazed. He knew defeating him was possible, he knew he could do this.“Let the second round begin”The wheel spun.Peter’s fingers tightened around the armrests of his chair as he watched the golden selection wheel slow to a stop. The holographic display above flickered, processing the result before displaying it in bold, glowing letters:SOCCERA hush fell over the room.Peter exhaled sharply. Soccer. A game of fluid movement, tactics, and split-second decisions. Unlike basketball, where statistical analysis could create a solid betting framework, soccer was riddled with unpredictability. A single goal could shatter everything.Across from him, Logan let out a low chuckle. "Huh. Interesting."
The Gambling System Chapter 55: First half
The stadium was electric. Fifty-five thousand fans packed the stands, their voices merging into a deafening roar as the players lined up for kickoff. This wasn’t just any match—this was the UEFA Elite Cup semifinal, where history was written, legacies were forged, and careers could be broken.For Manchester Titans, it was a chance to reclaim past glory, their first shot at a major final in over a decade. For Madrid Imperials, it was about dominance—a step closer to cementing their reign over European football.But for Peter, the stakes were even higher.His 2-million-euro bet was riding on every second of this match. A Madrid Imperials win or draw kept him in the game. Over 2.5 goals meant he needed action, fast. Rafael Santi scoring? His pulse spiked just thinking about it.And then there was the wildcard—a red card. A high-risk, high-reward gamble. If the game boiled over and someone saw red, Peter was looking at a potential 95.6-million-euro payout.His fingers curled tightly
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Chapter 70: Overtime
The moment the final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of regulation, Peter felt his body collapse inward.Not physically—though every muscle in his body was locked in unbearable agony—but mentally, emotionally, in a way that left him utterly drained, breathless, and gasping for relief.Overtime.His mind screamed in protest. He had prepared himself to endure four quarters, to suffer through every second, to etch every play into his memory until the final whistle set him free.But the game had denied him that release.The ball had rimmed out.The score remained locked.And now, he had five more minutes to endure.Five more minutes of blinding, skull-crushing pain.Five more minutes before he could activate the Second Chance System and rewind time, before he could use everything he had memorized to place the perfect bet, the ultimate parlay.Peter’s vision swam. His fingertips tingled. His ears rang.He barely heard the thunderous explosion of the crowd, the rising hysteria as thousand
Chapter 70: The Final Quarter Begins – A Battle Against Time
The buzzer screamed, echoing through the packed Pacific Coliseum like a war horn calling soldiers to their last stand. The start of the fourth quarter.And for the briefest of moments, Peter exhaled.One more quarter.That was all.Twelve more minutes.Just a short, final stretch of play stood between him and the end of this torment, the unrelenting, skull-crushing agony that had latched onto him like a parasite, sinking its claws deeper with every second. His body was rebelling against him, his nerves burning, his vision a mess of shifting colors and dark, creeping edges.But none of it mattered.Because when this game ended, it would not truly be over.He would be here again. With knowledge. With power.And this time, he wouldn’t just be a spectator.He would control everything.The Pacific Coliseum was no longer just a venue—it was a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of thousands. The energy in the air was suffocating, thick with tension, anticipation,
Chapter 69: Third Quarter: The Breaking Point
Halftime had come and gone, but the tension inside Pacific Coliseum had only intensified. The air was thick, electric with anticipation, as fans murmured and shifted in their seats, waiting for the next act of this high-stakes drama to unfold.On the scoreboard, the numbers stood frozen like a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled:Golden Blades 48 – Nightwings 48.A deadlock.But not for long.The Halftime Adjustments – A War of StrategiesBoth teams had spent the break not just recovering, but recalibrating. In the Golden Blades’ locker room, their coach had hammered in a singular message: Speed. Attack. Pressure. They would push the pace even harder, forcing the Nightwings into mistakes, into exhaustion.The Nightwings had responded with resolve. They weren’t going to let the Golden Blades dictate the game. Their plan? Tighten the defense, control the boards, and let Malcolm Raines take over.As the players emerged back onto the court, the difference in energy was visible.Chris Hollowa
Chapter 69: Second Quarter: The Pulse of the Game
The energy inside Pacific Coliseum was an uncontrollable wildfire, burning hotter with each passing moment. The first quarter had been a whirlwind—momentum shifts, highlight plays, defensive clashes that left the crowd gasping. The Los Angeles Nightwings and the San Francisco Golden Blades were locked in a battle of wills, neither team willing to surrender an inch.As the buzzer signaled the start of the second quarter, the scoreboard glowed like an omen:Golden Blades 28 – Nightwings 26.The lead was fragile, like a thread stretched too tight, ready to snap.Peter barely registered the score.He wasn’t here to celebrate a win or mourn a loss. He was here to learn. To absorb. To engrave every shift in the game into the marrow of his memory.Because when this was over—when he activated Second Chance—he wouldn’t be betting on probabilities.He would be betting on certainty.The Pain Creeps InA dull, persistent pressure pounded behind his eyes, growing heavier with every flicker of move
Chapter 68: The Roar of the Coliseum
The Pacific Coliseum pulsed like a living entity, a vast and untamed force barely contained by the steel and concrete of its structure. The air inside was thick with tension, humming with the anticipation of thousands of spectators, their voices merging into a singular, deafening roar. Banners rippled above the crowd, team colors clashing in a sea of loyalty and rivalry. The spotlights overhead swirled in rhythmic patterns, casting brief halos of light over the freshly polished court, illuminating every scuff, every line—a battlefield awaiting its warriors.The bass from the pre-game music thumped like a heartbeat, reverberating through the floor, through the walls, through Peter’s skull. A sharp pain throbbed behind his eyes, an unrelenting pulse that grew heavier with every drumbeat. His temples felt caught in a vise, his breath coming slow and deliberate as he tried to dull the ache, to push it into the background.He had to focus.Not on the outcome. Not on the competition.Only o
Chapter 65: Round 5
Pain.It was becoming a constant. A companion he never invited but could no longer shake.Peter’s head pulsed with it, a dull throb behind his temples that refused to ease, no matter how much he tried to steady his breathing. The world around him felt strangely off—too bright, too loud, too fast.Peter’s head was pounding.The ache had settled behind his eyes, a dull, unrelenting pressure that refused to fade. Every breath felt heavier, his body sluggish, his thoughts running in loops. The encounter in the restroom still clung to him, but he shoved it aside. He had to focus.The moment he and Logan stepped back into the Viewing Center, the grand display walls flickered to life. Screens stretched across the room, wrapping them in a high-definition arena of color and movement. The very air hummed with the weight of high-stakes betting.Peter barely registered it.His fingers twitched at his sides. His breathing was slow but uneven. The pain wasn’t fading—it was building. Growing sh
Chapter 64: The Restroom
Peter’s vision swam as he gripped the sink tighter, his knuckles turning white against the porcelain. The pain wasn’t fading—it was evolving. What had begun as a dull, relentless pounding was now a knife twisting behind his eyes, burrowing deeper into his skull like a parasite feeding on his thoughts. His breaths came slow and heavy, each inhale laced with nausea, each exhale trembling with the effort of control. He wasn’t sure if this was just the aftermath of Second Chance or something deeper. Something breaking inside him. It felt like his mind was splitting apart. Like his reality was fracturing. Two pasts. Two futures. Two versions of himself fighting for dominance. His body still remembered the crushing weight of defeat. But his mind clung to victory—the flawless counterplay, the rewinding of time itself, the win that shouldn’t have been possible. Both realities bled together. Neither willing to be forgotten. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, fighting against the spiraling tho
Chapter 63: The bar
The bar Logan chose was nothing like the one before. This wasn’t just luxury—it was an exhibition of wealth so obscene it bordered on arrogance. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen lightning, casting fractured light across the obsidian marble floors. The air carried the scent of aged whiskey and untouchable status.Logan led the way, his movements slow, calculated, every step a statement.Peter followed, masking the pain clawing through his body with every step. The Second Chance ability had taken its toll, an invisible knife slicing through his nerves with each passing second. But he couldn’t show it. Not to Logan. Not now.They reached the private lounge, a secluded alcove bathed in dim gold lighting, where silence held more weight than words. Logan gestured toward the pristine leather seats, his expression unreadable.Peter sat, forcing himself to exhale slowly.The pain was getting worse.It felt like his bones were vibrating with a frequency not meant for the human body, l
Chapter 62: Scripted?
As the final wicket fell, as Australia erupted in celebration and England trudged off in defeat, Peter leaned back in his chair. He exhaled, slow and measured.Logan leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed, his smirk just shy of arrogance. The dim light of the viewing center caught the sharp angles of his face, the smooth glint of his whiskey glass as he tilted it slightly in his fingers. The ice clinked.“Are you kidding me?” Logan mused, shaking his head. “What a waste.”Peter didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled slowly, as if savoring something unseen. The weight of the race still hummed in his bones, the echoes of the crowd, the pounding of hooves, the adrenaline-fueled final stretch—it was all still there, just beneath the surface.But Logan?Logan had no idea.Peter rolled his shoulders, stretching his fingers against the polished wood of the table. His body still felt heavy, like he’d been run over, his nerves raw from the strain of what had just happened—w
