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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
The Gambling System Chapter 56: Half time
The stadium hummed with an untamed energy, refusing to settle even as the players retreated into the tunnels. Fifty-five thousand voices buzzed, roared, and debated, creating a chaotic symphony of emotion.Manchester Titans’ fans were in full voice, their chants a rolling wave of confidence. Their team had clawed back from an early deficit, equalized with ice-cold precision, and now held the ultimate advantage—an extra man on the pitch. They could taste victory, and their energy infected the air, growing stronger with every passing second.On the opposite side, Madrid Imperials’ supporters were unnerved, restless. Their once-mighty chants had lost their rhythm, replaced by anxious murmurs. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Madrid, one of Europe’s most dominant forces, was staring at a brutal second half, outnumbered and under siege.The stadium’s giant screens replayed the first-half’s defining moments—Santi’s opener, Carlisle’s penalty, and the game-changing red card. The Titans' su
The Gambling System Chapter 57: Second Half
The second half was underway, and the air inside the stadium crackled with expectation.Down on the pitch, the ten-man Madrid Imperials braced for the inevitable onslaught. The Manchester Titans, already a powerhouse, now had the numerical advantage and the deadliest weapon in their arsenal—their star striker, freshly introduced from the bench. He was a game-changer, the kind of player who needed only a sliver of space, a fraction of a second, to punish a defense. And Madrid, battered and shorthanded, had to somehow hold the line.In the Viewing Centre, Peter sat frozen, every muscle in his body coiled with tension. The luxury around him—crystal glasses, velvet seats—was a distant blur. His world had been reduced to a single screen, to the flashing numbers that dictated his fortune. Every pass, every counterattack, every desperate clearance was a shift in probability, an invisible tug on the strings of fate.✅ Madrid to Win or Draw → Still in play.✅ Over 2.5 Goals → Already secur
The Gambling System Chapter 58 – The Third Round Begins
The room was silent.A silence so thick, so absolute, it felt like the world itself was holding its breath.Peter’s pulse pounded in his ears, the weight of his last win still pressing against his ribs. 158.6 million euros. The largest victory of his career. A sum that would make even the most seasoned gamblers lose their composure.But Logan had won more.1.4 million more.It was a meaningless margin. A fraction of a fraction.And yet it meant everything.Logan sat across from him, perfectly composed. He wasn’t gloating. He wasn’t celebrating. He simply swirled the ice in his whiskey glass, watching Peter with that quiet, unreadable smirk. Not mocking. Not condescending. Just waiting.Waiting for Peter to break.A slow breath. A sharp exhale.Then, Peter leaned forward and slammed his palm onto the table.🔥 "Again." 🔥The words cut through the silence like a blade.Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening ever so slightly. Amusement flickered in his eyes, but only f
The Gambling System Chapter 59: Racecourse
The Royal Derby Racecourse pulsed with an almost electric energy, the kind that surged through the veins of gamblers, enthusiasts, and dreamers alike. The grandstands overflowed, a living, breathing sea of bodies, each person adding their own voice to the chaotic symphony of cheers, laughter, and anxious whispers.Peter stood near the VIP betting lounge, the hum of high-stakes wagers and whispered strategies buzzing around him like static in the air. The scent of freshly cut turf mingled with the sharp bite of expensive cigars and the effervescence of champagne, a stark contrast to the raw tension tightening in his chest.His fingers curled around a glass of whiskey—untouched. Not out of hesitation, but because his mind was too consumed with the towering digital display above the racetrack, where odds flickered and shifted like the heartbeat of the betting world. Millions were on the line tonight.Race Conditions🔹 Track: Slightly damp, but good footing. The morning drizzle had s
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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 it was the aftermath of the Second Chance ability or something deeper—something breaking inside him.It felt like his mind was splitting, his reality fracturing like a shattered mirror.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 that rewrote time itself. Both realities bled together, each one refusing to be forgotten.He shut his eyes, trying to focus, trying to block out the spiraling thoughts.It wasn’t real.
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
Chapter 61: The Gentleman’s Game
The fourth round began.Victory still clung to Peter like a second skin, its warmth settling deep into his bones, its thrill a heady rush of adrenaline coursing through his every thought. He had won. Finally. A foothold in this war. A breath of control in the chaos.The score stood at 2-1—Logan still in the lead. But that didn’t matter. Not anymore.Because Peter had something far more valuable than a single win.A second chance. A guarantee.Second Chance had turned the tide in his favor, letting him rewrite his mistakes, glimpse beyond the present, bend fate to his will. But the side effects…A wailing storm inside his skull.A relentless pull, like a rubber band stretched too thin, on the verge of snapping.A constant gnawing at the edges of his mind, whispering of consequences yet to come.Peter gritted his teeth and shoved it all aside. Pain was irrelevant. Doubt was irrelevant. Only the game mattered.The wheel spun.Click-click-click.The symbols blurred—football, b
