2025-01-15 16:50:15In a world where gambling rules, only those brave enough to risk everything can make it to the top.
Monte Carlo Gambling University—a prestigious institution where the ambitious come to master the art of betting. Among all gambling schools, it is the most competitive, with an acceptance rate of less than one in three hundred. For anyone dreaming of becoming a professional gambler, graduating from Monte Carlo G.U. is considered the ultimate achievement. Peter Donovan now stood among over a thousand applicants in the university’s massive conference hall, every seat filled with eager, determined, or outright desperate individuals. Some were young like him, others older and more experienced, but all of them had the same goal: to pass the entrance exam and claim one of the coveted spots at Monte Carlo G.U. Peter’s hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the smart watch strapped to his wrist. According to Noir, it was only thanks to her rare connections within the university that Peter had even gotten this chance. She’d also made him a bet: if he passed the exam, she would Fund his mother’s medical bills. This was his one and only shot. He wasn’t just fighting for a place at the school. He was fighting to save his mother and to rewrite his life. Suddenly, the murmurs around the room fell silent as a man stepped onto the stage, his presence commanding attention. He wore a sharp suit and carried himself with the confidence of someone who owned the room. “Welcome, aspiring gambits,” the man said, his voice booming. “Today is the day your fates will be decided. Many are called, but only a few will make it into Monte Carlo Gambling University.” The air seemed to thicken with tension. “The entrance exam will consist of three rounds,” he continued. “First, a luck-based gamble. Second, a luck-and-skill-based gamble. And third, a purely skill-based gamble.” Peter swallowed hard. “For the first round,” the man announced with a sly grin, “we’ll be playing a simple game of bingo.” A massive screen behind him lit up, revealing a grid of numbers ranging from 1 to 1057—the total number of applicants in the hall. “The bet is simple,” the man explained. “Out of these 1057 numbers, 200 are green, and the rest are red. Your task is to select one of the green numbers using the smart watches provided to you. Those who select green numbers move on to the next round. Those who select red are immediately disqualified.” The crowd tensed. “It’s fastest fingers, people,” the host added with a smirk. “Your time starts… NOW!” The room erupted into chaos as everyone bent over their smart watches, frantically selecting numbers. Some began scratching their heads, trying to calculate probabilities. Others picked at random, hoping luck would favor them. And then there were those who hesitated, paralyzed by the sheer pressure of the moment. Peter was one of them. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the screen. 200 green numbers out of 1057… less than a 20% chance. What kind of gamble is this? His breath quickened. His fingers hovered over the watch, but he couldn’t bring himself to press anything. Suddenly, the semi-transparent screen appeared before his eyes. ….. [BET DETECTED: QUEST ACTIVATED – BINGO ROUND] Objective: Select a green number. Reward: +5 EXP, Unlock new skill. Penalty: -3 EXP. …….. SKILL ACTIVATED: PROBABILITY VISION – Calculating each number’s probability of being green… ….. Peter blinked as percentages began to overlay the numbers on the watch screen. …… (42%, 40%, 37%, 35%, 32%, 30%, 27%, 25%, 20%, 17%, 15%, 10%, 7%, 5%) …… His jaw dropped. No way… this system really is a cheat code, he thought, his heart racing. The highest probability he could see was 42%. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was better than blind guessing. He felt a rush of hope. Peter selected #24—it was the day of his birth and felt like a safe choice. But his watch buzzed with an error message: (Already selected. Pick another number.) “Crap” he should have known Now his options narrowed. The remaining available numbers flashed on his watch screen: 1003, 57, 600, 980, 567, and 703. Peter grimaced. None of these were in the 42% or 40% range. The best he had left was 37%— and the only number left that was #980. It wasn’t ideal, the odds were drastically low, but it was better than the others ..….. it was better than nothing. In a flash, he selected #980. The room fell silent as a loud beep signaled the end of the selection phase. “Time’s up!” the host declared, his grin widening. “All numbers have been chosen. Now, let’s see the results.” The massive screen flickered, and the tension in the room became unbearable. The host gestured grandly toward the board. “Let the unveiling begin!” The first number appeared. #12: GREEN. Cheers erupted from one corner of the hall as someone leapt out of their seat in triumph. The next number flashed. #742: RED. A groan followed, and someone slumped in their chair, head in their hands. The numbers began appearing faster now. #430: GREEN. #27: RED. #88: RED. #534: GREEN. The atmosphere grew electric. Some contestants clutched their watches, others stared at the screen with wide, unblinking eyes. Peter was frozen in place. His mouth was dry, his palms clammy, and his heart thundered in his chest. Each number felt like a hammer strike. The world around him blurred—faces, voices, everything—until only the screen remained. The results crept closer to his number. #654: RED. Peter’s stomach twisted. Then, his number flashed on the screen. #980: The host paused theatrically, his grin turning into a cruel smirk. “And for number nine-eight-zero…” The silence was deafening. Peter’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his chair. His chest felt like it might burst. Finally, the screen lit up. #980: GREEN.
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The Gambling System Chapter 10: Gone Green
For a moment, Peter couldn’t even process what had just happened. The world around him erupted in cheers, gasps, and groans, but the sounds felt distant, muffled like he was underwater. The reality slowly sank in:He had made It.His number—his number—had gone green.Peter slumped back into his chair, his breath escaping him in a rush he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief crashed over him like a tidal wave, leaving him lightheaded and shaky. His entire body felt like it had been strung tight, and now the tension was releasing all at once.…..[SYSTEM REPORT: QUEST COMPLETED]REWARD: 5exp acquired, new skill unlocked.SKILL UNLOCKED: Pattern Recognition Detector level 1 Explanation: Spot patterns or predict trends in an opponent’s gameplay …..“Congratulations to the lucky 200,” the host’s voice boomed, pulling Peter back to reality. “You’ve made it past the first round! For the rest of you…” He gestured toward the exit, a sly grin on his face. “…better luck next time.
The Gambling System Chapter 11: Zack Lynne
Without 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 call
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
[SYSTEM REPORT: QUEST COMPLETED] REWARD: 5 EXP acquired. New skill unlocked. SKILL UNLOCKED: Tactical Vision (Level 1) Explanation: Spots the best possible move within a few seconds. --- Peter stared at the notification on his smartwatch, his mind racing. Tactical Vision? What kind of skill was that? The name sounded useful, but in gambling? Would it really help? He had no time to figure it out. The moment he stepped out of Room E52, searching for his next match, a loud voice called out. "I’ll be damned—you actually made it!" Peter turned toward the sound, spotting Ace walking toward him with a smirk stretched across his face. "Oh hey, Ace. How’d your game go?" Peter asked, shaking off his lingering tension. "A joke. My opponent was some unlucky chump with no skill. It was over in minutes. But you? You went up against Zack Lynne and won. Never saw that coming." Peter frowned. Zack Lynne? "Wait—you know him?" Ace scoffed. "The infamous card counter? Of course, I do. That
The Gambling System Chapter 14: The First Round
Peter hesitated outside Room E52, his hand lingering on the doorknob. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, an insistent drumbeat of doubt.This is it.He exhaled.No turning back now.He had to try.With a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.The air inside was thick with sterile silence, the kind that suffocated sound. A single, dim overhead light illuminated the sleek black-and-white chessboard at the center of the room. A mahogany table stood in sharp contrast to the gleaming, polished pieces set neatly on either side.The arbiter, a stiff-looking man in a pressed suit, stood at attention near the board, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes flicked toward Peter but revealed no emotion.And then—Jonathan.Even after all these years, he hadn’t changed much.He sat with his back straight, arms folded, exuding an aura of quiet superiority. His thick-rimmed glasses still perched on his nose, reflecting the overhead light in a way that hid his eyes. A
The Gambling System Chapter 15: Round 2
[SYSTEM REPORT: GAMBLE LOST] PENALITY: -3exp deducted EXP LEFT: 9xp Peter couldn't help but feel like the system was mocking him. But then again, his loss wasn’t entirely a waste—or at least that’s what he told himself. He had studied Jonathan’s movements, absorbed his playstyle, and seen, even in crushing defeat, the patterns hidden beneath the surface. All he had to do now was win the second round and then the third. "How hard can it be?" he muttered under his breath, as if he had already forgotten the sheer brutality of the previous match, as if he had amnesia and had somehow erased the memory of being completely annihilated. But sinking into despair wouldn’t help either. They had a short recess of three minutes, but neither of them moved from their seats. There was no tension release, no moment of casual relaxation. Their eyes remained locked onto the chessboard, dissecting, creating, and recreating probabilities, running through moves in their heads like a silen
The Gambling System Chapter 16: Round 3
Peter sprang to his feet the moment the second round ended, his body drenched in sweat, his breath ragged. His fingers trembled as he reached for the glass of water offered to him, gulping it down in desperate, greedy swallows. His forehead was slick, his temples pulsing with a dull ache, and for the first time in his life, he realized that chess—at this level—wasn’t just a game. It was a battle. A war waged not just on the board but in the mind, in the body, in the very core of his being. Every move was a strike, every countermove a dodge, every blunder a wound. He had played his soul out.[SYSTEM REPORT: QUEST COMPLETED]REWARD: 5 EXP acquired. New skill unlocked.SKILL UNLOCKED: SECOND CHANCEExplanation: Gives you a second chance.Note: It costs 3 EXP.Peter frowned as he read the notification. He didn’t have time to process it. His hands were still shaking from the last game, his heart pounding against his ribs. He turned his gaze back to the board, back to Jonathan, an
The Gambling System Chapter 17: A Second Chance?
A second chance? What the hell did that even mean? A redo? A way to erase mistakes?Peter hadn’t given it much thought earlier, but now, now he was just plain confused. How could he have a second chance? Wouldn’t that be breaking the very laws of reality?His mind raced, trying to process the impossible, but before he could make sense of it, he noticed something—a countdown.7.A cold chill ran down his spine.6.Was it even possible to replay a game he had already lost?5.Would it actually work?4.Would the system somehow force the arbiter to reset the match? Rewrite the past? That was ridiculous.3.And if this was real, wouldn't it be cheating on a cosmic level?2.But what was he going to do? Pass on the chance to save his mother just because he was afraid of bending the rules?1.Fuck it.(Activate: Second Chance.)The moment Peter activated Second Chance, time collapsed inward.The world lurched backward, not smoothly, but in a violent, gut-wrenching spin. T
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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 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
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
