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The Gambling System 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.
The Gambling System CHAPTER 1: The day had started like any other
Seated on his throne, Peter Donovan stared down at the kingdom he had built, reflecting on the long and painful road that had brought him here. The rise of a gambler who had once sworn never to take a risk. This is the tale of how he became the Gambit King. The day started like any other. “RISK NOTHING, GAIN NOTHING.” Peter pulled his scooter to a halt in front of a massive gambling billboard, the slogan glowing brightly. He stared at it, trying to make sense of the words, but the more he thought about them, the more repulsive they seemed. “Risk nothing, gain nothing?” he muttered under his breath. “No… it should be risk nothing, lose nothing. Risk anything, and lose everything.” His name was Peter Donovan, a seventeen-year-old pizza delivery boy in Monte Carlo, Monaco. In a city where gambling was the beating heart of the economy, Peter was an anomaly—a teenager who refused to bet his luck. For him, life was simple: a steady job, a beautiful girlfriend, and a loving mothe
The Gambling System CHAPTER 2: St. Lucille Hospital
Peter sat in the waiting room of St. Lucille Hospital, his legs bouncing uncontrollably. He couldn’t sit still. Every part of him wanted to burst through the doors and see his mother, to make sure she was okay. The clock on the wall seemed to mock him, each second stretching longer than the last. Finally, a doctor pushed through the double doors, scanning the room. “Peter Donovan?” He shot to his feet so fast he nearly stumbled. “Yes!” The doctor approached, his face calm but exhausted. “I have bad news.” Peter’s stomach tightened. “What… what’s wrong?” The doctor sighed, rubbing his forehead before meeting Peter’s eyes. “Peter… I’m so sorry. Your mother has been diagnosed with stage-one primordial spinal cancer. It’s aggressive, and she needs immediate surgery.” The words slammed into Peter like a sledgehammer. His vision blurred, his pulse hammering in his ears. His chest tightened, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Cancer?” The word felt foreign in
The Gambling System Chapter 3: The riskiest risk of all
The guards dragged him out, his heart shattering with every step. His mother was dying. He was broke. And now… he had jobless. ….. Peter arrived home, drenched from the rain, his entire body numb—not from the cold, but from the crushing weight of despair. He had less than four hours to save his mother, and he had nothing. He dropped onto the worn-out couch in their cramped living room, his hands gripping his hair. His mother’s face filled his mind—her warm smile, her gentle touch, the way she made their tiny trailer feel like home. Without her, this place would be nothing more than four walls trapping him in his own misery. His breath hitched. She was his only light. And if she was gone… Peter’s hands clenched into fists. Anger rose inside him, but he had no one to direct it at—no one to blame. Until his gaze landed on the picture frame hanging on the wall. More specifically, on his father. His jaw tightened. His fists trembled.“He promised he’d be here,” Peter
The Gambling System Chapter 4: Black
Her smirk widened into a grin. “All of it? Big move, kid.”She frowned slightly as she appraised and checked through each chip to make sure they were valid and legit, before stacking the 25 chips, each worth a thousand euros. For a moment, she hesitated, then said quietly, “Good luck. You’ll need it.”She slid the chips across the counter. Peter stared at them like they were grenades waiting to go off. His hands shook as he picked them up.As he turned to face the tables, the weight of what he was about to do hit him. This wasn’t just about money. It was about his mother’s life.And now, there was no turning back.Peter stepped onto the gambling floor, gripping his chips like they might vanish if he let go. The noise hit him like a wave—laughter, shouting, the clinking of glasses and chips, the mechanical whir of slot machines. It felt overwhelming.And the stares—he could feel them. They weren’t just glancing this time. People were whispering, pointing.“Is that what I think i
The Gambling System Chapter 5: Embrace the darkness
The croupier’s hand swept across the table, collecting Peter’s chips in one smooth motion. Peter froze, his entire body numb. He stared at the wheel, as though willing it to spin again, but it was final. The little white ball rested in a red slot, mocking him. Around him, murmurs rippled through the crowd. A few spectators shook their heads and drifted back to their own games, while others lingered, staring at him with pity or curiosity, as if watching a tragedy unfold. Peter’s knees buckled. He gripped the edge of the table to keep from collapsing, his breath ragged. The number 20,625 pounded in his head like a hammer, louder than the noise of the casino. His mother’s face flashed before him—her frail body hooked up to machines, waiting for him to save her. He imagined walking into that hospital empty-handed, her hopeful expression fading into despair. He’d failed. “Rough break,” Falcone said smoothly, his voice slicing through the fog of Peter’s mind like a blade.
The Gambling System Chapter 6: QUEST ACTIVATED: ROULETTE REVENGE
Peter had passed out. Hours later, his eyes flickered open. He wasn’t healed. He wasn’t saved. But he was alive. And for the first time in his short, miserable life, he felt the faintest glimmer of something foreign.Hope.The rain poured steadily, washing blood and grime from his face. His body screamed in protest as he raised himself to a seated position, his limbs heavy as lead. The pain was unbearable, but the fact that he’d survived—that he could move at all—left him more stunned than anything.It had to be a dream, Peter thought. But as he clutched his chest, gasping for breath, the semi-transparent screen appeared in front of him again, its glow cutting through the rain.……..[PLAYER PROFILE]LEVEL: 1EXP: 0/100Skill: NoneInventory: See more...…….Peter blinked, his eyes widening. “Oh, it definitely wasn’t a dream,” he muttered.……[SYSTEM REPORT]Default system skill attained: Bank Roll Level 1 – 1 million euros per day.Explanation: The player is granted 1 m
The Gambling System CHAPTER 7: Black Wins
For a heartbeat, no one moved. No one breathed.Then the room exploded into chaos. Cheers erupted from the crowd, echoing off the walls. Gasps and shouts of disbelief filled the air. Some were thrilled for Peter, while others were too stunned to speak.The dealer’s voice cut through the commotion. “Black wins.”Peter staggered back, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. He had won. The ball had landed on black. Relief surged through his chest like a tidal wave. His heart, which had felt like it might burst, now pounded with triumph.Falcone, however, didn’t share in the celebration. His face twisted in disbelief, his smirk replaced by a glare so cold it could freeze the room. He stared at the wheel, then at Peter, his lips curling into a snarl. But Peter stood firm, his battered face lit with something Falcone hadn’t expected—triumph.The dealer pushed the mountain of chips toward Peter. A million euros, doubled.Peter stepped forward, his hand steady now. “The necklace. And m
Latest Chapter
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
Chapter 88: Curtain Call
The hall was dimly lit, its architecture built to impress. Red velvet seats climbed in tiers like a coliseum for spectators of fate. Massive screens hung from the ceiling, and a wide digital stage sat at the center like a glowing arena. Peter stepped inside slowly, his footsteps muffled by the soft carpet. The place had the air of a theater, but instead of applause and monologues, it promised danger, pride, and humiliation.This was where stories were rewritten or crushed.He checked the time—ten minutes to the match.Might as well grab a drink.He walked toward the refreshment counter tucked against the back wall. A strange mix of calm and restlessness stirred in his chest. His mind was heavy, but his limbs moved light, like the air itself buzzed beneath his skin.“Glad to see you’re finally up.”The voice stopped him mid-step. Familiar. Smooth. Maybe even friendly.Peter turned—and found Logan leaning casually against the wall, a small bottle of water in hand.“Logan,” Peter said, b
Chapter 87: Years Ago
Years AgoAfter his father’s death, something inside Peter shut down.He still smiled at home—for his mother’s sake. He forced himself to eat dinner, talk about his day, pretend like things were okay.But the moment he stepped outside that front door, everything turned gray. School felt pointless. People became background noise. Every sound, every color, every bit of life dulled like a photograph left in the sun.He carried the guilt everywhere. Heavy. Constant.He blamed himself.But more than that—he blamed gambling.That final gamble… the one his father lost everything on.It didn’t matter that Peter had nothing to do with it. In his heart, he believed if he had been stronger, smarter, faster—maybe he could’ve stopped it.So he made a promise.No more risks.No more games.No more gambles.That was the code he lived by.Until the day he met her.---It was a cold, quiet morning. Peter had his hands in his pockets, walking to school like always—head down, earbuds in, lost in his tho
