Chapter 9

Early in the morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the mist, I found myself racing toward the infamous gambling den. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum, each beat echoing my urgency. With the heat intensifying and the adrenaline pumping, sweat drenched my neck and clothes.

"I need to change the bet, the game will be played in mere hours!" I gasped, the words tumbling out in a frantic whirlwind as I burst into the restaurant. The backside, a shadowy gateway to gambling den, was guarded by a lone bodyguard , a tattooed bald guy with big muscles. He sat, an immovable force, right beside the door, his eyes a calm sea of indifference.

"You cannot enter, kid," the bodyguard stopped me, his voice a low rumble of authority. A faint scent of tobacco lingered around him.

“Please, I need to change my betting,” I pleaded, desperation lacing my voice. My hands trembled, betraying my inner turmoil. “It was a staggering $128,000 at stake. My only lifeline. I came here last tim
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