Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 383 Turning Life and Death Upside Down
"Fate never favors anyone; it only favors gamblers who dare to turn the tables."

—Excerpt from "The Fateful Gamble: A Card Master's Notes"

The moment the three-headed dragon charged into the arena, the entire arena seemed to be struck hard by the hammer of fate, trembling violently.

The cheers and screams from the audience reached a climax in an instant, like a tidal wave sweeping in and instantly drowning out all rationality.

People are fascinated by violence and bloodshed, like gamblers on fate, yearning to glimpse the hidden and cruel truth amidst the chaos.

The giant proudly raised his head, his muscles expanding and deforming at a terrifying speed.

Dark scales grew from beneath his skin, coldly reflecting an eerie luster, and three dragon heads burst forth from his shoulders.

Each one spewed forth a violent elemental force—scorching flames, dark poisonous mist, and twisted black currents intertwined to create a scene of destruction that engulfed the view.

The venue instantly transformed into a furnace, the air scorching and distorted, and the ground cracked like a spiderweb in an instant, a poignant metaphor for a broken star map.

Sitting in the audience on an elegant sofa, Mr. Xiao appeared calm and proud.

He surveyed the entire room with satisfaction, his gaze finally settling on Si Ming, his tone filled with condescending scrutiny and mockery:

"This is the true high-level mystic, Master Si Ming. I hope your performance will not disappoint me."

Si Ming sat upright at the sidelines, gently swirling the wine glass in his hand, the amber liquid reflecting in his deep eyes.

His gaze did not fall on Xiao's father, as if the other party's provocation was not worth mentioning. He simply stared meaningfully at the center of the arena.

Lynn asked in a slightly anxious voice, "Siming,...shouldn't we take action?"

Si Ming smiled calmly, shook his head slightly, and said in a steady and calm tone: "No need to rush, I haven't finished playing this hand yet."

As soon as the words were spoken, the three heads of the evil dragon in the arena let out a deafening roar, and three destructive breaths transformed into a terrifying storm that instantly engulfed the entire battlefield.

The audience went wild again, but Si Ming seemed to be in another time and space, simply watching the scene quietly, his eyes gleaming with a deep light.

At this moment, in this game of fate, the stakes have doubled.

The illusory Fate Master in the arena swiftly dodged amidst the raging winds and flames, dangerously and skillfully avoiding deadly attacks like a kite string fluttering in the wind.

However, the oppressive power of the three-headed dragon far exceeded expectations; every claw strike and every breath carried the power to destroy everything.

Finally, a dragon claw struck the Illusory Fate Master fiercely. His figure trembled and twisted instantly, and he was sent flying like a reflection in a mirror.

It slammed hard onto the ground, kicking up clouds of dust and broken debris.

The audience fell silent instantly, and astonished whispers quickly spread, with disappointment and confusion appearing on everyone's faces.

Their gazes all turned to Si Ming, who remained composed in the VIP section, their eyes filled with doubt and confusion.

Mr. Xiao's lips curled into a satisfied smile as he gently swirled his wine glass, his gaze filled with undisguised contempt and provocation.

"Is the legendary Master of Fate really nothing special? Your substitute seems to have no chance of winning. Why don't you go and fight yourself instead of wasting everyone's time?"

His words were as sharp as a knife, intended to completely destroy Si Ming's dignity and arrogance, but Si Ming remained unmoved.

He simply smiled slightly, calmly meeting the other person's gaze, his voice steady yet conveying an unwavering certainty:
"The game has only just begun, and the dealer hasn't even signaled you to turn over your cards yet. Why are you in such a hurry?"

Si Ming's gaze returned to the arena, where the illusory figure struggled to stand up slowly, its gray outline almost collapsing.

However, under the despairing gazes of the crowd, he slowly raised his palm.

A faint but firm light suddenly emerged from the palm of the Illusory Fate Master.

It was a broken yet dazzling card, its faint light shining like stars. Strange fate patterns and distorted star charts floated on it, as if carrying the deepest whispers of destiny between heaven and earth.

Everyone present held their breath, their eyes fixed on the strange card, as if they could hear whispers from the Whisperer's Eye in the abyss.

The wheel of fate continues to spin, the climax of the gamble has yet to come, and the real game has only just begun.

At this moment, Si Ming slightly raised the corners of his lips, gently swirling the wine glass in his hand, the wine reflecting the endless depth and confidence in his eyes.

He knew that he was already in an invincible position in this gamble—because fate never favors those arrogant people who think they can control their destiny.

Down in the audience, Lynn breathed a slight sigh of relief, a gentle and gratified smile appearing on her face.

She had already seen through Si Ming's confidence, and what welled up in her heart at this moment was no longer anxiety, but a faint expectation.

In the theater of fate, this gamble is destined to end in a way that cannot be peaceful.

And Si Ming will, in his unique way, tear through the fog that intertwines fate and reality.

The gambling has just begun.

The illusory Fate Master slowly stood up, a strange yet composed smile appearing on his pale face, as if the curtain of fate was being slowly drawn back.

“I wanted to give you one last chance,” he whispered, his voice as calm as the whispers of a nightmare lurking in the night.

"But unfortunately, fate has never seemed to favor you."

A mysterious glimmer of light suddenly appeared in his palm, like stars coalescing, and then quickly transformed into an ancient and mysterious card.

The God of Fate's gaze was calm and profound as he softly murmured an incantation:

"The elegy for the gambler of destiny has begun. Come, let's embark on a gamble of fate together."

With a flick of the finger, five cards suddenly twirled and spun in the air, finally solidifying into a stunning and sharp hand: "This is the elegy for us gamblers."

Four dazzling 10-point cards, accompanied by a majestic King, as imposing as a throne.

"The first card is the ten of diamonds."

A faint flame, like a spider's thread, suddenly flew out and gently swept across the space.

But it only left a tiny, charred mark on the dragon's tough scales.

"The second one is the ten of plum blossoms."

A ghostly green toxin quietly emerged, attempting to infiltrate the dragon's body, but was instantly crushed and dissipated by the terrifying life force, leaving only a helpless sigh.

"The third card, the ten of spades."

The sharp energy condensed into a blade of light, which swiftly sliced ​​across the dragon's belly, but only tore a few scales before being quickly healed, seemingly without causing any real damage.

"The fourth card is a ten of hearts."

The hazy illusion appeared briefly, like a person in a mirror. The giant shook his head slightly, then let out a contemptuous sneer, his arrogance growing even stronger.

"The fifth card, the King of Diamonds, the heavily armed puppet appears."

A colossal puppet silently emerged from the void, its heavy greatsword slashing down with a low wind pressure, only stirring up dust, unable to even shake the terrifying behemoth.

A sigh of disappointment suddenly rose from the audience, and whispers surged like a tidal wave.

Suspicious and mocking gazes were unanimously directed at Siming, who was sitting leisurely in the VIP room, sipping red wine.

The illusory Fate Master on the field slowly curled a smile that was almost mocking.

Everyone present held their breath.

He gently raised his left hand, and a black clown card with gray mist and blood-red patterns fluttered and spun at his fingertips before silently floating in the air.

His voice then rang out, deep and clear, as if mixed with a tone that did not belong to human language:
"You think I only played an offensive card?"

"wrong."

He paused, slowly raised his eyes, and gazed at the audience, and at fate itself.

"The secrets of our destiny are called—'The Elegy of the Fated Gambler'."

"The rules are simple: five cards determine the form of the Joker's dream."

"The Ten of Diamonds is the Lock of Flames."

"The Plum Blossom Ten is the seal of a poisonous oath."

"The Ten of Spades is the sharp edge that severs the pulse."

"The ten of hearts is an illusion in a mirror."

"Add the King of Diamonds, and dedicate it to the oath of destiny."

"What you just experienced was not an attack, but His very essence."

His voice was completely still, yet it sent a chill down the spine of everyone in the room.

"The Joker will not open his eyes until all five cards are dealt."

"Now, the deck is complete." "The Black Joker is about to descend."

The audience fell silent.

The giant's three dragon heads roared in unison, trying to break free, but they were shocked to find that their life lines were burning with pain, and their souls seemed to be stitched tightly into an impending nightmare by invisible needles.

The Deity of Illusion reached out and gently touched the black Joker card:
"Please allow me to declare the final words on behalf of fate."

He murmured softly, his tone heavy and complex like a mysterious ritual, as if chanting some incomprehensible code.

Whispers filled the air.

At first it was just blurry, then it became clearer and clearer, as if the entire arena was trapped in a dream of an unfinished book.

Gray mist rose from the cards, condensing into a clown phantom draped in tattered silk and wearing a broken mask. Its body was woven from shattered star charts, ancient dice, and blood-red life patterns.

The clown slowly lowered his head and looked at the dragon. It had no eyes, yet it seemed to be watching over the cracks in every soul.

The next moment, it smiled.

It was an indescribable arc, as if the starry sky itself had cracked open.

The giant's body suddenly trembled violently, and its three dragon heads rose high, simultaneously emitting—

It wasn't a roar.

Instead, it was a mournful cry.

Illusions began to invade.

It wasn't just poison, nor just a hallucination; it was a "reversal" at the level of fate—

He saw that he was still fighting, but unable to hurt anyone;
He saw that the God of Fate had long since died, yet he was resurrected from the gray mist time and time again;
He saw the audience cheering for him, but he couldn't understand their language.

He began to wonder if the world was real, or a dream behind the cards.

"No...don't continue—!"

One of the three-headed dragons, Collapse Scream.

The illusory Fate Master stared at him calmly, his voice devoid of emotion, only laced with sarcasm:
"You've already lost, not because of strength, not because of skill."

"The problem is—you don't understand when the game starts at the poker table."

The audience was silent.

A few breaths later, the illusory clown suddenly shattered into countless cracks.

It did not launch an attack; it merely "confirmed the result."

The massive body of the three-headed dragon suddenly crashed to the ground, collapsing like a giant puppet whose life force had been severed, raising clouds of dust.

The illusory Fate Master turned away, his back to the collapsing monster, leaving only a single, fleeting sentence:

"The game is over, the cards are back in play and the pot is shuffled."

In an instant, the entire hall fell into a deathly silence, the previous mocking voices replaced by shock and awe.

The three-headed dragon, which had been so arrogant just moments before, was now like a kite with a broken string, utterly plunged into the abyss of fate.

The illusory Fate Master slowly looked back at the audience, his deep eyes revealing a hint of indescribable pity and irony.

He bowed gracefully, and then his figure faded away like a reflection in a mirror, the gray mist slowly dissipating into the void as if he had never existed.

In the VIP section, the real Master of Fate slowly stood up and leisurely put down his wine glass.

He calmly and indifferently glanced at Xiao's father, whose face was filled with fear and confusion, and said in a low voice, "So, are you satisfied with my 'test' now?"

Mr. Xiao's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty, as if a thousand words were stuck in his throat, but he could not speak.

In the end, he could only say in a hoarse, trembling voice:

"Yes... I'm satisfied, Mr. Siming, you win. Now, can we discuss the specifics of the commission?"

Si Ming nodded slightly, a calm and confident smile playing on his lips: "Of course, but before that, I need to know a few things—for example, why is Xiao Jie so obsessed with those strange tales and the secrets of the 'back room'?"

A single sentence, like a star suddenly shining in the dark night, stirred ripples, and the room fell into a heavy silence once more.

Xiao's father's expression gradually darkened and became complex, a hint of pain and struggle appearing on his face.
After a moment, he slowly said, "In the past few months, Xiao Jie's personality has changed drastically. He has been obsessed with those strange legends, especially urban legends and mysteries. He no longer communicates with me and has even been in frequent contact with a group called 'Above the Star Calamity'."

Upon hearing this, Si Ming's gaze sharpened, and his tone carried a subtle pressure: "Are you sure that the name of that club is 'Above Star Calamity'?"

Mr. Xiao was slightly taken aback, then nodded solemnly:
"That's right. He also mentioned a book, 'Above the Star Calamity, the Dream Weaver of Fate'."

He claimed that the book completely overturned his worldview, allowing him to witness a real world hidden beneath the stars… Perhaps this is why he ultimately got lost in the 'backroom'.”

Si Ming remained silent for a moment, his gaze gradually becoming sharp and profound: "It seems that this game is far more complex than we imagined. Don't worry, I will do my best to fulfill my promise to you."

Upon hearing this, Mr. Xiao's expression relaxed slightly, and his tone became firm and hopeful: "No matter the cost, please bring my son back."

Si Ming nodded slightly, his voice calm yet firm: "It's a pleasure working with you."

He turned and walked out of the room, with Lynn silently following behind him. Their figures were gradually swallowed up by the ambiguous, hazy light of Golden Village.

In the room, only Xiao's father remained, gazing in the direction they had left with a complex expression, his eyes deep and uneasy.

A lingering sense of suspense and unease hung in the air, as if a more dangerous and complex web of fate was just beginning to unfold.

At this moment, Si Ming walks between the mist and reality, his steps firm and composed.

He knew that on this path to truth and redemption, an even crueler choice of fate awaited him.

The turning of the wheel of fortune seemed to whisper to him, telling him of an impending storm of destiny.

The gamble is far from over.

As night fell like a dark curtain, the lights of Dunhuang City lit up like fragments of a star map, illuminating the city's enchanting silhouette.

Si Ming carried the desserts he had carefully selected for Selene into the hotel room. The corridor was quiet, as if no storm had touched this place. However, the moment he pushed open the living room door, the air suddenly tightened.

Selene sat on the sofa, her gaze as deep and dark as the edge of a blood-red night. The gauze window to her side was ajar, and the night wind whipped her long hair like black feathers. Lin Wanqing sat beside her, blood seeping from her shoulder, wrapped in a simple bandage, her expression weary.

Si Ming gently placed the dessert on the table, her voice devoid of warmth: "What happened?"

Selene slowly raised her head, her voice low and somber: "We're being watched."

She briefly described her encounter that evening: "They have a strong vampire aura, come from an ancient clan, and their style is very similar to the remnants of the Twin Princesses. They are very well hidden."

"Attack you?" Siming frowned slightly.

“It’s not just me.” She paused, then turned her gaze to Lin Wanqing. “They… seem more interested in her.”

Lin Wanqing was taken aback: "I'm just an ordinary person..."

Si Ming didn't answer immediately, but stared at her silently, his fingers tapping the edge of the glass coffee table. A very subtle change flashed in his eyes—a kind of guess, a ripple of fate that even he couldn't confirm.

“This is no ordinary attack.” He spoke slowly, his voice carrying an indescribable sense of oppression. “The vampires are not here for revenge; they are… searching for something.”

Celian's expression was grave: "They mentioned 'fragments of the Twin Princesses' star map,' assuming I knew about it. And Wanqing... might have been marked by some kind of destiny mark."

Si Ming didn't ask any more questions. He just looked out the window. The night sky in the distance was deep and starless, as if the entire sky was shrouded in the unknown fate.

“We’ve become entangled in a deeper game,” he said softly, as if addressing someone else, or perhaps only to himself.

At that moment, a crow flew past the window, its afterimage like a crack tearing through the sky.

The room fell silent again for a brief moment.

Si Ming stood up and walked towards the study. His voice came from behind, resolute:

"Get ready. Not just against vampires."

"Someone is spying on our fate line—this kite string cannot be broken, nor can it be pulled away by others."

Selene nodded, her gaze growing sharper, while Lin Wanqing lowered her head in thought, her expression bewildered and wavering.

She never truly understood why she had been drawn into all of this, and now she was beginning to have a vague feeling that her background might not be as simple as she believed.

In the distance outside the window, amidst the swirling black mist, it seemed as if blood-red pupils had quietly opened, gazing upon the city about to burn.

"The real gambler always has everything under control before fate reveals its hand, and the true truth is always hidden outside of fate."

—Excerpt from *The Mysterious Hand: The Last Words of the Fated One*

(End of this chapter)