Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 397 The Cycle of Gambling
"Every gambler will tell you,"

They longed for a miracle.

But I'll tell you,
Miracles themselves are the biggest lie.

Fate is never kind.
The only thing it gives to gamblers,
Only a final smile before death.

"Just when you think you've finally defeated fate, you realize you've been playing games with it all along."

"Remember, at the gambling table, your greatest enemy is always yourself."

—Excerpt from "The Game of Fate"

With one hand supporting himself against the wall, Si Ming staggered and cautiously walked through the almost frozen darkness.

When his fingertips touched the wall surface, a cool and sticky sensation slowly rose up his nerves, as if he were inside the viscera of some huge creature.

He could even feel the hidden writhing beneath the wall, like a nightmare yet to awaken, whispering dark secrets that did not belong to the human world.

A nauseating, fishy stench accompanied by faint wriggling...
A crimson, murky liquid seeped from the fine cracks in the wall, silently trickling down and soaking his palms.

It was as if the entire corridor was inside the body of some enormous and unknown creature.

The gradually accelerating rhythm seemed to synchronize with his own heartbeat, eerie and suffocating.

Si Ming suppressed the nausea surging within him, his brows furrowed, and took a difficult step forward.

His intuition whispered in his ear that this eerie back room was never an ordinary alternate dimension, but rather the inner world of some indescribable entity.

Every step he took seemed to be on a certain boundary; if he were not careful, he would be completely swallowed by the darkness.

In the darkness ahead, a strange door vaguely appeared.

Si Ming gazed at it, a familiar yet strange sense of oppression quietly rising in his chest, making him feel inexplicably throbbing as if it were destiny.

He looked down at the mysterious card in his hand—"True Lies, the Thousand-Faced Weaver of Fate."

Nineteen fragments of destiny float silently on the card surface, each fragment covered by a pale mask, like the ghost of fate, constantly intertwining and merging.

Some of those fragments whisper like stars, telling unspeakable secrets from the depths of the universe;

Some are dim and broken, exuding the endless desolation and sorrow of falling stars;
Some are like an endless sea of ​​stars, their starlight twinkling with the cruel irony of fate;
Others exude an aura of endless years and vicissitudes, heavy and ancient.

The nineteen fragments represent the nineteen failed destinies he collected with his own hands.

And at this moment, he stood before the door of the twentieth fragment. According to the Dream Weaver of Destiny, this fragment was the very beginning of his fate.

Si Ming took a deep breath, and without further hesitation, stepped into the space behind the door.

However, the sudden change in the scene before him as he stepped through the door made him abruptly stop in his tracks.

This was not the gloomy and twisted scene he had imagined, but an unusually familiar and extravagant place—the gambling city of the Mysterious Garden, "Angel's Tears".

The warm, golden light flickered softly and ambiguously, and the air was filled with the intoxicating aroma of alcohol and cigars.

In the casino, illusory gamblers come and go, the sounds of chips and dice clashing lightly yet jarringly intertwining to create the clamor and allure of fate.

All of this made Si Ming feel both overly familiar and uneasy.

Siming's breath hitched, and his gaze trembled violently.

He looked around in surprise and disbelief, only to find himself standing in the casino where the "Golden Illusion" tournament had taken place.

"Impossible..." he murmured to himself, a huge and deep wave surging in his heart.

In the center of the casino, beside a magnificent gambling table, dazzling lights focused like stars on a man with his back to him.

The man was leisurely and calmly playing with the playing cards in his hand, as if he had expected his arrival and was just waiting for this moment that fate had arranged.

Si Ming forced himself to calm down, staring coldly at the familiar yet unfamiliar back.

He walked straight through the illusory gamblers and waiters, as if ignoring this false illusion of fate, and stood calmly and confidently before the gambling table.

He chuckled softly, his voice carrying a youthful defiant and arrogance:
"Good luck, friend. I'd like to place some bets. I wonder if I'm welcome to this gambling platform?"

The man seemed to have anticipated his arrival and slowly turned around.

His face was hidden from the bright light, only a shadow blurring his true outline, and his voice carried an eerie pleasure and composure:

"Of course, I have been waiting for you for a long time, my guest."

The voice sounded extremely familiar to Si Ming, yet it was so distant that he could hardly remember it.

He subconsciously frowned slightly, expecting to see a face exactly like his own, but found that everything in front of him was completely beyond his comprehension.

When the other person's face finally emerged from the shadows, Siming felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave. His pupils suddenly contracted, and his whole body stiffened to the point that he could hardly breathe.

"No...impossible..."

It was an ordinary face, almost boring, so ordinary that it could be forgotten by anyone at any time.

But Si Ming could never forget it; that face had appeared clearly in the deepest part of his memory, deeply imprinted on his soul.

He was the uncle who had lost the "Thousand-Faced One" mystery card to himself during the "Golden Illusion" tournament betting game—

The same gambling table, the same casino, even the lighting is exactly the same.

A storm raged within Si Ming's heart, and he was completely overwhelmed by shock and fear.

The man opposite him, however, remained calm and composed, smiling with a hint of playful mockery.
"What's wrong, my guest? You seem quite surprised?"

His fingertips slowly traced the playing cards in his hand, his voice gradually becoming cold and deep, piercing straight to the soul:

"Or perhaps, you've finally recognized me?"

Si Ming took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, his voice low and restrained:
"Who...are you?"

The man's smile gradually cooled, seemingly filled with great disappointment and irony at Si Ming's question, and he responded in a cold and firm voice:

"Don't you understand yet?"

Every word he uttered was like a sharp blade, coldly and cruelly severing Si Ming's last shred of sanity:

"I am the twentieth fragment of destiny you have been searching for, and also the starting point of your destiny..."

“Siming, I am—you.”

In an instant, Si Ming's breath caught in his throat, and the world slowly crumbled in his eyes.

He understood that this showdown, which began with fate, had completely torn away the last illusion.

My name is Si Ming, and soon they will respectfully call me—the gambler of fate.

Before becoming a cryptid, I was the craziest player in the gambling city of Angel's Tears.

For me at that time, gambling was the only way to have fun. Fate was nothing more than a stake in my card game, and the sound of dice being thrown was my way of talking to destiny.

I was addicted to the thrill and excitement of the moment of victory, thinking that this was the greatest gamble in life.

Until one day, after that seemingly ordinary gambling game ended, I found myself inexplicably holding a mysterious deck of cards.

It seemed to carry some primal consciousness, whispering its name to me in the darkness—'The Gambler's Lament'.

At that time, I was naive and ignorant, unable to comprehend its hidden power, and even less aware that it was about to bestow upon me an inescapable curse and gift.

However, it was at this moment that my destiny was completely rewritten.

The Three-Star Mystic Master—that was the first place I entered this other world.

With "The Fatal Gambler's Lament," I swept through the gambling table, never tasting defeat. Those gamblers, full of dreams or burdened with debt, those clumsy or cunning dealers...

Even legendary poker players who once dominated the gambling world are nothing more than insignificant dust in front of my hand.

Their cheating, manipulation, and even luck are all meaningless in the face of my absolute gambling skills and luck.

But I soon discovered that this easy victory only plunged me into emptiness and boredom.

Every victory became mechanical and utterly unenjoyable; the outcome of each bet seemed pre-scripted.

I've already glimpsed the mystery of fate, and I'm now craving more and greater challenges.

More exciting, more deadly bets—the mundane games of humankind can no longer satisfy my hunger.

So, without hesitation, I stepped into that hidden and mysterious world, the true sanctuary of gamblers.

Mysterious cards are the chips, life is the stake, but what about reason?
The moment I embarked on this path, I disdainfully abandoned it.

From then on, every time I ignited a star, every time I advanced, every time I rose to a higher star level, I paid the price with my life, putting myself in a life-or-death situation.

Gradually, I climbed to heights that were difficult for most people to reach.

When I finally stood before the Gate of the Star Calamity, I was already a Twelve-Star Mystic.

In the darkness of countless nights, eerie and alluring whispers linger in my ears.

The voice came from the King in Yellow—one of the three powers of destiny, and the writer of the script.

His voice, as seductive as a snake, coiled around my nerves, relentlessly bewitching me:
"Don't you want to try it? To try taking control of your destiny, even to feel like you're above it..."

Above fate?
No, that was never what I longed for.

I simply crave an extreme and insane gamble with it, placing myself at the limit where the outcome is uncertain.

Only the extreme game where life and death hang by a thread is the ecstasy and destiny I have pursued throughout my life.

So I laughed loudly, ignoring the Yellow King's veiled warning.
Without hesitation, he chose his own extraordinary path—the [Gambler of Fate].

The elegy of a gambler with a fated destiny became my first mystery;

The King in Yellow became my second mystery, granting me the terrifying power to rewrite and manipulate the script of fate.
And Jormungandr, the World Serpent, symbolizes eternal greed and devouring.

It then becomes my third mystery, granting me the power to plunder all things.

As the power of the Cataclysm flowed into my soul, and the divine entropy washed over my remaining sanity like a torrent,
From the void came His question, lofty and imposing, filled with both mockery and majesty:
"Gambler, are you ready for your gamble?"

My response to Him was a burst of unrestrained, arrogant laughter, a voice brimming with the madness and arrogance characteristic of a fatalistic gambler:

"What a joke! From the moment I stepped into the casino, I had already embarked on this ultimate gamble with fate!"

"I am Si Ming, the only—gambler of fate!"

Legend has it that when the one who ascends to godhood takes his place, the Tower of the End will slowly open.

Behind that door lies the most glorious, desperate, and magnificent battlefield for us, the ascendants who stand atop the celestial calamity.

That is our final destination, that is the true final battle.

And I have been eagerly anticipating that moment for a long time.

The Land of the End seals countless Mysterious Cards, and one of them is the supreme mystery symbolizing destiny itself—'The True Lie, the Thousand-Faced Weaver of Destiny'.

For this moment, I have climbed, fought, and reincarnated countless times, until I personally defeated, suppressed, and even expelled those self-proclaimed gods who thought themselves superior.

As I finally stepped onto that eerie and decaying opera house, my soul was filled with an unprecedented excitement and longing.

Finally, there, I met the ultimate opponent I had been searching for my entire life—

【destiny】.

Without hesitation, I embarked on the final and greatest gamble with it.

At that moment, fate, like an actor mocking the world, slowly turned around and smiled at me, and I smiled back at it.

A fateful gamble that transcends life, death, and eternity has begun.

However, I lost that time.

The defeat was complete and devastating, like a grand fireworks display suddenly extinguished, leaving only a pile of cold ashes.

My past, present, and future—all possibilities shattered in that moment.
A mocking smile bloomed on the face of the Thousand-Faced Lord of Fate, proclaiming that my script had long since been utterly torn up.

Even so, I did not lose everything.

Because in that final gamble, I saw clearly the secret hidden beneath fate's false and glamorous facade—fate also has fear.

Beneath its indifferent expression, however, lay a fear and apprehension of something even more ancient and primordial.

In every gamble we gamblers wager, we are never fighting for any noble glory, but rather for the most primal fear in the human heart.

So I placed another bet with fate, continuing this never-ending gamble.

I know perfectly well that it's using me, just as I'm using it.

So what? The greatest pleasure for gamblers comes from this game that they are deeply involved in but cannot escape.

Everyone is a pawn, and everyone is also a player. It's just a matter of who can be more patient and who can always show a calm smile before fate is fully revealed.

With a smile on my face, I walked alongside it, stepping together into the void beyond the timeline.

In those countless multiverses, I have been an elderly and wise professor, a bewildered and ignorant gambler, and a greedy and cunning dealer.

Even the seemingly unskilled and utterly ordinary "rookie" uncle reappears, handing the "Thousand Faces" mystery card to his past self hundreds of times.

I watched them start anew time and time again, enacting entirely new dramas beyond their control, dramas that even I myself had never anticipated.

As for myself?

I had already seen my final destination through the script of "The King in Yellow"—a special space called the "Back Room."

The cage that the supreme being of the world system, the Lord of the Gate, specially forged to imprison me.

But what does it matter?
I was already prepared. Time no longer meant anything to me. All I had was patience to wait quietly.

I watched with a detached expression as one fragment of failed destiny after another was thrown into the back room, without ever feeling the slightest bit of frustration or anxiety.
Because I know clearly that one day, the final fragment of destiny—the one that embodies all my possibilities and future—will stand before me.

At that time, I will calmly step out of this cage called destiny, step back onto that magnificent yet dangerous stage, and begin my farewell performance.

Now, the time has finally come.

The final gamble I've been waiting for has finally arrived.

At that moment, I calmly and with a smile stepped onto the gambling table, gazing at the version of myself across from me—similar yet completely different—and whispered:

"Hello, my destiny. Looking forward to this round, neither of us will be disappointed."

Ultimately, the gambler of fate lost all his bets.
But they won the most important game in a desperate situation.

It turns out that the gamble he had pursued his whole life...

The opponent is never fate itself.

Rather, it's the self that has never truly conquered itself.

—Excerpt from "The Gambler's Tale, Final Chapter"

(End of this chapter)