Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 453 Sinking into the Abyss of Gambling: A Stage of Lies and Life-or-Death Gambles
"In the abyss of depravity, power and identity are meaningless."

A gambler's only weapons are chips, luck, and—the courage to risk their life.

—From *The Abyss of Gambling: The Life-or-Death Chapter*

The lights in the hall's dome suddenly went out, and a suffocating darkness enveloped everything.

The sound of a wheelchair slowly rolling could be heard.

Old Harrens pushed his withered body into the center of the arena, his eyes sunken and his voice hoarse, yet exuding an undeniable aura of authority.

"—The abyss of gambling begins."

As he uttered the mysterious words, the floor suddenly cracked open.

In the next instant, five hundred slot machines of various styles sprang up from the ground, their lights flashing, and the levers, reels, and coin patterns lighting up simultaneously, their roar making one's heart tremble.

The old patriarch raised a withered hand and pointed his finger towards the arena.

"Most of the 500 machines here are empty and will never pay out a prize."

"But twelve of them can pay out small prizes: one thousand chips each time."

"Three winning machines, each hitting 50,000 coins."

"There's one more machine—the million-dollar jackpot machine. One hit and it pays out a million."

He paused for a moment, his voice low.

"Ten hours. You are free to move around and insert coins as you please."

"The one with the most chips in the end will be the new head of the family."

"The rest of you—not just the chips, but your lives—belong to the victor."

As soon as he finished speaking, the giant central screen lit up with a bang.

Three lines of golden text flashed simultaneously:

Charlotte Harrens: 29,000 chips

Carlos Harrons: 14,000 chips

Hack Harrens: 10,300 chips

The air in the room suddenly tightened.

The old patriarch coughed twice, but his withered eyes remained cold and ruthless.

"Each person may bring one assistant, and all players share the same pool of chips. Remember—this is a winner-takes-all game."

He slowly raised his hand, as if announcing the start of a grand feast:
"—Let's begin, gamblers."

The numbers on the screen were still flashing, symbolizing the total chips held by the three heirs, like a cold declaration of fate.

With a wave of his hand, the three men stepped forward, each accompanied by their "assistant".

Hack held the cigar in his mouth and waved his hand dismissively.

"As for an assistant, of course I've already prepared one."

Si Ming, standing beside him, pushed up his thick glasses, his expression wooden, like a reserved scholar.

The surrounding heirs cast skeptical and mocking glances: this strange "professor" seemed more like a burden.

Charlotte sat in her pink chair, a sweet smile on her face.

She clapped her hands gently.

A black-haired waitress walked slowly, her steps like blades cutting through the ground, her samurai sword gleaming coldly.

“My maid, Uesugi Nana.”

Charlotte's sweet voice echoed in the hall, "She has served only the princess since she was five years old. She is the only one who can wield a sword for me."

Carlos, with a golden cigar in his mouth, remained silent.

Charlotte tilted her head, her smile full of sarcasm:

“Harrens’s thugs… What? You don’t have any helpers?”

She suddenly chuckled softly, as if telling a fairy tale: "Ah, I forgot. Your best partner, your brother Riddle, has already been sent to hell by me."

The air in the room tightened.

Carlos took a deep drag on his cigar, the embers illuminating his rugged face.

"This year, I am truly grateful for your kindness."

His voice was low and laced with hostility, “Charlotte, you can find a way to eliminate anyone I want, especially Riddle. — But you miscalculated.”

The words have not yet fallen.

Beside Carlos, a mercenary slowly raised his hand and wiped his face a few times.

With a "ripping" sound, the entire human skin mask was torn off.

That originally fierce face instantly transformed into something else entirely.

Gentle and refined, yet ruthless and decisive.

"—Riddle?!"

Charlotte's voice lost control for the first time, sharp and angry.

"That's impossible! You clearly already—"

Hack was stunned, and the cigar in his mouth almost fell off.

He subconsciously looked at Si Ming.

Si Ming merely smiled slightly, his voice low and soft:
Lies are everywhere.

Riddle stepped forward, his eyes cold.

"Charlotte, thanks to you, I got to see quite a show."

His tone was icy, like a vow suppressed for too long:

“I remember your kindness and your ‘gift’.”

Charlotte's expression changed drastically, and she abruptly raised her hand to accuse him: "Grandpa! They cheated! This is a trick!"

Old Harrens on the second floor simply coughed twice and raised the Mysterious Card in his hand.

The card did not react.

The old patriarch's cold gaze swept over them: "No secret techniques were used."

Carlos exhaled a puff of smoke and grinned.

“Three months ago, Riddle stormed into my headquarters. We men like to settle scores quickly. He thought I had killed his woman and caused a huge scene at my place.”

"And what happened? We made a bet. My bionics project happened to be successful, so I created a stand-in for him."

Riddle picked up the conversation, his voice low: "I've given up most of my assets and resources for this day."

Charlotte—if this game falls into my hands, I swear, I'll turn you into a doll myself.

Charlotte's sweet smile vanished completely, leaving only coldness and anger.

She snorted coldly, turned and left, leaving behind only the words: "Hmph, an ugly game of men."

The lineups for the three teams were finally revealed. Old Harrens raised his hand on the second floor, his withered voice echoing throughout the hall once more:

"Time, ten hours."

Winner takes all.

As soon as he finished speaking, all five hundred slot machines lit up at once, their lights crisscrossing and ribbons fluttering.

The entire hall seemed to have transformed into a mechanical forest, with levers and rollers humming and flashing fluorescent lights intertwining in the air, resembling a magnificent yet chilling feast.

The three heirs, each accompanied by their own assistants, entered the labyrinth at the same time.

Charlotte walked ahead, her voluminous skirt swaying, while her maid, Uesugi Nana, moved like a shadow, sword in hand.

She surveyed the garden like a proud princess, a smile playing on her pink lips: "This ball is destined for a princess."

Carlos, his massive frame billowing smoke, was followed closely by Riddle, his sharp eyes like a hunting dog locking onto its prey.

Hack and Siming walked one after the other, their obese figures and dull glasses making them seem out of place.

The numbers on the giant screen flickered, cold, hard numbers that seemed to proclaim the gap between them.

Si Ming stopped and looked up at the nearest machine.

It was an old slot machine, its surface studded with fake gems, and the fruit patterns on the reels were worn away.

He looked at the flickering lights and murmured to himself:

"Five hundred units, most of which are empty."

"Twelve machines can dispense small prizes, three machines might dispense big prizes, and one machine... is holding onto a million."

He pushed up his glasses and tapped his fingertips lightly on the armrest, as if he were playing a rhythm.

"Each coin insertion has an independent probability...that's what they told us."

His gaze turned cold.

"But gamblers all know that a machine that doesn't pay out even after dozens of tries isn't just bad luck."

"It's holding back."

He smiled gently, a glint of light flashing in his eyes through his glasses.

"—When you hold it in to the limit, the big prize will come out."

In the distance, Huck was still cursing loudly: "Damn it, five hundred units, what a rip-off! How can we have time to test them one by one?!"

Si Ming simply shook his head.

In his eyes, this labyrinth of lights was not a gambling machine, but a stage for destiny.

He murmured in a low voice:
"Harrens' stage... is getting more and more exciting."

The lights shimmered, and the slot machine's reels spun rapidly amidst a roar.

In this "steel forest" composed of five hundred machines, Siming and Hak walk side by side.

They weren't as swaggering as Charlotte, nor as imposing as Carlos.

They were just two old dogs, used to crawling through the smoke of the casino.

Si Ming's glasses reflected the light, his expression was blank, but his fingertips lightly traced the lever of the machine.

This movement was so practiced it was like breathing.

"For someone who's been in the gambling business for years, the first rule—" he murmured to himself.

"Test the waters first, and stop short of a taste. Your stakes are your life, so don't bet recklessly."

Hack's forehead was covered in sweat, but his thick hands were surprisingly steady.

"The Mafia can open underground casinos in Golden City because of one word—stability."

He would only place one chip at a time, patiently working his way up the machine's "temperament" little by little, like a millstone.

They tacitly divided the work:
—The God of Fate is in charge, quickly testing the waters;
—Hark is behind, holding out for one machine.

The fourth stage, Si Ming, stopped.

He raised an eyebrow, pushed up his glasses, and dropped in his three hundredth chip.

"Ding--!"

The slot machine's lights suddenly blazed on, the reel stopped, and the fruit was lined up in a row.

"Tap-tap-tap-"

A thousand chips were poured out, the sound of them hitting the tray exploding like a sudden rainstorm.

Si Ming smiled and put the chips away.

"A decent start."

But when he turned around, he saw a completely different scene on Hack's side.

The screen flashes red text: 479 already invested.

Hack's face was covered in sweat, a cigar dangling from his mouth, but his eyes were fixed on the machine.

"Hey, I feel like this machine has potential."

His voice was low and deep, as if he were encouraging himself.

Si Ming walked over and gently placed his palm on the machine's casing, feeling the faint vibration transmitted through the lever.

He nodded, his tone calm: "I agree."

But the number of chips is gradually decreasing.

500, 600...

The tray is getting emptier and emptier.

Hack's face stiffened. He finally turned his head and asked awkwardly, "Should we change it? Maybe... I was wrong?"

Si Ming simply looked at him, his calm eyes visible behind his glasses.

"continue."

Hack gritted his teeth and pulled the lever down sharply.

The rollers spun rapidly, and fruits, numbers, and patterns mingled together in a blur of light and shadow.

The whooshing sound of the rolling machine made their hearts skip a beat.

The lights flashed, and the speed of the roller gradually decreased.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

—It's about to stop.

Si Ming narrowed his eyes, while Hack clenched his fists tightly.

The air froze, and everyone held their breath.

Some people think that pulling up the lever is just luck.
But the old gambler knew that with each silent turn,

Everyone's holding back a jackpot that's destined to explode.

—Si Ming's Notes on Lies
(End of this chapter)