Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 455 Million-Dollar Illusion: The Gambler's Sieve
"The terror of pseudo-randomness lies not in its disorder,
But its strength lies in its long silence.

It makes it impossible for you to distinguish between emptiness and a grand prize.

—From *The Gambler's Scroll: Pseudo-Random*

Charlotte, seated on the golden chair, resembled a fairytale illustration. Her pink tulle skirt billowed out, her slender fingers lightly touching her lips, her voice sweet and clear:
"In this graveyard, there is only one machine capable of turning the tables, and it requires 100,000 chips to pay out a million-dollar prize."

You two, one with only 50,000 and the other with just over 20,000, are not qualified.

She smiled radiantly, as if announcing a script that had already been written.

The hall fell silent for a moment.

The silence was broken by a cold snort.

Carlos exhaled billowing smoke, the firelight reflecting off his scarred face, his smile brutal and cruel:
"Charlotte, I've been to more battlefields than you've worn dresses."

Those who laugh too soon often suffer the most.

Riddle replied coldly, "The answer is only at the last minute. Until then, you're just a madman singing fairy tales."

Huck snorted and shook his thick palm, the chip bag jingling heavily in his hand.

"Games are never something you can decide with just a few words."

I've seen too many gamblers who think they've got it all after winning a small prize, only to end up bankrupt.

You're nothing but a gambler in a crown.

As soon as he finished speaking, the atmosphere in the room tensed up again, like the smell of gunpowder spreading.

Charlotte's smile remained sweet, but a hint of impatience flashed in her eyes.

“…boring.”

Carlos flicked his cigar hard onto the ground, sparks flying across the stone slab.

“Come on, Riddle. Don’t listen to this little girl singing fairy tales here.”

Hark turned around, his large back swaying, and whispered to Siming, "Let's go find that million-dollar machine. Even if we're not qualified, we'll gamble our lives to the very end."

Si Ming adjusted his glasses, smiled slightly, and took a light step forward.

The group left together, leaving Charlotte still sitting on the golden chair, her smile sweet, as if she were looking at a group of pitiful wretches about to go bankrupt.

The lights in the hall flickered, and five hundred slot machines roared incessantly.

In this steel maze, Si Ming and Ha Ke traversed side by side.

"Clap-pop-pop-"

Chips were inserted into the machine, levers were pressed down repeatedly, rollers spun, and fruits and numbers flashed by.

Hack, drenched in sweat and gritting his teeth, said, "Damn it! This one won't do, next one!"

Si Ming calmly made a mark on his notebook: "Small prize machine, eliminated."

The two moved extremely quickly, as if casting a net to catch prey.

Rows of machines were lit up, and then rows of machines quickly fell silent.

However, a real crisis is quietly approaching.

They soon discovered:

The feedback from the jackpot machine and the empty machine is almost identical.

After dozens of consecutive pulls, there was no result.

This applies to machines with no prizes. It also applies to machines with big prizes.

Harker cursed under his breath, his voice hoarse: "We... might have already cast it before."

He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his eyes filled with anxiety: "Damn it, it's no different from a junk machine! Who knows if it's that million-dollar machine?!"

Si Ming pushed up his glasses, revealing a cold light behind the lenses.

"That's what makes it so terrifying."

He said in a low voice, "It's hidden too well. Gambler's experience can only rule out small prizes and fake machines... but the big prize machine will only pretend to be a junk machine before the threshold is reached."

As soon as the words were spoken, the giant screen in the center of the hall flickered, and red numbers jumped:
Time remaining: 6 hours and 21 minutes.

Nearly four hours have passed.

Hack's face instantly turned ashen.

"Six hours... to hell with it! Five hundred machines, and fewer and fewer are left, but we have absolutely no chance of success!"

Si Ming was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled and said, "When a gambler is not sure, he should increase his bet."

Huck suddenly looked up.

The voice of the God of Fate was indifferent, yet sharp as a knife:

"You go to the left, I'll go to the right. One person per row. Low-stakes, crazy betting, mark all the ones that can be eliminated first."

Hack hesitated for half a second, then gritted his teeth and said, "I'll risk it!"

The two split up and launched their attacks separately.

Their figures weaved through the maze of slot machines, the clatter of chips and the roar of reels intertwining like a symphony of despair.

The time displayed on the screen jumped coldly, like a slowly falling knife.

The roar of the slot machine maze was like rolling iron waves. With hundreds of levers rising and falling, chips were swallowed up, spat out, and swallowed up again.

Siming and Hak frantically checked, silently eliminating possibilities in their minds as they passed each row of machines. Just then, heavy footsteps approached.

Riddle walked over.

He was tall and gloomy, his face stiffened by suppressed anger, his eyes fixed on Charlotte in the distance.

“Riddle?” Hack stopped what he was doing and squinted.

"Are you here to cause trouble, or to cooperate?"

Riddle chuckled coldly, his voice deep and icy: "Cooperation."

He paused, then added, "I represent Carlos."

Harker's expression changed slightly: "Carlos is actually willing to join forces with us?"

Riddle gritted his teeth, his gaze never leaving Charlotte, his voice sounding like it was being squeezed from the depths of his throat:
“He wants to win, and I want revenge. As long as Charlotte kneels down, I don’t care who takes the headship of the family in the end.”

The air suddenly became quiet.

Si Ming adjusted his glasses and slowly said, "A gambler seeking revenge will not betray his own obsession."

Hack snorted coldly, but ultimately did not refuse: "Alright, let's cooperate for now."

So the four of them split up to investigate.

Low-amount coin insertion, lever pulling, recording, elimination—the process is faster and more ruthless than before.

As time went by, hundreds of machines were abandoned one by one, like withered bones on a wasteland.

Finally, they stopped walking at the same time.

In the central area, four ordinary-looking fruit machines stood quietly.

The gray paint was peeling off, the tie rod was worn, and it was no different from the other obsolete machines around it.

But all four of them knew in their hearts:

The million-dollar prize is hidden here.

Hack was covered in cold sweat, his voice rough: "Three platforms are the abyss, one platform is heaven."

Si Ming narrowed his eyes, a cold glint in his glasses: "It's time to place your bet."

Riddle, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms, muttered under his breath:
"Charlotte... no matter who wins, I will personally make you pay for your crimes in blood."

Whispers of revenge, like spells in the shadows, lingered amidst the roar of the machines.

The four fruit machines in the central area stood quietly, like four silent judges.

Si Ming, Hak, and Riddle exchanged a glance, knowing in their hearts: this was the final target.

Just then, a burst of light applause came from the high platform.

"Clap clap clap."

Charlotte leaned back in the golden chair, legs crossed, pink tulle skirt draped down, her sweet smile like poison wrapped in sugar.

"Congratulations, you've finally narrowed down the search."

She pointed to the large screen, where the numbers flashed coldly:

Charlotte: 104,000
Hack: 30,200
Carlos: 10,500
She tilted her head with a smile: "Thirty thousand and ten thousand? Heh, you don't even qualify for the million-dollar prize. Forget about finding out which machine is real, even if you guessed correctly, you can't afford the threshold."

Hack's face instantly turned ashen, and veins bulged on his forehead.

Carlos coldly exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes like sparks from a gun barrel.

Charlotte stretched out her slender fingers, twirling a delicate little knife, her voice light and cheerful, like reciting a fairy tale:

"Besides, it's a battle for succession... Even if someone wins, do you think he'll leave the others behind?"

Her gaze swept over Hark and Carlos like a dagger, her tone sweet, yet every word was like a poisonous needle:
"Hark, if you win, will you keep Carlos by your side? He has weapons and power, can you tolerate him?"

“Carlos, if you win, will you let Hark go? That fat man runs the casinos behind the scenes, his name is everywhere. He's a threat as long as he's alive.”

Charlotte chuckled softly: "The rules of the game are: the winner takes all. The loser doesn't just lose all their chips, they lose everything."

You will all eventually devour each other.

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly froze.

Hack's face was grim, and his breathing was rapid.

Carlos's eyes were bloodshot, and his knuckles made a "crackling" sound as he pressed his cigar.

Si Ming pushed up his glasses, his gaze calm, but he couldn't help but smile bitterly to himself.

Charlotte's words were not a lie.

In this battle for succession, no one can truly form an alliance.

Ultimately, only one will remain.

Charlotte leaned down, her voice soft and seductive: "So... let's continue. Let me see when you two will tear each other's throats apart first."

Her cloying laughter echoed in the hall, like a morbid lullaby, weighing heavily on everyone's hearts.

"Of the remaining four machines, three are the Abyss and one is Heaven."

Chips are like feathers; they can fall with just one gust of wind.

—From *The Gambler's Last Will and Testament, Volume Three: The Possibility of Betrayal and Lies*

(End of this chapter)