Jenson's POV

I’d seen this trick before. I lived through it in my past life.

“Jenson! Please, help me! I don’t want to lose my hand!” My mother sobbed uncontrollably as they dragged her forward.

I stared at her, then at Cecilia. “Why, Cecilia? Why would you do this?”

I wanted to know what she had done to me for Martin to know every card in my hand.

I needed to find it out.

She shrugged, calm as ever, and replied, “What could I possibly do? You simply weren’t good enough. The man I want has to be a winner, and you’re not anymore. I had to think about my future, you know.”

As soon as she said that, Martin wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “Babe, tonight, I’ll make you feel like you’re in heaven.”

Then he turned to me with a smirk. “Alright, let’s keep going. Let’s see if you’ve got the guts to follow through.”

I looked at the cards in my hand, and there was no doubt; he knew what I was holding.

So I leaned back in my chair instead of calling, then scanned the room.

I suspected the obstruction behind me. Maybe it had a hidden camera. And Martin’s glasses were probably linked to it somehow.

If Cecilia hadn’t tampered with me directly, then that was the only explanation that made sense.

“I have one condition,” I said slowly. “Clear out everything behind me. I need to make sure you’re not spying on my hand through some hidden camera.”

As I said that, the room went still.

Even Martin’s smug expression faltered. Then the others around us nodded, murmuring in agreement.

But he only scoffed, “Someone’s been watching too many movies.”

“Believe what you want,” I said coolly. “But I’m not playing unless it’s cleared.”

“Fine,” he said after a beat, turning to the staff. “Move everything behind him.”

The staff did as he asked, clearing out the clutter behind my seat.

After that, he asked, “All set, Jenson. Can we start now?”

Only then did I nod and even requested, “Change the game. We’re playing Texas Hold’em.”

Martin agreed without hesitation. No matter what I chose, he acted like he already owned the outcome.

And so, the dealer started dealing.

I got a 7 and a Jack, and the latter was my hidden card. Martin’s visible card was a 3, while his hidden card remained unknown.

I had the higher hand, so I got to place the first bet.

“One million,” I said, pushing my chips forward.

Martin smiled and nudged Cecilia. “Babe, do me a favor. Push the chips in.”

She giggled and sat up, casually shoving his bet forward.

The dealer dealt the next round.

I got an 8, and Martin’s visible card was another 3.

“Looks like Martin’s gonna win this one again,” someone in the crowd muttered.

“Three million,” Cecilia said sweetly, raising the bet for the man in her lap.

She thought I would back down.

But I firmly said, “Call,” and pushed in my chips.

This time, there were no cameras behind me. If he still won, it would mean he was simply better. But I didn’t buy it.

“Still playing tough, huh? You think you’re the King of Gambling again?”

“Keep going like this and you’ll lose everything you’ve got left.”

Despite the jeers, I stayed calm and focused only on the game.

The next round, I got a 9 and Martin’s was Ace.

“Still the biggest hand on the table. Jenson’s getting crushed,” someone commented.

“Five million!” he announced, grinning.

“You still daring enough to call?” he taunted, gently nudging Cecilia off his lap like she was a prop he no longer needed.

I looked up and locked eyes with him, slowly twisting the ring on my finger.

“Call,” I said coldly.

This wasn’t just a card game. It was a battle of minds.

“He’s really going all the way?”

“Guy doesn’t know when to quit.”

“Like he has a choice. If he folds, his mother loses a hand.”

Martin lit a cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke.

“Final round,” he said to the dealer.

The last cards were drawn, and I got a 10, while Martin’s was another 3.

At that, the tension in the room exploded, and even the air seemed to hold its breath.

Jenson's POV

At that time, all eyes were locked on us, wide and unblinking. Everyone was waiting for us to reveal our final cards.

“You’ve got the highest card,” the dealer said to me. “You show first.”

Martin lounged back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, pulling Cecilia back onto his lap again.

“Babe,” he said lazily, “ever tried smoking?”

“Yeah,” she giggled.

He handed her a cigarette, and the two of them lit up. They whispered something to each other, which made her cheeks flush red, but I had no idea what it was.

Not wanting to see another second of that disgusting display, I shoved all my chips forward and said, “Call it or fold.”

“Call,” Cecilia said with a smirk. “Oh, and while we’re at it, sign this too.”

She slapped a divorce agreement down in front of me.

“Set me free, Jenson. A man like you doesn’t deserve someone like me.”

“Cecilia, you’re rotten to the core!” my mother’s voice rang out, sharp and furious. “My son treated you like a queen from the moment you stepped into our home. He gave you everything. Loved you. Protected you. And this is how you repay him? By crawling into bed with another man and destroying his life? You’re shameless!”

But before I could react, Cecilia stormed forward and slapped my mother across the face hard. Then came a punch to her side.

Seeing that, I bolted up, rage surging through me, but Martin’s men blocked my path.

“Cecilia! That’s enough!” I shouted. “Let my mother go! You want a divorce? Fine, I’ll give it to you!”

I turned back to the table, and Martin tossed a pen at my face.

I caught it and, without saying a word, signed the damn paper.

“You really think you’ve already won?” I said coldly. “Don’t come crawling back when it’s too late, Cecilia.”

Because I was holding a trump card that would crush his lousy set of threes.

“Oh, please. The only one crawling will be you,” she snapped.

Fine. If that was how they wanted to play it, I'd make sure she'd never get the chance to come back.

“Mom, just hang in there. I’m going to get you out of this,” I said, taking my seat again and meeting Martin’s eyes with pure defiance.

“Show your hand first,” he said.

To speed things up, I flipped over my final card.

“Jack. Straight flush. Martin, you're finished.”

For a moment, the room went completely silent.

Then, laughter exploded.

“HAHAHAHA! You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“That’s a King, not a Jack! The guy’s lost his damn mind!”

“Dude must’ve snapped from losing too much.”

"Maybe he did lose!" Cecilia sneered as she walked up to my mother, twirling a dagger in front of her face with arrogant flair. “Well, old hag, what now? Your precious son, Jenson, just lost! According to the rules of the bet, that means we cut off your hand!”

“Aaaah! No! Please don’t cut off my hand! Son, help me! Please!” my mother begged, extremely scared and panicking.

I blinked, and looked down at my cards again.

This wasn’t right.

It was supposed to be a Jack. Why did it suddenly become a King?

Cold sweat dripped down my back. My heart pounded in disbelief.

Was this really happening?

Had I come back from the dead only to live out the same nightmare all over again?

My so-called title of “King of Gambling” was already in pieces. And the looks from the crowd, once filled with admiration, were now full of pity and disgust.

“Jenson, you've lost. You seriously thought you could have a straight flush with a K?? What a joke.”

Then my mother’s scream shattered through the chaos. “AHHHHH!”

I spun around just in time to see her hand severed.

Cecilia then picked up the severed hand like it was trash and tossed it at my feet.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said mockingly. “Here, take it. It’s all yours.”

She even had the nerve to pretend to look heartbroken.

My hands trembled as I clenched my fists. Rage boiled inside me, shaking me to the core.

But again, they blocked me, keeping me from reaching my mother.

“Jenson,” Martin said, calm as ever, “if you want to save her, then show up tomorrow on time. Next time, it won’t just be a hand. It’ll be a corpse.”

Jenson's POV

As such, Martin strutted out of the casino with Cecilia in his arms, cocky and untouchable. The crowd even parted like the Red Sea for the two of them, shouting his new title: “King of Gambling!”

I, on the other hand, was pelted with rotten eggs and stones by people who once called themselves my fans. Once they were done, I left the casino in total disgrace.

Out on the street, every public screen flashed with news of the birth of a “new gambling legend.” Martin sat there during his flashy interview, smug and clean-cut. When asked about me, he sneered, “Maybe the guy used cheap tricks to earn his fame before. Who knows?”

I didn’t stick around to watch.

I wandered like a ghost with no home, broken and lost. I didn’t even know if I could win tomorrow’s match because everything about this felt so strange, so wrong.

The weight of failure sat on my chest like an invisible hand, choking the breath from me.

What now? What the hell do I do?

At this moment, hopelessness consumed me.

I didn’t even realize I had walked all the way to a shrine. But the moment I heard the chanting of scriptures, my restless heart started to quiet down.

Then the occultist opened his eyes and looked straight at me, deep and knowing.

I ended up staying there the whole night.

By morning, I left and headed for the next game.

On the way, Martin called me.

The moment I picked up, I heard Cecilia’s breathy moans through the line.

“Jenson,” Martin taunted, “Don’t forget to show up on time. Your wife tastes amazing. She’s a real beast in bed, you know?”

Quickly after hearing that, I hung up and let out a slow, cruel laugh.

Martin. Cecilia. This time, you were both going to pay. And it’d cost you more than you could imagine.

When I arrived at the casino, everyone was already there. All that was missing was me.

“Jenson, do you even have money left to bet?” someone asked, mocking, and tossed a few copper coins at me like I was a beggar. “Bark like a dog for us, you broke loser!”

Despite that, I said nothing and just stared coldly at them, unmoved.

But all I got was more insult.

“Still acting proud? Look at you. You’re a mess!”

“He probably can’t even afford those coins.”

Still, I walked straight to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

Then, I calmly placed my last pile of cash on the table.

Seeing that, Martin snorted, “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got left?”

“Not quite,” I said. “I’ve also got… my life.”

I placed a gun on the table, and gasps rippled through the room.

“Damn! This just got real. He’s playing for blood now!”

“Quiet! This is the final showdown. Let’s see how it ends.”

Hearing the excitement around, Martin grinned. “Jenson, this time, you're dead.”

He waved for Cecilia to move and take a seat to the side.

“Perfect. That’s just how I wanted it,” he said while smugly looking at me.

Humiliating me and dragging me off the throne and into the mud had always been Martin’s dream.

“Let’s begin, then.”

“Wait,” I said calmly. “To make this fair, I brought someone.”

That was when Rolf Gardner, the wealthiest man in the capital, walked in.

He owed the shrine's occultist a favor. And to repay it, he agreed to do me a solid. And that was to make sure Martin couldn’t cheat or run from the result.

With Rolf in the room, all the noise and taunts died down instantly.

“Let’s start,” the dealer announced.

The game began, and my face-up card was a Queen. As for my hole card, I didn’t look at it yet. Martin’s visible card, on the other hand, was a 10.

“Two million,” I said coolly, pushing the chips forward.

Martin narrowed his eyes, studying me. Then silently matched the bet.

The dealer revealed the second round of cards, and everyone's eyes were focused on the game.

This time, I got a 4, while Martin pulled a King.

“Three million,” I said.

“Call,” he replied.

On the third card, I drew a 5, and he got a Jack.

His hand was clearly aiming for a straight flush. Anyone watching could tell he was in a stronger position. As such, people around the room were already shaking their heads in disappointment at me.

“Heh,” Martin sneered. “Even the heavens have turned their back on you, Jenson.”

Then he shoved all his chips to the center of the table. “All in. If you lose this one, you lose everything. And then… you die.”

“So?” he smirked. “You in?”

Just then, Martin ordered someone to bring my mother forward and return her to me.

To him, it didn’t matter anymore. He had already accomplished what he wanted. My life was already on the table.

“Don’t say I’m heartless,” he said with a smirk. “See? I gave your old mother back. Now tell me, Jenson, you got the guts to go all in?”

Without hesitation, I shoved all my chips into the center and firmly said, “Call.”

I could hear people in the crowd snickering, mocking me. But I didn’t care.

Then the dealer dealt the final cards.

Mine was the Ace of Hearts, and Martin’s was the Ace of Spades.

“You’ve got no chips left,” he said, eyebrows raised. “You really gonna bet your life now?”

“All the way,” I said.

“He’s insane. Who bets everything with those cards?”

“Maybe his hole card’s a Queen.”

“Pfft. He already screwed up once. He wants a second beating?”

“From the look on Martin’s face, his card might be a Queen too.”

Martin then suddenly stood up, cocky as ever, and started dancing some ridiculous victory dance he made up, acting like he’d already won.

“I’ve got the highest hand,” he declared. “So I’ll reveal first.”

He slapped his hole card down and laughed, “A Queen! You're done for, Jenson! Game over!”

The card flipped with a snap, and everyone leaned in.

Then their eyes widened in confusion.