2025-05-06 23:40:04
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Chapter 220: The Price of Victory
Two days.It had been two days since Peter had left the hospital.The doctors told him to rest, to recover — to take it easy.But how do you take it easy after gambling your sanity across shattered timelines?How do you sleep when you’ve lost track of which version of yourself crawled out alive?Peter stood now at the edge of the Monte Carlo Academy’s east plaza — the same place where it had all started. Where the gates loomed tall and gilded, where students once brushed past him without a second glance. Back when he was just another debt-ridden nobody in a wrinkled suit and scuffed shoes.Now, they all turned to look.Eyes followed him. Voices lowered. The air itself seemed to ripple around him.> “That’s him.”“Peter Donovan.”“The kid who beat Naomi.”“Survived Viktor.”“Bet his soul, they say.”“Didn’t he die? Twice?”“Is it true he rewrote the rules?”“Who is he?”Peter didn’t flinch.He didn’t slow.He kept his gaze forward, shoulders squared, posture unshakable — like he hadn’t
Chapter 119: Ghosts in the Static
Darkness.It wasn’t peaceful.It wasn’t quiet.It wasn’t rest.It was static.Peter floated, not in a dream, but in a screaming void of white noise and glitching memory. A limbo that pulsed like a corrupted signal, a space between versions of himself. Between decisions. Between timelines. Time didn’t flow here. It spiraled. Rewound. Fractured.His body had shut down.But his mind hadn’t followed.Inside that rift, his consciousness unraveled like a film reel melting in a broken projector. Reality blinked in slivers—memories, possibilities, hallucinations. He saw versions of his life playing out in contradiction:Naomi, not as the bitter opponent on stage, but as she once was—her lips stained with hot chocolate, her laughter bubbling in winter air, untamed and genuine. A time before pain rewrote her smile.Logan, staring down at him across the final table—not with judgment, but the quiet kind of sorrow reserved for watching someone you respect destroy themselves.His mother, skeletal u
Chapter 118b – “Second Chance”
The game continued, a quiet ritual of motion and memory. The soft rustle of card flips, the occasional muttered curse, and the rhythmic patter of fingertips brushing cardboard. The grid on the table had thinned — only six cards left. Three pairs. It was the final stretch.Ace reached across the table with a lazy grin, flipping over a card. 4 of Spades.Peter followed, matching it with a 4 of Spades just to his right. A match.“That’s mine,” Peter muttered.Chloe narrowed her eyes but said nothing, flipping two cards that didn’t match — a Queen and a 9. She sighed and leaned back. “Your turn.”Ace rubbed his hands together. “Man, this is freaking mind-blowing. You’re like Kronos but with playing cards — the god of time, Peter! Like, do you rewind five minutes? Five hours? How the hell does that even work?”Peter smiled — not with amusement, but with the worn-out expression of someone carrying too much. His eyes, still heavy with lingering fatigue, didn’t quite meet theirs.“If you win…
Chapter 117 – The Hangover of Time
Peter’s silence hung heavy in the room. Ace’s expression shifted from confusion to discomfort. Chloe didn’t blink. She couldn’t. Not when her mind was racing faster than it ever had in a game. He didn’t say a number. He didn’t say anything. And that was what scared her. It wasn’t denial. It wasn’t confirmation. It was grief. She finally exhaled, as if she’d been holding her breath since the question left her lips. “It wasn’t once… was it?” she said softly. “It wasn’t even twice.” Still no response. Peter’s hand tightened around the apple he’d been holding this entire time. The same one Ace had tossed to him like a joke. It had a bruise now, right at the top. A soft dent. Fragile. Like time. “Peter…” Chloe continued, her voice almost pleading, “what you’re talking about… it’s not a strategy. It’s a curse.” Peter blinked slowly. “I know.” Ace finally stood up, pacing. “Okay, hold up—hold up. Can we just backtrack here? You’re both acting like we’ve just uncovered the goddamn A
Chapter 116 – The Theory of Gifts
“So Ace,” Peter said as he flipped a card—9 of Diamonds—and scanned the grid for its match, “you said your superpower is luck?”“Yeah, you bet,” Ace grinned, wiggling his eyebrows like he’d just revealed a deep cosmic truth.“I wouldn’t go as far as to call it a superpower,” Chloe muttered under her breath as she leaned over and flipped her card. 9 of Clubs. “Match,” she said flatly, collecting the pair.“Don’t mind her,” Ace said with a shrug. “She’s just a hater.”“Forgive me,” Chloe fired back, “for not indulging your delusional fantasy.”Peter chuckled as he stared at the board, his fingers hovering over two cards. “It’s not a fantasy if it’s true,” Ace added with faux gravity.The twins launched into their familiar rhythm of bickering. Peter let it play out like background music, only half-listening—until he asked:“And you, Chloe? What’s yours?”She looked up from the board, blinking. “Pardon?”“Your gambling superpower. What is it?”Chloe stared at him like he’d just asked her
Chapter 115 — After the Storm
Peter’s eyelids fluttered open to white ceilings and harsh fluorescent light.Where the hell am I? he thought groggily, blinking against the sterile blur of the hospital ceiling.The smell of antiseptic hit his nose. Beeping monitors hummed quietly in the background. Pain pulsed faintly through his limbs, but it wasn’t unbearable—just enough to remind him he was still alive.University hospital…?He slowly turned his head to the left and caught sight of two figures stepping out through the door. The guy had an apple in one hand, the girl a chess board tucked under her arm. The sight was oddly familiar. The names came to his lips before his brain had fully caught up.“Ace…?”Both figures froze mid-step. Then they turned.It was them—Ace, with his signature lazy grin, and Chloe, with that ever-calculating glint in her eyes.“Oh my lucky duck, Peter! You’re alive!” Ace beamed, tossing the apple into the air and rushing over.Chloe’s expression was a mixture of smug satisfaction and… genu
Chapter 114 – No Gods, No Masters
The world stopped.The air was sucked out of the room.Even Naomi, for the first time in the entire game… blinked.The audience didn’t just react.They exploded.Voices collided like clashing cymbals. The walls seemed to shake beneath the sheer chaos of disbelief, confusion, and morbid excitement.“WHAT DID HE JUST SAY?!”“Is he—did he also just try to SELL HIS LIFE?!”“This guy’s actually gone insane—completely off the rails!”“What kind of game is this?! What kind of school allows this?”"What the fuck?!”“He’s insane!”“He’s matching Naomi’s move?! Is this a joke?!”“He’s going to put his life on the line too?!”Even the dealer hesitated, unsure if she should intervene.But the rules… the twisted, convoluted rules of Monte Carlo allowed such madness. As long as the party involved was of sound mind and legally of age — a person could offer anything they deemed fair value.Even their own soul.Gasps overlapped like crashing waves. One spectator dropped their drink. Another clutched t
Chapter 113 – The Final Gamble
Logan felt the world spin.Not figuratively.Literally.His vision doubled for a split second, the noise around him warped, like sound itself was trembling under the weight of what had just happened.One thousand chips.Naomi had placed an absurd, unimaginable bet — not just of money, but of soul. Of years. Of herself.And now… Peter had to respond.---Logan’s heart pounded as he looked toward Peter.This wasn’t his gamble. He had no stake in this beyond choice. And yet, he’d thrown in nearly everything he had.Why?Why the hell did I go this far?By every logical measure, this was madness. Logan knew it. This wasn’t chess. This wasn’t war. This was something else.This was Peter Donovan.A guy who, by all accounts, shouldn’t even be here. He wasn’t the strongest, he wasn’t the richest, and he definitely wasn’t the most skilled. And yet…Logan clenched his fists, staring at Peter like the answer might be written on his skin.---And that’s when he saw it.Peter was shaking.Subtle at
Chapter 112 – Chip by Chip, Flame by Flame
“We will now resume the game,” the dealer announced, her voice slicing cleanly through the electric hush of the hall.She shuffled once, twice—cards flipping and snapping like knives through silence. Then, with precise hands and a blank expression, she dealt five cards to each player.A beat passed.Then another.Peter reached for his cards. So did Naomi.They lifted them simultaneously.And as they did, Logan leaned forward in his seat.He saw it.Not in the cards.Not in the chips.In Peter.Sweat glistened faintly on Peter’s brow. His chest rose and fell faster than it should. His hand trembled—just once, barely noticeable. A shallow inhale, a twitch at the edge of his eye. It wasn’t visible to most, but Logan had seen it before.“Will you redraw?” the dealer asked, her tone professional.“Two cards, please,” Naomi replied, sliding forward the 5 of Hearts and 2 of Diamonds. Her face was relaxed. Almost lazy. Like none of this mattered.Peter looked at his hand. Quietly.And smiled.
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