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Chapter 134 – The Storm Walk
Peter stepped out of the limousine like a man waking from a coma.His foot hit the pavement with no ceremony, just weight. Heavy, human, fallible. The door shut behind him with a mechanical thud—a sound too final for comfort.He didn’t look back.He couldn’t.Not at the car.Not at the Chancellor.Not at the gates of Monte Carlo Gambling University glowing behind him like a monument he’d been exiled from.His knees trembled beneath him, faintly, like rusted hinges. His lungs ached with shallow breaths. His eyes, dry and burning, refused to blink.The world tilted slightly.But he didn’t fall.He just… walked.One step.Then another.The road ahead was long, cracked, and unlit.The kind of path you only notice when the fire is out and the applause is gone.The kind of path you walk alone.Somewhere above, clouds rolled in—fat and mean. The kind that had no grace to offer, only thunder.And still, Peter walked.He didn’t pull his coat tighter. Didn’t check his phone. Didn’t wonder if an
Chapter 134: Clicked into place again
---- --- The pieces clicked into place again. Peter looked down at the reset board and for the first time since the limo ride began, he tried something unorthodox. Knight to f3. The Chancellor raised a brow slightly—barely perceptible, but just enough to register. Pawn to d5. Peter hesitated. That was new. The Chancellor was adjusting. Not using the same opening sequence. Peter adjusted in turn. Knight to c3. Pawn takes pawn. Peter exhaled slowly. He was still in it. Longer than any previous round. Move four. He decided to develop his bishop—bishop to c4. The Chancellor took one second to scan the board, then moved queen to d6. The tempo was off. Peter felt it—not a sense of control, but a slow detachment from helplessness. His mind was grinding through possibilities, half a second behind, always half a step from insight. Move five. Peter castled. It was sloppy. Defensive. But necessary. The Chancellor didn’t respond. His hand hovered for a moment, as if to draw o
Chapter 132– Four-Move Death
Peter stared at the board. The wood was old. Too old. Older than it had any right to be. Each square looked hand-carved, oiled with time and sweat. The pieces were bone-white and obsidian-black—polished, weighted just enough to feel like power in your fingers. A gambler’s board. Peter looked up. The Chancellor was already reclined, fingers laced under his chin. “Come now,” he said. “I don’t have forever.” Peter swallowed. He reached out, moved his pawn to e4. The Chancellor responded instantly. E5. Peter followed with Knight to f3. Chancellor smirked. Knight to c6. Peter blinked. He was just trying to play classically. Get into the rhythm. Maybe feel the man out. But something about the Chancellor’s speed was unsettling. Then Peter moved his Bishop to c4. “Interesting,” the Chancellor murmured. And then he moved his own Queen to h4. Peter froze. No… No, that couldn’t be— “Your move,” the Chancellor said. Peter glanced down again, his brain stuttering, crawling to proc
CHAPTER 131: The Chancellor’s Gambit
The door of the limousine opened with a hiss, revealing a cabin so long and polished it could’ve doubled as a hallway in a private jet. Rich mahogany panels lined the interior walls, dim golden light reflecting off their smooth finish. Plush leather seats wrapped around the sides like a private amphitheater—silent, reverent, and far too expensive for comfort. At the center, nestled between two crystal tumblers of aged scotch and a silver tea service, sat a hand-carved ivory chessboard.Peter stepped in cautiously, feeling the air shift the moment the door clicked shut behind him. It wasn’t the coolness of the AC that chilled him.It was presence.Across from him sat the Chancellor of Monte Carlo Gambling University. Not a man. Not even a legend. A force.Immaculately dressed in a bespoke navy suit with a dark satin cravat, the Chancellor moved with a kind of deliberate stillness, his long fingers gliding across the chessboard like he was shaping time itself. His eyes—silver, hawk-like
Chapter 130: The Summons
Peter left the event with heavy boots and a heavier mind. His feet moved automatically, but his thoughts spun like a loaded roulette wheel.Every turn, every bluff, every chip moved in that game between Logan and Viktor replayed behind his eyes in obsessive detail. It was the kind of game that twisted the laws of probability and psychology together — elegant and brutal. But what had he really learned?How do you beat someone who already knows what you're going to do?That was Chloe’s style — clean, clinical, terrifying in its precision. Watching Logan had shown him how data could become a dagger… but Chloe didn’t just use data. She breathed it. She lived in probabilities and slept in equations. There were no wild cards in her deck. No chaos.Peter’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps behind him.“Peter! Wait up!”He turned around. Grant was jogging toward him, panting like he’d just sprinted across campus. His wild brown hair was even messier than usual, cheek
Chapter 129: A sound not used to
Viktor didn’t leave immediately.He stood there, his hand still on the table, head bowed slightly, like a statue caught between rage and disbelief. The applause thundered around him — not for him, but for Logan.It was a sound Viktor wasn’t used to.For years, that applause had been his.Now?Now it felt like a funeral march.Logan stood slowly, collected his cards with practiced grace, and turned away — no grand gesture, no smug expression. Just quiet confidence. It was even more humiliating that way.Viktor raised his head and locked eyes with him one last time. “You think this is over?”Logan paused at the edge of the stage, not bothering to turn back. “No, Viktor. I think you’ve just been reminded that it was never really yours to begin with.”With that, he walked off the stage, leaving Viktor alone in a spotlight that now felt like a noose.Peter watched it all, stunned.He had imagined what it would look like — Viktor losing. But this?This was something else.The ma
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