Inside the transparent glass dome, the three dice bounced wildly like mischievous little spirits. No one could predict the outcome.
A few seconds later, the dice gradually came to a stop.
The result was: 5, 3, and 2. A total of 10.
Small—again.
Luke won once more.
"Hmph, just a lucky dwarf."
Luke heard the two players across from him snort in irritation. They had missed it by just one point—just one—and it was still "Small." In their eyes, Luke had simply gotten lucky.
Before the next round began, the white muscular man among the three players bared his teeth and sneered at Luke.
"Lady Luck won't favor you again, dwarf."
Clearly, he didn't believe Luke could keep winning.
Luke showed no reaction. Beneath the Iron Man mask was a completely childish face, his lips curling slightly in disdain.
This round, the muscular man placed a heavy bet—five gold chips.
Each gold chip represented $1,000.
He bet on Big.
In his view, after so many consecutive "Small" results, the probability of "Big" appearing next was extremely high.
Luke still bet on Small.
The other two players, thinking the same way as the muscular man, also placed their bets on Big. Seeing Luke stubbornly stick with "Small," all three of them smirked, convinced he was just an amateur waiting to lose.
"Place your bets. No more changes," the dealer announced.
The dice began to jump again.
A few seconds later, the three players who had bet on "Big"—including the muscular man—stared in disbelief, their expressions as if they had just swallowed flies.
The result was Small again: 1, 1, and 2.
Absurdly small.
The dealer pushed a pile of chips—more than a dozen—toward Luke.
Luke accepted them with a smile.
Through the mask, his eyes glanced coldly at the muscular man as he let out a low, hoarse chuckle.
"Sorry. Looks like my luck really is good tonight."
"Damn dwarf," the muscular man gritted his teeth.
"F**k you!" Rost muttered from Luke's shoulder, still pretending to be a decorative prop.
The muscular man's gaze turned sharp and dangerous. Since the voice came from Luke's direction, he naturally assumed Luke had said it.
Over the next few rounds, Luke fully demonstrated what it meant to be blessed by outrageous luck.
He bet "Small" three more times, then "Big" once.
Four bets. Four wins.
Even the dealer couldn't hide his shock anymore.
Winning like this—round after round—was extremely rare.
But neither the dealer nor the gamblers around the table realized yet—
This was only the beginning.
As Luke kept winning, more and more people began gathering around the Sic Bo table.
With every correct call Luke made, the crowd erupted into gasps and disbelief.
Luke placed another bet on Small.
It had already landed on "Small" seven consecutive times. To everyone else, the probability of it happening again was almost nonexistent.
So naturally, the surrounding players all bet on Big.
By now, there were no longer just three players at the table.
More than a dozen gamblers had joined in.
Yet strangely, their attention wasn't on their own bets anymore.
Winning or losing no longer mattered.
They just wanted to see—
Would Luke keep winning?
"Place your bets. No more changes," the dealer said, forcing a stiff smile.
The dice began to bounce again.
Everyone stared at them without blinking.
Some people even held their breath.
As the dice slowed to a stop, the air around the table seemed to freeze.
Then—
"WHOA—!"
A wave of shocked cries erupted.
Small. Again.
Luke had called it correctly once more.
"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Several white and Black gamblers shook their heads in disbelief.
From a probability standpoint, this outcome should have been nearly impossible.
Eight consecutive "Small" results.
That was harder than hitting the jackpot.
Some gamblers began questioning whether the machine was broken.
After checking, the dealer confirmed there was nothing wrong.
Still, under pressure from the crowd, the casino replaced the dice dome with a brand-new one.
It didn't matter.
Luke kept winning.
The crowd grew thicker and thicker, packing the area until it was nearly impossible to move.
Even with the new equipment, Luke remained undefeated.
Gasps turned into cheers.
Cheers turned into waves of excitement.
More and more gamblers rushed over, drawn into this unbelievable spectacle.
Then—
Luke pushed a large stack of chips forward.
All in.
On Big.
After a brief pause, he let go.
After five more consecutive "Small" results, even Luke felt the probability of another "Small" was too low.
So he switched.
The result came quickly.
6, 5, 6.
Extremely high—just one point short of a dealer sweep.
And yet—
Luke still won.
Watching Luke win again and again, some veteran gamblers looked as if they had witnessed a miracle.
"Oh my God! Oh my God!" they kept shouting.
The table was filled with men shouting and women screaming.
In less than half an hour, a mountain of multicolored chips had piled up in front of Luke.
Behind him, a massive crowd had gathered—tattooed men, drunk gamblers, all of them.
They had become his fans.
Tonight—
The God of Gambling had descended upon Hell's Kitchen.
And tonight—
The place was destined to erupt.
At some point, everyone at the table began following Luke's bets.
They had learned their lesson.
Luke bet Big—they bet Big.
Luke bet Small—they bet Small.
No hesitation.
After a few more rounds, the dealer began sweating profusely.
Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
Sic Bo, by design, favored the house.
Totals of 3 and 18 meant automatic wins for the dealer.
Triples meant the dealer took everything.
In theory, the house should always profit.
But tonight—
Something was wrong.
In all his years working in casinos, the dealer had never seen anything like this.
Now, every time Luke placed a bet, his heart trembled.
Seeing everyone follow Luke, the dealer was at a complete loss.
At this rate—
How could the casino possibly survive?
Wiping his sweat, he discreetly pressed a button beneath the table, signaling for help from above.
The game continued.
By now, nearly half the casino had gathered around this one table.
By tomorrow morning, what happened here tonight would spread across all of Hell's Kitchen—
A legend in the making.
Then—
Luke made a new move.
He bet on triples.
If he won, the payout would be 150 to 1.
This time, he placed $1,000 worth of chips.
That meant—
If he won, the casino would have to pay him $150,000.
And that didn't even include the other players.
The dealer looked like he was about to cry.