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Chapter 74: Chapter 74 Poker
Liam walked through the casino floor, his pockets heavy with chips, yet his mind remained sharp and focused. He had already conquered the roulette table, but that was pure mathematics—a predictable game where the system ensured his success.
Poker, however, was different.
This wasn’t a game of pure numbers; it was a game of people. And people were unpredictable.
He stopped at a high-stakes poker table, his cold blue eyes scanning the players. Unlike roulette, where everything depended on the dealer and the wheel, poker was a battle of psychology, skill, and patience.
A dealer in a black vest and white dress shirt sat at the center, dealing cards to four other men. The chips in front of them weren’t small—these were serious gamblers, men who thrived on risk.
Liam pulled out a chair and sat down, placing $27,500 worth of chips in front of him.
One of the men, a stocky guy with a cigar between his fingers, looked at him and smirked.
"You sure you’re in the right place, kid?" he asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "This ain’t a charity table."
Liam didn’t react. He simply nodded to the dealer. "Deal me in."
The other players chuckled, exchanging glances.
The man to Liam’s left, an older gentleman in a tailored gray suit, adjusted his watch and leaned back. "Well, let’s see if you can handle the heat."
Liam remained silent as the dealer shuffled and dealt the first hand.
As the cards landed in front of him, Liam’s system immediately activated.
> Analyzing hand... 72% chance of winning based on probability.
Opponent tendencies: 3 aggressive, 1 passive.
Recommended action: Call.
Liam trusted the system’s advice, playing cautiously at first.
The first few hands went smoothly—he won small pots, increasing his balance to $35,000. The other players didn’t seem to mind—beginners’ luck, they assumed.
On the next hand, Liam received a strong pair—two Queens. The system estimated his win probability at 80%, so he bet aggressively.
But then, the unexpected happened.
The stocky guy with the cigar, who had been silent for most of the game, suddenly pushed all-in, throwing in over $40,000 worth of chips.
Liam’s system hesitated.
> Opponent behavior analysis: Unknown bluffing pattern.
Win probability adjustment: 62%.
Recommended action: Call with caution.
Liam narrowed his eyes. Something felt off.
But he trusted the system and called.
The man flipped over his cards.
Pocket Aces.
A stronger hand than Liam’s.
The table erupted in laughter as the dealer revealed the rest of the cards. The Aces held strong, and Liam lost a massive chunk of his winnings.
His balance dropped to $15,000.
The spectators who had followed him from the roulette table shook their heads.
"Guess his luck ran out."
"Knew it. Roulette is one thing, but poker? Different beast."
"Another rookie who thought he could play with the big boys."
One by one, they walked away, uninterested in watching him crash and burn.
But Liam didn’t care.
He wasn’t here to entertain them.
His next few hands went even worse.
He lost a bluff, dropping down to $10,000.
He misread an opponent’s weakness, bringing him down to $7,000.
His balance kept shrinking, and the players at the table were grinning now, seeing him as fresh meat.
The man in the gray suit chuckled, stacking his winnings. "Still feeling lucky, kid?"
Liam didn’t respond.
Inside, he was frustrated.
The system wasn’t perfect here. It could read probabilities, but it couldn’t predict human emotion, bluffs, or deceptive plays.
This was a real battle.
Just as he was about to hit rock bottom, sitting at only $5,000, the system flashed a different kind of alert.
> Warning: Pattern detected.
Opponent ’Cigar Man’ bluffs aggressively after three consecutive wins.
Opponent ’Gray Suit’ slow plays strong hands.
Recommended action: Bait bluffs, trap slow plays.
Liam’s fingers tightened slightly around his chips.
He had been playing the game wrong.
Poker wasn’t just about the cards.
It was about reading people.
On the next hand, Liam received an average set of cards—Jack and 8 of Spades. The system only gave him a 40% win rate, but something else flashed on the screen.
> Opponent ’Cigar Man’ is bluffing.
Win probability against actual hand: 85%.
Recommended action: Raise aggressively.
Liam’s lips curled slightly under his mask.
He pushed in $5,000.
Cigar Man grinned. "Oh? Got a good hand, huh?"
Liam just stared at him.
The man exhaled a puff of smoke and called.
The dealer flipped the cards—nothing on the board favored either of them.
But Liam knew something the other guy didn’t.
When the last card dropped, the man hesitated for a fraction of a second—just a blink—but it was all Liam needed.
Cigar Man checked, pretending to act strong.
Liam pushed all-in.
The man froze. His confidence wavered.
The entire table watched in silence.
Then, finally—he folded.
Liam pulled his chips back.
His balance jumped back to $18,000.
From that point on, Liam stopped playing blindly.
Instead of relying purely on the system, he combined it with his own observations.
He let Gray Suit trap himself by acting weak.
He let Cigar Man bluff himself into a corner.
Bit by bit, his balance climbed back up.
$25,000...
$30,000...
Then, on one perfectly calculated hand, he made a massive bet against Gray Suit, forcing him into a position where he had no choice but to fold or risk everything.
Gray Suit sighed. "Tch. You’re not as dumb as you look."
Liam didn’t respond.
His balance shot up to $45,000.
The players at the table weren’t grinning anymore.
They were watching him carefully now.
This wasn’t luck.
This was a predator learning to hunt.
By the time the next major round ended, Liam’s balance hovered at $48,000.
Liam walked out of the casino, the cool night air hitting his face as he exhaled slowly. $48,000. That was enough. He could have kept going, but he had pushed his luck far enough for one night.
He wasn’t here to become a casino kingpin. That wasn’t the goal.
This money was just a stepping stone—a way to get himself back on track. A way to build something real.
His thoughts drifted as he walked toward the nearest ATM.
A legit business.
Something that would make him money while he slept. Something that didn’t require gambling, fighting, or constantly looking over his shoulder.
Liam let out a quiet chuckle. "Easier said than done."
Reaching the ATM, he inserted his card and checked his balance. The system had worked flawlessly—the funds had been transferred immediately.
Balance: $48,000.00
He smirked. It felt surreal seeing that amount. Just a few hours ago, he had been broke. Now, he had enough to actually start something meaningful.
For now, he just needed cash in hand.
With a few taps, he withdrew $1,000 and stuffed it into his pocket. It felt good—having actual money in his hands again.
Pocketing his wallet, he hailed a cab and leaned back in the seat as it pulled away.
The cab ride was quiet, with only the occasional sound of the engine humming through the night.
Liam glanced at his wristwatch. 9:40 PM.
His fingers itched to check his phone—he had a feeling Ann might have called or texted—but when he pulled it out, the screen remained dark.
Dead.
Liam sighed, shaking his head. Of course.
At least he was heading home early enough. He didn’t want to walk in at eleven and find Ann asleep on the couch, waiting for him.
As the cab neared his neighborhood, his gaze instinctively flickered toward Lana’s house.
It was silent now.
No chaos.
Thank God.
But his own house?
The complete opposite.
Liam stiffened the moment he stepped out of the cab. Through the front door, he could already hear soft giggles.
No—laughing.
Loud, unfiltered laughter.
He sighed. "What the hell is she up to now?"
With a deep breath, he pushed open the door.
The moment Liam stepped inside, Ann’s laughter hit him full force.
She was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked under her, her laptop propped open on the coffee table. She turned at the sound of the door and beamed at him.
"Oh! Liam, you’re home!"
Liam froze, eyes narrowing.
He had seen that look before.
The way her smile stretched just a little too wide. The way her eyes gleamed mischievously.
Something was going on.
Turning back to the door, he locked it, mumbling under his breath. "...So cringe."
Ann giggled again.
That only made him more suspicious.
His gaze flicked to the laptop screen.
And then—he instantly regretted it.
The screen was split into four.
A video call.
And on the other end?
Four girls.
All staring.
At him.
Silence.
For a split second, nobody spoke. Then—
"Oh. My. God."
One of the girls, a blonde with wide, sparkling eyes, practically pressed her face against her camera.
Her cheeks were already flushed pink, and her lips parted as if she was physically struggling not to drool.
"Ann... you never told us you had a brother that hot."
Liam blinked.
Ann burst into laughter.
Liam?
Liam just wanted to disappear into the floor.
