Chapter 309: Gambling? No, Just Math (Bonus - )

Liam accepted the single high-value chip from the pit boss. The gold-rimmed token carried a quiet weight in his palm, but to him it felt no heavier than a coin.He rolled it between his fingers once, then looked at the Baccarat table with a small smile.

The table was full, but the moment the dealers saw the million-dollar chip in his hand, they understood who needed priority.

One of the attendants stepped in quickly, guiding him toward a free seat that had opened at the far end of the table.

The players sitting near it glanced up, curious, then looked again when they saw his face. They tried to guess who he was or what family he came from, but none of them recognized him.

As Liam lowered himself into the seat, Lucy’s voice reached him through his Lucid.

"Sir, do you want my assistance?" She asked.

Liam tilted his head slightly and he smiled, with a look that says interesting.

"And how exactly do you plan to help?" he asked her silently.

"I can create a probability model for every possible outcome," she replied. "I can also track every card dealt in real time and compare them to the remaining deck. The prediction accuracy will reach a point where you will win more than you lose."

Liam’s smile grew a little wider. He didn’t come to the casino to cheat, but this wasn’t cheating. It was simply using what he already had.

If people in this world wanted an advantage, they bought luck charms and prayed. Liam used an AI that could map the entire game faster than any supercomputer.

"Do it," he told her. "But I’ll play the first hand alone."

"Understood," Lucy said.

Less than a second later, she added, "Both programs are ready."

Liam nodded inwardly and turned his attention to the table. The dealer nodded at him, acknowledging the large chip in his possession. The other players noticed too. It wasn’t unusual for people to gamble big money in Macau, but someone who looks this young throwing around a million-dollar chip... that was worth looking at.

The dealer tapped the table gently. "Bets, please."

Liam lifted the chip between two fingers and placed it down on the smooth felt. He pushed it toward the square that read Banker.

People around him shifted slightly when they saw that he had bet the entire $1m. Some whispered in very low voices, while some watched in silence. And others smiled in amusement, thinking he was either lucky or foolish.

There was not much to say as the dealer dealt the cards.

Banker: 4

Player: 7

Liam leaned back, relaxed. There was sno tension on his face, as losses meant nothing to him.

When the dealer announced the win for Player, a few players chuckled and others shrugged. The dealer gathered the chip away smoothly and swept it into the house tray.

One man at the table looked at Liam, murmured and smiled, "Bad start."

Liam simply smiled and raised his hand.

"Another million chip," he said calmly.

The attendant nodded and hurried off. Within seconds, another $1m chip was placed in front of him. Liam accepted it without changing expression.

"Lucy," he said silently, "let’s begin."

"Yes, sir."

A wave of silent data unfolded behind his vision and patterns he wasn’t consciously tracking flowed into place.

The dealer tapped the table again. "Place your bets."

Liam placed the chip on Banker once more.

The first hand had been a warm-up. This and every hand after belonged to him.

The cards were dealt.

Banker: 7

Player: 3

"Banker wins."

The dealer pushed two million back toward Liam, who nodded lightly.

And so the game began.

***

Hours passed. At least to everyone else.

For Liam, there was no sense of time. Only motion, numbers, the steady flow of cards being dealt, chips being pushed, wins being collected, losses being calculated and countered with perfect precision.

Lucy tracked everything—card sequences, shoe depth, dealer habits, player tendencies, subtle shifts in probabilities, post-shuffle patterns and even statistical anomalies.

And all of it fed into a stream of suggestions.

To outsiders, it looked like he was making guesses. They thought it was just luck, instinct and strange confidence. But in truth, Liam was playing with so much information that the game barely qualified as gambling anymore.

He wasn’t cheating. He wasn’t altering cards or interfering with the shoe. He was simply calculating the game at a level no human could.

As the night deepened, the table’s energy changed.

The other players noticed that he kept winning steadily, consistently and his stack grew hand after hand. Though he did lose occasionally.

The dealer had began watching him more and the pit boss had already checked on the table twice, and even a third time.

But Liam didn’t care. The money wasn’t the point. The thrill wasn’t the point either.

He simply enjoyed the process.

At one point, a man sitting beside him, who has spoken to him earlier, leaned forward slowly and whispered, "What kind of luck do you have?"

Liam only smiled.

"Good eyesight," he replied.

The man chuckled. But before he could ask more, another game started, and Liam’s attention shifted.

***

By the time the large clock on the casino wall struck eleven, Liam paused and looked at the full set of chips stacked neatly beside him.

Eighty-nine million dollars.

From one million to eighty-nine million in a single night.

He ran a finger over the top chip. The texture was the same as all the others he had touched that night. But the number represented by this mountain of chips would crush the average gambler’s heart.

Around him, the table had grown far quieter. Players watched him with uneasy admiration. A few had left already, convinced they had witnessed something supernatural. Dealers whispered discreetly. Supervisors glanced over from time to time.

One thing was clear to everyone: this young man was not normal.

Liam smiled faintly as he stood up slowly. It was time to call it a night.m

"Cash out," he said to the attendant.

Her hands trembled a little as she nodded. She gestured for two guards to escort him to the cashier’s desk. Not for security reasons, but because it was standard procedure for high-value wins and for internal verification.

They reached the cashier counter. The staff there counted the chips manually, scanned them, checked the code layers, and verified the total.

When the number appeared on their internal system, the cashier cleared her throat softly, turned to Liam and asked, "Would you prefer a transfer or banknotes, sir?"

"Transfer," Liam said and gave her the bank details of the bank account that Lucy had created for his new identity.

The cashier nodded and entered the details.

Within seconds, the money left the casino’s reserve and appeared in Liam’s account. The digital receipt was handed to him and he accepted it without even looking.

The guards bowed lightly as he turned away.

Liam walked through the casino floor with calm steps. The flashes of lights, the clatter of chips, the cheers of gamblers—it all washed past him like background noise.

Outside, the night air of Macau greeted him with a soft breeze.

He stepped off the casino steps, his hands tucked into his pockets, and began walking toward the residential district where his apartment waited.

No one followed him and no one bothered him. He was just another shadow slipping into the night, though if the casino ever reviewed the numbers, they would realize they had just encountered something beyond their understanding.

Liam breathed out softly. He looked up at the bright neon glow stretching across the sky.

"I should get to the apartment and sign-in for today," he muttered to himself.