Resurrecting the Genius Within

Chapter 303 Veteran Gambler Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

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Isabelle remarked, “Listen a bit more, and you’ll pick it up.” 

Unconcerned about the outcome, George casually pushed half of his chips forward, betting on big. 

Their presence had already drawn the attention of the casino, with other players migrating to their table. 

Observing George’s bold move, the dealer’s tension spiked, followed by some of the other gamblers who mirrored his bet. 

The dealer made the move. 

George looked at the dice three, four, six, totaling thirteen – Isabelle’s call, “big, proved accurate. 

Impressed. George marvelled, “Is there anything you can’t do?” 

With a touch of confidence, Isabelle replied. “There’s nothing I can’t do, bro.” 

“You’re calling me bro?” 

George chuckled, reminiscing about their last trip to Alcott, where an airport attendant mistook them for siblings. 

“Come on, bro. Place your bets,” said Isabelle. 

Evidently, she was playfully testing him. 

George proposed, “Care to try again?” 

Isabelle confidently stated, “Two, three, three, totaling eight small,” 

Her predictions were uncannily accurate, a relief that Dylan wasn’t present to witness, as it would surely astonish him. 

And then he’d follow the bets to make some cash. 

After a few rounds, George began to grasp the game’s nuances, so Isabelle let him off the leash a little. 

While he couldn’t match Isabelle’s precision, a fifty percent chance of guessing big or small proved quite 

reliable. 

Surrounded by cager gamblers, each bet they placed seemed to turn to gold, drawing admiration and awe from the crowd. 

They were hailed as arbiters of fortune, winning every bet they placed. 

Come lunchtime, Isabelle had her fill of fun. 

With a decisive move, George placed all his chips at once, opting for ‘small, signalling his intention to wrap up after this round. 

Following suit, the other gamblers cautiously nudged their chips forward, mirroring George’s modest bet. 

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Chapter 303 Veteran Gambler 

A subtle exchange of glances between the dealer and his assistant hinted at something clandestine. 

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Then, with a seemingly innocent gesture, the dealer’s hand hovered over the table, discreetly grazing a concealed button. 

The dice rattled within the cup, their fateful roll transforming the numbers from two, two, four to five, five, five. 

Isabelle’s keen senses pricked up, though George remained oblivious. However, the dealer and his assistant’s covert interaction didn’t escape his notice, prompting a flicker of suspicion. 

The dealer always won in the end. That was what gambling meant. With a casino this big, George knew the 

operators would cheat. 

As the dealer poised to reveal the dice, Isabelle interjected in Fleoburgian. 

“A moment, please.” 

George’s intuition tingled with a sense of foreboding at Isabelle’s sudden intervention. 

The dealer’s hand froze mid–motion, his gaze now fixed on Isabelle, tension tightening his frame. “Is something amiss?” 

All eyes in the room swivelled towards Isabelle, awaiting her response. 

Turning to George, Isabelle instructed, “Bet on triple five.” 

In addition to the conventional bets, players could also wager on triples, where all three dice displayed the same number, albeit with low odds yet a lucrative payout. 

The dealer’s a sore loser. 

Isabelle strategically employed her native tongue, shielding her plan from prying ears, George, understanding her cue, boldly shifted all his chips from ‘small‘ to the center of the gambling table. 

Confusion rippled among the gamblers. 

The chances of getting three dice with the same point were slim to none. Moreover, the rule stipulated that once a bet was placed, it couldn’t be altered. 

Isabelle knew that, of course. 

The dealer, seeking to maintain order, reiterated, “Once your bet’s down, it stays. 

Isabelle, fluent in Fleoburgian, countered nonchalantly, “So, you can cheat, but we can’t tweak our bets?” 

“The dealer cheated?” 

The gamblers exchanged incredulous glances, hastily retracting their chips. 

With a stern gaze, the dealer warned, “Mind your words, miss. You new here? Understand whose turf you’re on?” 

Yet, Isabelle remained unfazed, her composure unwavering. 

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“I’m not interested in whose turf this is. It’s your choice: play fair, and I’ll collect my winnings and depart, or I’ll shut this place down,” Isabelle declared resolutely. 

The dealer scoffed, “You two are nothing but trouble, huh? Since you showed up, it’s been win after win. We never accused you of cheating, but now you’re pointing fingers.” 

“If those three fives aren’t there, then you may do as you wish,” Isabelle challenged, her tone firm and unyielding. 

Externally composed, the dealer’s facade crumbled internally as he grappled with the unexpected turn of 

events. 

Contemplating how Isabelle had discerned the presence of triple fives, the dealer began, “Since you brought up… 

Isabelle swiftly interjected, her voice commanding. “No touching the table. Keep your hands off, and nobody move.” 

Caught off guard, the dealer’s hand, poised for manipulation, remained suspended, while his assistant was met with incredulous gazes from all sides. 

Amidst the tension, a curious gambler made a move towards the cover, only to be thwarted by the dealer’s intervention, igniting further suspicion among the onlookers. 

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Resurrecting the Genius With