Maluck sat down at the roulette table, his freshly exchanged chips stacked neatly in front of him. His heart pounded with anticipation. This was it—his one-hour window to make the most of his Probability Charm, where every bet he placed had an enhanced chance of winning. He wasn’t just some reckless gambler throwing chips around. No, he had a system. And that system revolved entirely around one number: 8 (Black).
Well technically he had 2 systems, his new gambling system and the actual System. With not 1, but 2 systems he was ready to rumble!
He started placing his $200 per spin, but unlike an amateur (which he totally was) who’d throw it all on a single number and hope for a miracle, Maluck spread his bets like he’d seen the pros do in movies. He covered inside numbers, outside bets, and even threw a few chips on the corner, just in case. It was messy, unstructured, and definitely not the smartest move—but he figured if it worked for the slick guys in movies, it could work for him, right?
The Plan
•Inside Bets (Higher Payout, Higher Risk)
•$50 straight-up on 8 (35:1 payout) → The jackpot target
•$60 total in split bets—$15 each covering 8 with its neighbors: 5, 7, 10, and 11 (17:1 payout)
•$20 on a street bet covering 7, 8, and 9 (11:1 payout)
•$20 on a corner bet covering 5, 6, 8, and 9 (8:1 payout)
•Outside Bets (Lower Payout, Higher Consistency)
•$30 on the entire column that contained 8 (2:1 payout)
•$20 on black (1:1 payout) → Covers 8 along with all black numbers
•$20 on 1-18 (Low Numbers) (1:1 payout) → Covers 8 and all numbers from 1-18
With these bets in place, he hoped that even if 8 didn’t hit, he had plenty of backup options to win.
Maluck watched as the ball clattered around the wheel, bouncing between numbers like it was deliberately messing with him. It slowed down, hovered near 8 for a second—his heart jumped—and then landed on 10.
“10, black,” the dealer announced.
Maluck exhaled sharply, then looked at his chip stacks. He didn’t hit 8, but he still won money because of his:
•Split bet (8-10) → $270 win
•Column bet (which includes 10) → $90 win
•Black bet → $40 win
Total win: $400
Not bad. Not great either. But he wasn’t here to win fast—he was here to win consistently.
The next spin was awful—a complete disaster. Maluck had more chips spread across the table than a family-size bag of Baked Laze, yet somehow, every single bet missed. Not even a measly outside bet hit. $200—gone. Just like that. One moment, it was a neat stack of chips, full of hope and potential. The next, it was a tragic footnote in his growing list of gambling experiences.
He stared at the board, then at the dealer, then back at the board. “Nothing?” he muttered under his breath. “Not even a sympathy payout?”
The dealer, as expressionless as ever, swept away his chips with the efficiency of a banker repossessing dreams.
Maluck exhaled sharply and mentally pulled up his inventory sheet to check if he had accidentally turned off his Probability Charm?
Probability Charm: Active. 55 minutes left.
‘Okay, good, so it’s still working,’ he thought, though it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.
He sighed. ‘I realllllly need to temper my expectations.’
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
One lucky spin, and he thought he was some kind of gambling prodigy. But no, the roulette wheel was still a cruel, unforgiving beast, Probability Charm or not. This wasn’t a magic button for free money—it was just a slightly better chance at not being a complete loser.
And right now? He still felt like one.
As the minutes ticked by, Maluck kept placing the same bets, spinning, and watching as the ball mocked him—always hovering near 8, only to veer off at the last second.
•A 7 hit? Split bet and street bet win.
•A 9? Corner bet and street bet win.
•A 5? Corner bet win.
•A black number lands? His black bet salvages some cash.
This kept him in the game, never letting him walk away empty-handed. It was like the universe dangled 8 in front of him but refused to let him take a direct win.
At one point, the ball literally bounced on 8 twice before settling on 6. Maluck almost flipped the table. “That has to be illegal,” he muttered under his breath.
The spins where he totally missed also kept happening, like a cruel joke the universe was playing on him. Every time the ball landed, it somehow dodged every single bet he had placed—as if the roulette wheel itself had developed a personal vendetta against him.
But the worst—the absolute soul-crushing moment—was when the ball landed on zero (green).
Maluck winced as the croupier calmly announced, “Zero, green.” The table groaned collectively, a mix of sighs and frustrated gamblers realizing their money had just vanished into the bottomless pit of casino profits. Zero was the house’s cruelest trick, the ultimate reset button that wiped out all bets except for those who had the rare foresight (or masochism) to bet directly on it.
”$200 gone in three seconds.”
He slumped back in his seat. “That’s gotta be illegal,” he muttered under his breath, watching the dealer sweep up his chips like a vacuum of despair.
And yet—he was never fully wiped out.
The way he had spread his bets meant that even on his worst runs, something small always hit here and there—just enough to keep him in the game. A split bet here, a column bet there, a red or black hedge—they weren’t big wins, but they were enough to soften the blows.
So while his chip stack fluctuated like a rollercoaster operated by a drunk engineer, he wasn’t out. Not yet.
And if there was one thing Maluck knew after years of terrible luck—it was that the longer he survived, the more chances he had to turn things around.
Maluck had steadily built his stack. His winnings fluctuated but never dipped too low—his method kept him afloat even when 8 never hit directly.
And then, the final bet of the hour.
Maluck took a deep breath. One last spin. This was it, the moment of truth. The ball bounced, clattered, and tumbled around the wheel like it was trying to decide whether to be kind or cruel. For a split second, Maluck swore he saw his lucky number 8 hovering right there on the edge of destiny. The ball swirled closer and closer to it, and Maluck felt a spark of hope. This is it, he thought. I’m going to win big.
But just as his heart began to race, the ball made a final hop and landed with a harsh clink on 7.
‘This is bullshit,’ Maluck thought, staring at the number. He swore under his breath. ‘This wasn’t this how it always happened in the movies?’
The hero would be riding the highs and lows of the game, facing near defeat, and then at the last minute—bam! A slow-motion shot, the roulette ball spinning towards his number. And then victory, in cinematic glory..
‘Where’s my slow-motion, cinematic winning moment?’ Maluck complained mentally, feeling the universe, the casino, and luck itself had all betrayed him in that instant. He couldn’t help but laugh bitterly, shaking his head. ‘I guess life doesn’t work like the movies, huh?’
He sighed and exhaled, half-laughing and half-groaning. “Of course. One number off. Story of my life.”
But then, as he glanced down at the chips in front of him, his frown began to fade. The final total winnings displayed in front of him: $7,000.
Wait—what?
He hadn’t hit 8, sure. But his strategy, the one he had pieced together from watching too many gambling movies, and the little boost from his Probability Charm, had worked. Maluck walked in with $2,000, and now he was walking out with $9,000. ‘Not bad. Not bad for an hour of “luck,” ‘he thought with a smile.
Maluck chuckled to himself as he gathered his chips, shoving them into his pockets. He checked his stat sheet one last time—his Probability Charm Extension had expired. Yet, he had walked out with a win.
A real win.
Feeling a mix of satisfaction and relief, Maluck leaned back, grinning. ‘Guess sometimes life does throw you a bone,’ he thought, still smiling at the absurdity of it all.
For the first time in his life, luck wasn’t just something that happened to other people.
And that? That was worth more than any jackpot.
Maluck slid a $100 tip over to the dealer, who accepted it with the same emotionless efficiency they had while sweeping away his chips earlier. In their head, though, the dealer thought, ‘Huh, at least the noobie learned that tipping wasn’t just a city in China.’
“Thanks,” Maluck muttered, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was thanking them for—maybe for not laughing at his losses? Maybe for simply existing? Either way, he figured tipping was a good luck gesture, and right now, he needed every ounce of cosmic favor he could get.
With a deep breath, he pushed away from the table, his pockets heavier than when he started—and his mood feeling lighter.
But unlike the casinos in Vegas, there were no free rooms, no VIP comps, no fancy steak dinners for high rollers. Hell, he didn’t even get so much as a “Thanks for playing” coupon for a free drink.
Nope. Just a polite nod from the dealer, the lingering scent of stale casino air, and the realization that he still hadn’t accomplished his System Task of “Finding his Benefactors.”
That was definitely next on his to do list!
***