Chloe Evans finally clenched her teeth and joined the deadly game.
Russian roulette was all about luck.
Perhaps the previous card game had drained too much of her energy—her temples throbbed violently.
She refused to believe her misfortune would last forever.
Just one win, and all her troubles would vanish. She might even witness Sophia Sullivan's death with her own eyes.
Half an hour later, the game began.
Sophia, Julian Valentine, Amy, and Chloe sat around the gambling table. The dealer brought over a silver tray covered with black velvet.
When the velvet was lifted, two revolvers gleamed coldly under the lights, their metallic sheen reflecting four tense faces.
"Two revolvers, six chambers, only one live round. Please draw lots to determine the order."
The dealer's voice fell, and each participant drew a slip from the black box.
Chloe unfolded her slip, fingers trembling slightly.
Number one.
She crushed the paper in her palm, nails digging into her flesh.
The dealer handed her the revolver.
In its polished surface, she could almost see the gruesome image of her own skull shattering.
"I... I need a moment."
Her legs felt weak, her back drenched in cold sweat.
Forcing composure, she raised the gun, pressed the muzzle to her temple, and shut her eyes.
A deep breath.
She pulled the trigger.
Time seemed to freeze.
A soft click.
Empty chamber.
Chloe gasped for air, her fingers shaking uncontrollably.
"I'm alive..."
She whispered to herself, color finally returning to her pale face.
The dealer took back the revolver and spun the cylinder again.
Next was Julian.
The man accepted the gun with casual indifference, as if handling a delicate artifact.
He pressed the barrel to his forehead without hesitation.
The room held its breath.
Countless eyes locked onto his trigger finger.
Among those gazes lurked the gamblers' hidden anticipation—they yearned to see the Underground City's ruler bleed out before them.
Julian pulled the trigger.
Click.
Another empty chamber.
He set the gun down without blinking, a shadow of calculation flickering in his eyes.
Third was Amy.
When the dealer offered the revolver, she instinctively reached with her right hand but recoiled from the pain of her severed fingers.
Blood seeped through her bandages.
Switching to her left hand, she lightly traced the trigger.
A faint resistance told her—this was the live round.
Suppressing her racing heart, she scanned the room.
"Wonder if I'll hit the jackpot this time."
Her tone was light, but as she adjusted her stance, her finger subtly nudged the cylinder.
The bullet's position had been altered.
Bang!
Empty.
"Seems Lady Luck favors me today."
Amy smirked coldly, her gaze challenging Sophia.
"Three chambers left. One-in-three odds now."
Sophia had watched everything with detached amusement.
She had seen through Amy's trick from the start.
"One in three isn't one hundred percent."
She lazily took the revolver, pressing the muzzle steadily against her temple.
In the audience, Ethan Sullivan's fists clenched.
His eyes burned into Sophia's trigger finger.
If anything happened to her, he'd make sure the entire room paid with their lives.
A darker thought coiled in his mind:
Even in death, they wouldn't be separated.
A storm raged in his gaze.
Bang—
The fourth empty chamber.
Four consecutive misses sent murmurs rippling through the crowd.
"That's insane luck!"
"Aside from Chloe, the other three aren't afraid to die!"
"The odds just got higher!"
Amid the noise, Amy suddenly raised her voice.
"This is boring. Let's change the rules—we shoot at each other instead. How about that?"
Her tone dripped with manic excitement.
Chloe slammed her hands on the table. "I object!"
The thought of entrusting her life to someone else made her blood run cold.
But Sophia merely shrugged. "Fine by me."
Julian gave an indifferent nod. "No objections here."
Chloe's face turned ashen.
These lunatics!
But the majority ruled—she had no choice.
The dealer announced, "New rules in effect."
The audience erupted.
"Now this is a life-or-death game!"
"Imagine having a gun pointed at your head—most people would crack under pressure!"
"It's all about nerve. The first to flinch loses!"
As deafening cheers filled the air, the dealer expertly reloaded the revolver.
The game continued.