Chapter 6: Russian Roulette

Taxa de sobrevivência na cópia é 0? Eu termino rapidinho! Doze Alimentos 3672 words 2026-08-05 00:43:26

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The accusation of cheating against Kington threw the activity room into chaos. Before the patients, brandishing chairs and benches, could surround Kington, Wu Chang slipped out of the room ahead of them.

As he left, he made a subtle gesture of blessing.

Hope nothing happens to him.

Julie escorted him back to his room. Standing by the door, she reached into her waist and pulled out a bunch of keys, sorting through them.

“For safety’s sake, don’t go out today. I’ll bring you lunch and dinner.”

In the moment Julie took her keys, Wu Chang caught sight of two keys tied to her nurse’s uniform inside the slit—one black, one red.

Seeing no one around, Wu Chang took off his shirt, revealing the well-toned physique that Julie had rated top marks. While her gaze was distracted, he pinned her against the door, one hand sliding up her thigh, inching toward the two keys.

“Want to stay a while longer?”

Julie forcefully pressed his hand down on her leg with such strength that he couldn’t move it upward.

“You mustn’t touch those keys. In this sanatorium, the basement and the fourth floor are off-limits to patients. Approaching them without permission is a serious violation.”

Wu Chang raised an eyebrow, his hand twitching slightly under her grip.

“If I can’t touch those keys, does that mean I can touch here?”

Julie leaned close to him, whispering with a breathy voice, “That depends on how you behave.”

Watching her retreating figure, Wu Chang raised an eyebrow.

He had guessed right; this woman was indeed on his side.

Without Julie’s protection, Kington would never have let him leave the activity room so easily.

The layer of defense that medical staff provided worked better than he expected. With such an inexpensive guardian angel on his side, no matter what misunderstandings she had about his identity, those misunderstandings would have to persist.

After sending Julie off, Wu Chang immediately checked the spoils from the gambler’s bloody last words.

Player Name: No Beef Eater.

Player Level: 1 (0/100)

Health: 8 (5)

Strength: 9 (5)

Agility: 9 (5)

Endurance: 7 (5)

Energy: 0 (0)

Inspiration: 52 (5)

Willpower: 31 (5)

(The numbers in parentheses represent average stats for adult males aged 20-40.)

Skills: Mamba Iron Elbow, Firearms (Proficient).

Items: Silver Dawn, Favor of the Goddess of Luck.

Talent: Transcendence.

Compared to his previous attribute panel, after completing the gambler’s bloody last words, his agility and willpower each increased by one point, and his inspiration rose by two.

Four attribute points might not seem like much, but the game interface indicated that only five free attribute points are awarded per level up.

Gaining nearly a full level’s worth of attribute points from one bloody last words quest was a considerable gain.

Moreover, besides the attribute bonuses, he also received a new game item.

He opened his portable space and took out three 24-sided dice, each numbered consecutively from 1 to 24.

“Item Name: Favor of the Goddess of Luck.”

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“Item Grade: D.”

“Item Skill: Good Fortune.”

“Roll all three dice; if all numbers rolled are 1, gain the Good Fortune status, which increases the success rate of your next luck-related choice. The effect scales with your Inspiration stat.”

“Item Skill: Weighted Dice.”

“The Goddess of Luck grants extra care to those she favors by weighting the dice with a small amount of lead, ensuring they roll 1 upon activation. This skill can be activated once per dungeon realm.”

Well, well, even the Goddess of Luck cheats, it seems.

Completing the gambler’s bloody last words netted him four attribute points plus a D-grade item. Even without knowing the market in the Abyss Game, he could guess the reward’s value was explosive.

No wonder the talent skill description mentioned the game administrator suspected he was cheating.

What, even the Goddess of Luck weights the dice, and he’s not allowed to have a little helper plugin?

Alone in his room, time seemed endless. Without a computer or phone, he passed the time by rolling the three dice he had just received.

The Good Fortune skill had no usage limit or cooldown—pure luck. If he rolled three ones, he could save the Weighted Dice skill’s usage.

A whole day, and he couldn’t get three ones once?

Two hours later, Wu Chang lay on his bed, dejected, muttering softly:

“Right, the probability of rolling three ones on 24-sided dice is less than one in ten thousand. You, with a 1.6% chance of getting a big consolation prize, are the unluckiest of the unlucky. Even if everyone you meet has low blood sugar, don’t dream.”

As time passed, dusk quickly fell. Nurses shook their bells, announcing nightfall.

Wu Chang got up from the bed and lit the kerosene lamp on the table.

By the lamp’s light, he took out the three dice again and activated the Weighted Dice skill.

The three dice were thrown. After a brief spin, they came to a stop, neatly showing three ones.

Cheating really works.

He put away the dice, moved the table to the center of the room, and sat down on one side.

After an unknown amount of time, just as he was about to fall asleep, footsteps echoed softly down the quiet corridor.

The footsteps grew closer. Judging the timing right, he was about to get up and open the door when it unexpectedly unlocked and swung open by itself.

Kington entered, sitting opposite him with a smile.

“Had a little trouble, got held up,” he said.

Judging by his condition, the trouble was no small matter.

The nurses at Moonlight Sanatorium were fierce, and their patients were no less dangerous.

Kington’s patient gown was nearly soaked in blood, his body covered with at least dozens of wounds—cuts, blunt force trauma, burns, all kinds.

Setting aside the minor wounds, the round shape of Kington’s head now bore a deep dent that hadn’t been there during the day, likely caused by a heavy blow.

A square table leg was still lodged in his abdomen, bleeding, having not yet been pulled out.

The reason it hadn’t been removed was probably because his left arm was inconvenient to bandage—it had been forcibly torn off below the shoulder.

If Kington lay down and played dead now, even a forensic pathologist would need days to figure out which wound was fatal.

Another half-crippled case.

Wu Chang forced a concerned smile and asked, “Brother Kington, how’s your body? Do you want to get treated first?”

Kington grinned broadly, blood seeping from his mouth.

“Just some small injuries, nothing to worry about. Brother Sean, what do you want to bet on?”

Wu Chang pretended to reach under his pillow and pulled out Silver Dawn from his portable space, slapping it on the table.

“Brother Kington, recognize this?”

Kington caressed the silver flintlock with his remaining right hand and sighed, “Such a finely crafted flintlock! I used similar guns during my service. I can guarantee the flintlocks used by the royal family and nobles aren’t as good as this! You want to bet this? I’m afraid I can’t match that with my stakes.”

Wu Chang shook his head and explained:

“No, it’s an item for the bet, not the bet itself. Where I come from, there’s a traditional gamble called Russian Roulette.”

Kington looked curious. “What’s that?”

Wu Chang demonstrated the revolver’s firing mechanism: opening the cylinder, loading a single bullet, spinning it, and closing it.

“The rules are simple: six chambers, only one loaded bullet. We take turns pointing the gun at our heads and pulling the trigger. The one who gets shot loses.”

He glanced at the deep crimson resentment behind Kington.

“If I lose, this gun is yours. If you lose, I want the key to the white door in the underground area.”

Such a straightforward and brutal rule suited Kington perfectly. Licking his lips, he said,

“No problem. The key you want is in my room; if you win, you can go get it yourself. But I have one condition: I get to spin the cylinder and take the first shot.”

“Agreed,” Wu Chang replied promptly.

Kington slapped a sheet of paper on the table, dipped his thumb into one of his wounds to get blood, pressed his fingerprint onto the paper, and pushed it toward Wu Chang.

“To prevent cheating after loss, we sign an agreement before starting. No problem, right?”

The paper bore only a simple sentence:

“The winner takes all; the loser loses everything.”

Wu Chang had seen this agreement within the resentment. It wielded a certain compulsion; once signed, the loser would die instantly, even a player could not resist.

The power of the agreement derived from the huge crescent moon occupying half the page. The moon’s outline was composed of countless intricate curves, beautifully ornate, representing some powerful entity.

Wu Chang pricked his thumb with a dagger and pressed his fingerprint as well.

“Of course no problem. If you’re worried, we can even pinky swear.”

Kington said, “Hope you’re still this optimistic later.”

Kington picked up the gun, carefully checked the cylinder, and confirmed no abnormalities. Then, spinning the cylinder single-handedly, he inserted the bullet while it was still spinning, closing the cylinder.

He pressed the muzzle against his forehead, his smile growing wider.

This so-called Russian Roulette seemed random, but for a top gambler like him, controlling which chamber the bullet lands in was a matter of skill and eyesight.

Random? Not a chance!

He takes the first shot; Wu Chang must take the last.

He could already see the final result: after five empty shots, Wu Chang tremblingly holding the gun, unable to pull the trigger on the bullet destined to pierce his head.

The despair of pushing himself into the abyss would make Wu Chang terrified, struggling, going mad, begging...

Finally, forfeiting and losing the bet, only to be crushed like a bug.

Watching the opponent at the gambling table step by step toward the cliff, no matter how many times he saw it, he never grew tired of the spectacle. This pleasure was enough to mask the pain in his body at the moment.

“Let the game begin!” Kington shouted excitedly, pulling the trigger.

At the same moment, Wu Chang raised a wooden board he had prepared early and shielded himself from the spraying liquid.

Lowering the board, Wu Chang expressionlessly picked up Silver Dawn and wiped the blood off.

The convenience of silver bullets that can be loaded anytime really came in handy.