In the underground gambling den, if the upper space still has so basic order, at most you can gamble until your underwear is lost, but at least you can still walk out with your legs.
However, in the lower space, the baseline of order is completely different.
It’s a "slaughterhouse" for humans, where everything about a person can be openly priced.
An eyeball, a kidney, a pair of hands, even a life...
Anything you can make a decision on can be used as a chip to gamble for a chance to change your fate.
At a gambling table in the lower space, a man and a woman sat face to face, in front of them was a thick stack of Moon Currency Paper Money with a 1000 denomination.
The man held a revolver, slowly placed the barrel in his mouth, his dirt-covered face contorted unconsciously, his bloodshot eyes wide open, breathing heavily like a bull.
"Click." He pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
The man’s breathing noticeably cald, his eyes began to show a provocative look, and he tossed the revolver in front of the woman: "Your turn, if you don’t dare to play just admit defeat."
The woman picked up the revolver without hesitation, aid at her temple and pulled the trigger, so quickly that the surrounding people couldn’t react.
"Click."
Still, nothing happened.
"Your turn." The woman threw the revolver back.
It was obvious that the man’s gaze started to wander, he hesitated.
Seeing this, the surrounding audience began to jeer:
"Co on! Don’t be a coward, screw this doghouse!"
"Three shots left, just a third of a chance, if this gun misfires, the pressure will all be on her, what’s there to be afraid of?"
"It’s a joke, can’t even play against a woman? You’re a real coward."
Perhaps the term "coward" provoked the man, his face twisted, grabbed the revolver and shoved it in his mouth, fiercely pulling the trigger.
"Bang!" The force from the gunshot caused his face to ripple, the bullet penetrated the oral structure and flew out from the back of his head, blood splattering in a radial pattern on the rear wall.
"Thud." He fell into a pool of blood, twitching briefly before going still.
After a brief mont of silence, the audience began to murmur about the man’s corpse:
"What a pity, screwed by the house again."
"Just missed it, this guy had bad luck."
"Maybe it’s for the best, hitting middle age and still relying on life-and-death gambling to earn money, there’s not much hope for his days, better restart early."
The woman took the smoking revolver from the man’s hand, wiped the blood and saliva off the barrel on his clothes, then tossed the thick stack of paper money to her companion, turned and left without looking back.
At the main counter, the head of the underground gambling den nodded in satisfaction.
The money wasn’t won, the atmosphere was maintained, and tonight is another lively night.
"Throw the body into the incinerator, clean up the blood." The leader instructed his companion, then shouted to the crowd, "Anyone else want to play? Win once, enjoy for a lifeti, luxury cars and beauties waiting for you lowlifes!"
A gambler who just risked his life had died, so the crowd hesitated, watching carefully.
Then, a voice rose: "Yes, I want to play."
Su Mo squeezed out of the crowd holding Qi Ling’s hand.
Their flashy clothes clashed with the surroundings, instantly becoming the center of attention:
"Where did this young brat co from, even holding a chick’s hand."
"Hey, kiddo, tired of living? Go ahead, I’ll take care of your girlfriend for you, haha."
"This girl’s white stockings are really enticing, can’t even imagine how fragrant it would be to take a sniff."
The leader looked up and down at the youthful Su Mo, laughed: "Still a student, huh? What, borrowed a student loan that you can’t pay back, ca here to gamble big?"
Su Mo retorted: "You talk too much, gonna let play or not?"
"Oh, quite temperantal." The leader crossed his arms, said nonchalantly, "Sure, anyone can co play here. What do you want to play?"
Su Mo folded his fingers, mimicking a shooting gesture at his temple: "Roulette, betting on a life."
The surrounding audience whistled, and the leader shouted with joy: "Great, got guts!"
He slapped a revolver onto the table, opened a screen behind him and said: "Here’s the price, one costs 30,000, the more bullets, the higher the price, how many do you want?"
Su Mo smirked briefly, slapped the revolver away: "I don’t want this one."
He pointed at the wall towards a uniquely designed, futuristic-looking revolver and said: "I want that 36-shot one."
The audience imdiately booed, and the leader rolled his eyes at him.
Ordinary revolvers have a 6 round chamber, even with just one bullet, there’s a one-sixth chance of "winning," quite thrilling.
But that revolver on the wall, it’s a high-tech gun that recently ca out, using needle-like bullets, small in size, hence the chamber can accommodate an absurd 36 rounds.
If this revolver only has one needle bullet, the chance of winning is less than 3%.
It’s mostly for the most cowardly players.
The leader took the revolver down and placed it on the table, looking at Su Mo with disdain: "So cautious about life, what are you doing here? One bullet in this gun costs 2000, hurry up and finish playing."
Su Mo: "When did I say I only want one bullet?"
The leader puzzled: "Then how many do you want?"
Su Mo’s eyes flashed sharply, his voice suddenly filled the room: "I want 35!"
In that instant, it was as if a blade sliced through, severing all sound.
Gradually, the noise surged up again, the horrified voices echoed like a tidal wave almost overturning the ceiling.
"Holy crap, did I hear wrong? 35 bullets?!"
"I’m not good at math, can soone calculate the probability of getting shot in the head?!"
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