Chapter 38: The Class Game (Part 4)

With 100 gold coins, they would finally have real gambling money.

Yun Xueqing thought for a moment before saying flatly, “No bet.”

The casino manager was about to persuade him further when Fu Wuxuan, standing nearby, grinned and said, “I can join.”

The plump Maitreya Buddha manager turned toward the sound, a bizarre smile spreading across his face. “Then please join with your friend.”

Yun Xueqing hesitated and looked at Fu Wuxuan. “My luck isn’t great.”

“Is that so?” Fu Wuxuan’s lips curved slightly, his expression relaxed and at ease. “My luck is decent. It’s just not as good as that kid from the previous Weird Domain.”

He sighed casually. “If he were here, he’d win ten out of ten bets and become a Noble through sheer luck by now.”

Yun Xueqing neither confirmed nor denied it. He asked flatly, “Do you know gambling tricks?”

“No,” Fu Wuxuan tapped his chin with a fingertip. “But I’m a person of strong luck. I won’t let you lose.”

And I definitely won’t let you die.

He didn’t voice the second half. Yun Xueqing seemed to sense something and glanced at him before saying flatly, “I know a little.”

He nodded and turned to the Maitreya Buddha. “Bet.”

A huge smile bloomed on the casino manager’s face. He lowered his voice and said, “Class Game. No regrets on bets.”

He led the two to the Russian Roulette station in the casino. Countless frenzied gamblers were already there, clutching their last bits of gambling money, their eyes bloodshot as they waited eagerly for new participants.

When Yun Xueqing and Fu Wuxuan stepped onto the platform, the gamblers eagerly placed their bets on one side or the other.

Yet in perfect unison, none of them shouted out their choices. Instead, they silently bet on who they thought would win.

The rotund Maitreya Buddha manager smiled as he pulled out a gun. “This is a brass revolver with six chambers. Five are empty, and one holds a live round. You each take turns firing three times. Whoever hits loses, and the winner takes 100 gold coins.”

Fu Wuxuan raised an eyebrow. “Me and him?”

If it was just the two of them competing, there was no need to go all out to the death. They could forfeit the first round, let the other win, and still claim the 100 gold coins. After all, they were on the same side.

The Maitreya Buddha clearly knew they’d exploit that loophole. He smiled, but his eyes held no mirth as he said with feigned politeness, “So we’ve adjusted the rules slightly. Neither side can forfeit. You must fire all six rounds—or until someone gets hit early, of course.”

Anyone could see the malicious grin on his face. “The real thrill of Russian Roulette is this battle of life and death—the ultimate spirit of selfish individualism. As long as the other dies, you claim sole victory!”

A manic gleam lit his face. He panted heavily with excitement, mouth agape. “Carrying the life of a close friend on your shoulders to earn those 100 gold coins—you might feel guilt and pain for life. But deep down, you’ll wickedly revel in your victory and feel smug relief. How exhilarating! The pinnacle of extreme selfishness!”

Yun Xueqing’s expression remained flat. “Lunatic.”

“Correction: he’s not my close friend,” Fu Wuxuan’s lips hooked up slightly. His tone was leisurely and unhurried. “Just a gaming buddy. You’re overthinking it, old man.”

The Maitreya Buddha manager’s smile froze for a split second, but he quickly regained his composure. “There were tons of people waiting outside to play Russian Roulette. I handpicked you two. I even thought you had some special bond, but you’re not even close friends?”

He muttered to himself, “Then I need to reconsider whether to let you play.”

Fu Wuxuan, who hadn’t anticipated this twist despite all his calculations, said, “Please let us continue.”

The manager snorted with laughter. “If your relationship isn’t close enough, it kills the fun. Your payout drops by half.”

Fu Wuxuan instantly realized the trap and let out a short, exasperated laugh. Offending him meant no money—and possibly getting chased out of the whole town. He forced himself to steady the man. “We’re not close friends, but we have a deeper bond… the kind normal people don’t.”

After all, he and Yun Xueqing wore matching shackles on their wrists and had shared a prison cell. That was ironclad jailbird brotherhood—something normal folks wouldn’t have.

The manager’s excitement surged at those words. He gasped with wide-open mouth. “You’re that kind of couple?”

Closer and more inseparable than friends? Obviously love!

In movies and shows, the agony of killing your lover by hand far surpassed killing a friend!

Panting heavily, his face flushed red with thrill, he said, “I need to verify. Kiss right now!”

Yun Xueqing: “…”

This monster sure knows how to imagine things.

For once, Yun Xueqing inwardly grumbled. Then Fu Wuxuan suddenly grasped his hand, interlocking their fingers tightly.

Yun Xueqing’s eyes flickered with undisguised surprise as he looked at the other man. Fu Wuxuan winked, made a shushing gesture with his index finger, and smiled charmingly. “You don’t want our relationship exposed, right?”

The manager let out a shocked yelp, his expression growing even more ecstatic.

The gamblers below had lost their patience. “Stop dragging it out and get on with it!”

“Why’s the manager yapping so much? Start already! I can’t wait to win money!”

“Start, or refund us, damn it!”

The manager waved dismissively, as if placating them. “Right away, right away.”

His face returned to a serious expression. He had Fu Wuxuan and Yun Xueqing sit facing each other at a small square table, while he stood to the side and explained the final rule. “In normal Russian Roulette, you shoot yourself. But we’re playing fresh: shoot each other. If you’re that kind of couple, it’s even more thrilling.”

The drama of lovers slaughtering each other—he could watch it forever and never tire.

With a sinister smile, he handed over the gun. “Who goes first?”

Fu Wuxuan took it first, weighing it in his hand. “Weight’s right. Only one bullet loaded.”

The casino manager looked surprised. “You’ve got skills?”

Fu Wuxuan wore a nonchalant smile. “Play with these enough, and you can tell by feel.”

Thinks he’s clever.

The manager inwardly cackled, struggling to hide his anticipation. His smile stayed neutral. “If so, can you feel where the bullet is?”

Fu Wuxuan tapped his chin. “If I’m not wrong, chamber six.”

The manager’s expression stiffened, then his smile slowly widened again. He clapped in delighted surprise. “Impressive skills! How’d you guess?”

He didn’t bother hiding it—they were playing with open cards now.

“Just a guess,” Fu Wuxuan said indifferently, handing the revolver to Yun Xueqing. “All that buildup was smoke. The real show’s at the end.”

Only as the manager’s smile turned manic did he add leisurely, “Isn’t that how it always goes in TV dramas?”

The manager clapped until his hands nearly blistered, exclaiming in delight. “You’re a real talent! Survive this match, and I’ll recruit you to our casino!”

Fu Wuxuan waved him off, a rare flash of disgust crossing his face. “No thanks. I don’t want to be a wage slave in this world too.”

Though if they lost, they’d lose their lives or fortunes first—then it’d be back to the Livestock Yard as literal livestock slaves.

The casino manager laughed heartily. “Fine then. Let’s start. Who first?”

They were playing open now: bullet in chamber six, rules meant firing at each other alternately. If Fu Wuxuan fired first, chamber six would be Yun Xueqing’s turn—Fu Wuxuan dies. Vice versa, Yun Xueqing dies.

Both knew it clearly.

The manager looked expectant and turned to Fu Wuxuan. “Gun’s in his hands now. You sure you want him to fire first?”

Fu Wuxuan smiled crookedly. “Who’d volunteer to die? …Of course I gave him the gun.”

The manager gave him a meaningful look, then turned to Yun Xueqing. “He handed you the gun to start. Any objections?”

He eagerly awaited the flat-faced man’s breakdown—the raw agony, the explosive argument, the screams of “selfish bastard!”

But disappointment struck. Yun Xueqing’s face stayed flat, his tone even. “Fine.”

The manager gritted his teeth, assuming he hadn’t grasped the subtext, and hinted wildly. “The first shooter might die, you know? Sure you don’t want to fight for the later slot?”

Yun Xueqing’s face stayed flat. “No need. Too much hassle.”

The manager fumed inwardly. “…Too much hassle now? Careful you don’t end up a corpse later.”

Yun Xueqing nodded. “Got it. Let’s start.”

He took the gun smoothly and, without hesitation, fired the first shot at Fu Wuxuan—denying the manager another chance to interfere.

The manager: “…”

Can’t carry these guys.

Fu Wuxuan was just as decisive, firing the second shot cleanly—empty chamber again.

The first two shots flew by swiftly, as if they weren’t playing a death game.

But on the third, pressure hit. Yun Xueqing hesitated, his draw slowing.

He rested the revolver on his thigh uneasily, his face showing struggle and deep hesitation.

Without Oracle powers, Fu Wuxuan’s body was like any ordinary person’s. A live round would kill him outright—no dodging.

Two minutes passed without firing. The gamblers below yelled impatiently. “Shoot already! Quit hesitating, damn it! We know it’s chamber six!”

The manager grew more excited, rubbing his hands nonstop.

Yun Xueqing lifted the gun from his thigh, gripped it with both hands, and hesitated before pulling the trigger—empty again.

Groans and cheers erupted from the crowd below.

Fourth shot: Fu Wuxuan’s turn. He pulled the trigger casually—still nothing.

The gamblers were now 100% sure: bullet in six. They just wanted it over.

Only the manager held back a scream, suppressing his glee lest a microexpression give it away. He stared unblinking at the table.

Because only he knew—the bullet was in chamber five.

To be precise, chambers five and six both held live rounds.