(Chapter 25 Snezhnayan Roulette)
Snezhnayan Roulette... A game infamous for its low mortality rate, yet the prize for the winner was massive. The game originated in the icy lands of Snezhnaya, played by maniacs and bored nobles alike. The rules are simple: two players face off with a special flintlock loaded with a mix of real bullets and duds. Only limbs and non-vital parts of the body can be targeted. The players take turns shooting at each other, and if a player manages to shoot themselves with a dud bullet, they earn the right to take the next turn.
The game is a test of nerve, courage, and luck, with each round heightening the suspense. Despite its seemingly low risk, the psychological strain and the anticipation of pain make it a harrowing experience, one that only the most daring or desperate would choose to play. The reward, however, is enough to tempt even the most cautious, promising wealth, power, or freedom to the victor.
Both Clervie and Peruere tensed up at Crucabena's game suggestion.
"Well? Shall we play? Young Lord?"
Crucabena smiled warmly as she spoke to Tempest.
"Fine then, you want to play? Let's play."
Tempest agreed though he was unfamiliar with the game Crucabena had proposed. Despite his lack of knowledge, he was determined to win.
"Fantastic! This night will surely be one to remember! Come along, Young Lord, this place isn't suited for our game."
Crucabena stood up from her seat, taking the flintlock with her. She passed by Tempest and gestured for him to follow. After a brief pause, he complied, stepping in line behind her.
"Don't fall behind you two."
Crucabena said, signaling for Clervie and Peruere to follow them. They complied without hesitation.
The four entered the elevator, and Crucabena pressed the button to descend to the lowest floor. As the elevator began its descent, an unsettling quiet settled over them. The atmosphere in the small, enclosed space was tense, broken only by the soft hum of the machinery as it carried them downward.
Finally the elevator door slid open.
"G-Good evening Mother."
Another member of the House of the Hearth, who appeared to be on late-night cleaning duty, bowed his head respectfully to Crucabena as he swept the floor.
"Hester? You failed your mission right?"
Crucabena asks him with an unamused look.
"Y-Yes... I'm sorry Mother..."
Hester replied while still bowing his head.
"Hmm, no worries at all! Come with me, I have a new task for you."
Hester raised his head and nodded, he then joined the group.
After a short walk, they arrived at their destination. The door was locked, clearly off-limits to every child of the House of the Hearth. Crucabena retrieved a key from her pocket and opened the door.
"Well, here we are!"
Crucabena said excitedly, her face lighting up with a smile. The room was dimly lit, with only a table and a cabinet full of medicines and syringes visible.
"W-Why are we here in this room Mother?"
Crucabena ignored Hester's words and approached the table, placing the flintlock in the center of a drawn circle.
"The rules are simple, Young Lord. Two players will take turns with the flintlock, which will be randomly loaded with either real bullets or duds. You must avoid aiming for the head or vital parts of the body. If you shoot yourself with a dud, you get the next turn. Defeat three of my children, and you win."
Crucabena explained with a warm smile.
'Now I know why she wanted to play this game... Clearly, I'm at a disadvantage here... I'm guaranteed to lose if I'm not lucky...'
Tempest thought to himself, still calm even in the situation he was in.
"Clearly I'm at a disadvantage... I want to add a condition if I win."
Tempest asks Crucabena.
"You're in no position to make changes, but... since I still want you to join, very well. Do tell."
Crucabena allows him to add a condition.
"You will tell me what my Father is planning if I win."
Tempest tells her his condition.
"Very well, well then, take your positions."
Tempest walked to the other side of the table.
'I've endured so much pain in my life, but being shot by a bullet is not something I've experienced... I need to be careful if I want to make it out of this still breathing.'
Tempest thought to himself, as he took a deep breath to compose himself.
Crucabena looked at Hester, signaling him to take his position.
"I-I can't do this Mother..."
"Hester, I won't say it again, you either play the game or I will send you to the Doctor."
Crucabena threatened him, her eyes glaring fiercely. Hester flinched and looked away, then slowly moved his legs to get into position. On the side, Clervie watched with sympathy in her eyes, while Peruere looked unfazed, seemingly accustomed to such scenes.
They were now both in position. Crucabena moved to stand at the center of the side of the table.
"How did I know if the bullet randomizing is not rigged?"
Tempest asked Crucabena, and she simply smiled in response. She then pressed a button underneath the table, causing a section of the table to flip open and reveal three bullets, two duds, and one live round. The table tilted back, and the flintlock, previously in the center, was taken beneath it. It soon reemerged, now held by a small Clockwork Meka with both of its arms.
"Convinced? The Meka loads the bullets in a random order. And do note, Young Lord, you will win every time there are no live bullets left, and if you faint even once, you lose."
Crucabena smiled wickedly.
Tempest's left hand trembled, but he ignored it. Every part of his body urged him to submit to Crucabena, yet his mind remained resolute.
'Win or lose...'
Tempest thought to himself.
"You're first, Young Lord."
Crucabena spoke, and without hesitation, Tempest took the flintlock from the small Meka's arms. He inspected it but found that he couldn't see the bullets clearly, they all looked identical. His gaze then shifted to his opponent, who was shaking uncontrollably.
Tempest, using his right hand aimed the flintlock at Hester, who flinched in response and instinctively raised both arms to shield himself.
"M-Mother I-I can't do this!"
Hester pleaded to Crucabena.
"Dear, don't flinch. The Young Lord might hit your vital parts, or worse, your head. You wouldn't want that, would you? Lower your arms and stand still."
Crucabena warns him, and Hester complies, lowering both his arms slowly. Despite his efforts, he continues to shake uncontrollably.
'Before every shot, I have to analyze my chances. I have exactly a 33.33% chance of shooting a live bullet.'
Tempest thought to himself for a moment before lowering the flintlock and aiming it directly at the palm of his left hand, which was still trembling.
'Don't fail me now.'
Tempest closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, then pulled the trigger.
*Bang!*
Tempest felt a shiver run down his spine as the loud shot of the flintlock echoed through the room. He opened his eyes, expecting to see a hole in his palm, but to his relief, the flintlock had fired a dud. Only smoke emerged from the barrel, and no harm had come to him.
"Bravo! You have the next turn as well, Young Lord."
Crucabena clapped her hands.
The cylinder of the flintlock automatically turned, Tempest then pointed the flintlock at Hester.
'50/50 chance...'
Tempest aimed at Hester's right arm biceps, then pulled the trigger.
*Bang!*
"ARGHHHH!"
Hester clenched his right arm bicep with his left, as blood was pouring out everywhere, he knelt down, tears pouring out of his eyes as he endured the pain.
"Seven hells..."
Tempest looked away at the gruesome sight.
Clervie reached out with her left hand, about to rush to Hester's aid, but Peruere grabbed her right arm. Clervie looked at her in surprise, and Peruere simply bobbed her head in disagreement, indicating that it wasn't worth intervening.
"Congratulations! Young Lord! You win the first round! Since there are no live bullets left!"
Crucabena clapped both her hands and smiled, she then looked at Hester with a look of disappointment, she grabbed a syringe from the cabinet and threw it at Hester.
"You can leave now, go patch yourself up."
"Y-Yes Mother..."
Hester grabbed the syringe, rose from the floor, and fled through the exit, tears streaming down his face as he used his left hand to stop the bleeding.
"Well? How do you feel, Young Lord?"
Crucabena questions him.
"Nothing."
"Is that so? Hm, well then, please return the flintlock in the middle, before we start the next round."
Tempest complied and put the flintlock back in the middle of the table.
"Clervie, my dear, you're next."
Both Clervie and Peruere's eyes widened upon hearing Crucabena's words.
"Wait, let me go first, Mother, I'll-"
"I said, Clervie, Peruere, I'm saving you for last."
Crucabena stopped Peruere before she could finish her sentence.
"Don't worry Perrie I'll... I'll be fine, I promise."
Clervie held Peruere's hand with both her hands and smiled to reassure her.
"Be careful..."
Peruere spoke quietly, and Clervie nodded in response. She then walked to the table, took her position, and drew a deep breath.
"I'm ready."
Crucabena nodded with a smile as part of the table tilted again, revealing three live rounds and three duds. The part then tilted back, and the flintlock was taken beneath the table, reemerging shortly with the small Clockwork Meka holding it.
"Once again, your first, Young Lord."
Crucabena said, Tempest then took the flintlock on the arms of the Meka.
'50/50 again...'
Tempest thought to himself as he pointed the flintlock at Clervie, aiming at her left shoulder. Clervie stood still, her posture unwavering compared to Hester's. Only her right arm trembled slightly, but her expression remained determined.
*Bang!*
"Mmfg!"
"Clervie!"
Peruere rushed toward her, but Crucabena immediately blocked her path with an outstretched arm, shooting her a menacing glare.
Clervie took a few steps back after being hit by the bullet. She raised her right arm in a stop gesture toward Peruere and smiled, signaling that she was fine.
Tempest threw the flintlock onto the table, where it slid to Clervie's side.
'Now it's my turn to be shot... Three duds and two lives left.'
Tempest thought to himself as Clervie approached the table and took the flintlock with her right hand. Despite the pain and bleeding from her shoulder, she showed no signs of hesitation.
She aimed the flintlock at her left palm, mirroring Tempest's earlier action. Both of her arms trembled slightly, and shortly...
*Bang!*
Only smoke came out of the barrel... Dud, in the side, Peruere took a sigh of relief.
"Clervie takes the next round."
Crucabena said.
Clervie then pointed the flintlock at Tempest.
'Ah... Damn it.'
*Bang!*
"Mmgh!"
Tempest grumbled in pain as the bullet struck his left bicep. He began gritting his teeth, using his right hand to clutch the wound instantly.
'Seven hells...'
Tempest thought to himself, enduring the pain as he released his grip on his right arm. Clervie then threw the flintlock onto the table, and it slid over to Tempest's side.
'I'll cauterize it later..'
Tempest thought to himself, as he grabbed the flintlock with his right hand.
'Two duds and one live left... I'd rather shoot myself than be shot by someone.'
Tempest aimed the flintlock at his palm.
'Don't fail me now...'
*Bang!*
Smoke came out of the barrel... But his hand remained uninjured.
"You take the next round, Young Lord."
Crucabena said.
'Once more...'
Tempest once again pointed the flintlock at his left palm. Clervie realized his strategy and her eyes widened, if he shot himself with a live bullet, he could control where it hit to avoid vital areas, but if it was a dud, he would get another chance to shoot her.
*Bang!*
Once again, only smoke came out of the barrel. It was another dud. Tempest couldn't help but smile, adrenaline rushing through his body. It was as if he was actually... enjoying this.
"Fascinating! You're ingenious! Young Lord! Once again you take the next round!"
Crucabena clapped her hands, she was starting to get entertained.
Tempest pointed the flintlock at Clervie, then glanced to the side and saw the murderous look on Peruere's face. His eyes then gazed back to Clervie, who stood resolute despite the bleeding wound on her shoulder. Tempest took a deep breath, the tension in the room palpable. He felt the weight of the flintlock in his hand, knowing that his next move determined the outcome of this deadly game. Peruere's gaze bore into him, filled with a mix of hatred and fear for her friend's life. Clervie, on the other hand, met his eyes with a calm determination.
"Please be gentle with me."
Tempest read her lip-speaking but didn't lower the flintlock.
*Bang!*