Chapter 142: A Magician's Words Cannot Be Trusted!

But Jin Liangjin was truly a quite shrewd businessman; even if Ling Tingwan were to die, he would still squeeze out the last bit of usable value from her. Moreover, every wound on Ling Tingwan's body involved the participation of representatives from major noble families. Having such leverage invisibly united the entire class.

Ling Wu had been injected with a serum, his whole body stinging and weak. He cried and begged everyone to let him and his mother go. In that sealed laboratory, the faces of everyone there were those of man-eaters.

Fang Kai could not forget Ling Wu's eyes, filled with hatred.

Ling Tingwan was tortured to death.

In the end, the last shred of conscience Jin Liangjin had left led him to take Ling Wu out of that hell. After all, he was his son, with his blood flowing through his veins. But after leaving the research institute, Ling Wu fell deathly ill; that needle of serum had intense side effects. He stood by the hospital bed looking at his young son, the emotions in his eyes complex and unfathomable, until the Rebel Army took control of the school.

Jin Liangjin let Ling Wu go.

He understood that the group of Federation people who took Ling Wu away was a retreat Ling Tingwan had left for the child. After all, when Jin Liangjin first met Ling Tingwan, it was in the Federation.

Thinking of those vows of eternal love, tsk... not worth mentioning.

Ling Wu picked up the Colt M1917 revolver on the table. He took a bullet from his pocket, his slender fingers operating the ejector rod to swing the cylinder out from the side of the frame, and placed the bullet into the chamber. He stood up, his collarbone vaguely visible beneath his smooth-lined neck, and placed the handgun in front of Fang Kai.

Fang Kai's gaze made contact with the pitch-black muzzle of the handgun; his Adam's apple bobbed, and he swallowed his saliva.

Ling Wu sat down calmly and composedly. The warm orange light made the room dim and cramped, the atmosphere thick as ink. A curve appeared at the corners of his lips, his tone languid: "The game has begun. Let's bet our lives."

"This Colt M1917 revolver on the table can hold 6 bullets. We will each fire 3 shots to bet on who will die."

Ling Wu lifted his chin to signal. Davis immediately stood behind Fang Kai, pressed a gun against the back of his head, and pushed hard.

Fang Kai's palms were sweating, his lips mumbling.

"Fine."

Ling Wu grabbed the handgun and aimed it at his temple to fire.

"Click!"

No bullet.

Afterward, Ling Wu's expression relaxed. He turned his palm upward and made a "please" gesture: "Begin."

Fang Kai tremblingly picked up the handgun. This revolver's cylinder could only hold 6 bullets, and the two of them would each fire three times. He took a deep breath; there were 5 chances left, and he could only bet that the bullet would fall to Ling Wu's side.

He hardened his heart, aimed the handgun at his temple, and pulled the trigger.

"Click!"

No bullet.

Seeing this, Fang Kai placed the handgun back on the tabletop and pushed it with force from his wrist. The gun slid across the table in an arc and quickly glided to in front of Ling Wu.

Four chances left.

Ling Wu took the handgun, his fingers gently stroking the frame. He rested one arm on the table, propping up his smooth chin, and looked up at Fang Kai opposite him, saying: "My luck has been quite good these past two years. What about you, Director Fang?"

Amidst the banter, the youth confidently pulled the trigger.

"Click!"

Likewise, no bullet.

His expression was a bit serious, yet carried some pity: "Actually, I don't care about that video you mentioned. I was just bluffing you earlier. Back when we spoke on the phone and you exposed your bargaining chip in your slip of the tongue, the video on your computer had already been stolen and deleted by me."

"It's a pity you were scared out of your wits by me, and while fleeing everywhere, you didn't have time to notice these minor details, right? Have you often dreamed of me coming to claim your life over these years?"

Outside the window, the gale rose again. Lightning, like the might of heaven, illuminated the entire room, only to instantly plunge it back into darkness. The window glass was pelted by the continuous raindrops, emitting a dull sound, like a song composed in a lonely, rainy night.

Ling Wu sighed: "You really are isolated and helpless."

For the first two years, Fang Kai would always dream of that bloody scene. In his ears were the screams of the woman and the child, so heart-wrenching, as if they could tear through the dream to crawl out and strangle his neck again...

But as time passed and Ling Wu disappeared, Fang Kai knew the side effects of that serum. There was no equipment within the Empire sufficient to treat it, so he guessed with peace of mind that Ling Wu was dead.

Sigh.

It's better that he's dead.

Once dead, he wouldn't have to live in fear anymore.

Perhaps because he had done something shameful, Fang Kai began giving free lectures at major universities and doing some charity work, silently donating money to people in the Slums. This numbing life lasted for a long time. Standing in the sunlight for too long, he gradually forgot that he had once been an executioner.

The handgun was pushed in front of Fang Kai. His hand gripping the gun was visibly trembling. He closed his eyes heavily, his mind flashing with images of his family and the honor and applause he had once enjoyed while taking the stage with ease.

Davis urged: "Hurry up!"

"Don't dawdle!"

Fang Kai's index finger turned white as he pulled the trigger.

"Click!"

No bullet!

Fang Kai's expression grew grave. In the next two shots, either he or Ling Wu would definitely die. The ticking of the wall clock made him restless; his feet kept shifting, the speed at which his mouth secreted saliva increased, his spirit became more focused, and he kept rubbing the skin of his thumb web with his fingertips.

This unease rose to its peak as Ling Wu pulled the trigger and there was no bullet!

The fifth shot, no bullet!

Ling Wu lazily threw the gun in front of him: "It seems my luck is indeed quite good. There's only one shot left. After you die, Director Fang, I will send your family down to reunite with you as soon as possible."

The taut string in Fang Kai's brain snapped completely. He quickly picked up the handgun, aimed at Ling Wu's head, and fired!

"Click!"

Outside the window, the rain soaked the world. Ling Wu's eyes held a brilliant smile. He tilted his head and lifted his eyelids; on that cold, clear face bloomed an unprecedented, unrestrained ease. He held the bullet that should have been in the magazine between his two slender fingers. There was no bullet in that gun. He said to Fang Kai with the posture of a victor: "Looking for this? Too bad, you can't trust a Magician's words."