Staring at the revolver and that single bullet on the gambling table.

Jiang Ran suddenly had an idea.

What if he loaded the bullet now and shot the clown—problem solved.

But then the issue popped up: he didn't know how to load a bullet, and it seemed like he had to disengage some safety to fire?

Another problem: since the clown had the gun and bullet casually tossed in front of him, he probably anticipated this exact thought. There must be countermeasures.

"Fine, let's go with this."

Jiang Ran decided to leave everything to fate!

He had no choice!

So he began to examine the revolver and the bullet.

It was his first time touching a real gun;

it looked about like what he’d seen on TV.

Once he picked it up, he found it much heavier than he had expected.

For now, he couldn't find any visible problem with the gun or bullet—though more importantly, if there were hidden issues he wouldn't be able to tell.

Soon after, the revolver and bullet were pushed back to the clown.

The clown took the revolver and bullet and, with practiced ease, loaded the bullet.

He pushed out the cylinder, placed the bullet in, then pushed the cylinder back in.

Then he frantically flicked the cylinder with his finger so it was impossible to tell exactly where the bullet was.

He handed the revolver to Jiang Ran and motioned for him to flick the cylinder with his finger the same way.

Jiang Ran complied.

While doing so, he watched closely and indeed could not tell which chamber the bullet now occupied.

"Do you want to go first, or should I?"

The clown laughed loudly now;

the laugh seemed deliberately timed to press on Jiang Ran's nerves.

"You go first," Jiang Ran said.

In general, Jiang Ran was an "ordinary person." For a game like this, he preferred the other side go first—after all, this wasn't a contest where whoever took the initiative held the advantage.

The clown took the revolver from Jiang Ran’s hands, made a gesture indicating the cylinder was properly fixed to allow firing.

Then he pulled the safety off.

That meant pulling the trigger would fire the bullet.

The clown gripped the revolver in his right hand and pointed the muzzle at the temple on his right side.

He seemed utterly unafraid of death, eyes wide, face crazed, and with the red clown makeup his expression was particularly terrifying.

Then he pressed the trigger against his temple.

Click.

Only the sound of the cylinder rotating.

There was no imagined loud gunshot—meaning the clown had, by luck, survived.

Having survived, the clown immediately tossed the gun back in front of Jiang Ran.

Jiang Ran’s earlier thought returned.

Now that the gun could fire, should he take it and blast the clown a few times?

There were six rounds;

sooner or later he could hit the clown.

But a new worry emerged: what if the bullet was a blank? That would be weird.

Maybe it really was a blank.

But he couldn't be sure.

In the end, he abandoned that thought.

His right arm trembled;

his whole body was shaking for no apparent reason.

His heart hammered wildly.

Jiang Ran stared at the revolver on the table for a long time before finally picking it up with his right hand and—just like the clown—aiming the muzzle at his own temple.

At that moment he didn't know what his mind was thinking.

His eyes shut tight, teeth clenched, and he squeezed the trigger with all his strength.

Click.

No violent gunshot—meaning Jiang Ran, too, had lucked out and survived.

A relieved smile involuntarily crossed Jiang Ran’s face.

He tossed the gun back to the clown.

A wave of lightness washed through him.

He touched his forehead and discovered it was covered in sweat—so much that one hand felt sticky.

The clown didn’t take the revolver;

instead he applauded Jiang Ran.

"Good, good, good. Brave. I thought you might fire several shots at me and finish me off, but you didn't."

Jiang Ran smiled helplessly: "I was afraid it was a blank."

The clown laughed: "You guessed right. It really is a blank."

Hearing the clown admit it, Jiang Ran felt fully relaxed.

But the clown's next words shoved Jiang Ran back toward the brink.

"Don't think a blank won't kill. Compared to live rounds, blanks do have less force, but firing at the temple can still either kill or leave you gravely injured. There was an actor abroad who joked around with blanks used on set;

the unlucky first shot hit his temple. He was rushed to the hospital and fought for six days—he didn't make it."

The clown then, without another word, took the revolver from the table, pointed it at his temple, and pulled the trigger again.

After firing this shot, the clown laughed wildly and pushed the revolver back to Jiang Ran.

Just like that, Jiang Ran's brief relaxation vanished and he returned to his previous awkward state.

After all, it was his turn again.

He gripped the edge of the gambling table tightly with both hands, eyes fixed on the revolver as his thoughts frantically spun.

He didn't understand why the clown kept pointing the gun at his own temple so casually.

Was he truly unafraid of death?

Or did he already know where the bullet was?

But how could that be possible?

There are no impossibilities in this world.

To Jiang Ran, the gun was a silver-white revolver.

But through the clown’s eyes, the gun glowed blue with faint red light.

The clown was wearing a pair of special contact lenses.

They were specially treated contact lenses.

Earlier, someone had applied a kind of solution to the revolver and the bullet.

This solution had no smell and left no visible trace.

It couldn't be seen with the naked eye, but when you wore those special contact lenses you could see the residue.

That was how the clown knew the bullet's exact position.

Current situation:

The cylinder holds six chambers.

Starting from the first shot:

Numbered: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

Each time the trigger is pulled, the cylinder rotates to the right one chamber.

So far, shots one, two, and three have been fired, confirming those chambers were empty.

Therefore the bullet had to be in one of the remaining 4, 5, 6.

And unlucky for Jiang Ran, the bullet happened to be in the fourth chamber—the very chamber Jiang Ran was about to fire at his own temple.

"Looks like fate has decided you'll die here today."

The clown thought, already waiting for Jiang Ran's death.

Of course, according to his plan, a blank probably wouldn’t kill Jiang Ran outright.

No worries—he would help Jiang Ran end it all, with a power drill. He’d drill through your heart to free you.

Just like Wang Tao back then.

Now Jiang Ran shakily aimed the muzzle at his temple.

He was prepared.

He closed his eyes and, as if it was the first time, tensed his whole body.

His index finger rested on the trigger, ready to squeeze at any moment.

Just as he was about to pull it—

A cold mechanical electronic voice appeared in his mind:

[ Ding. Detected host is about to face a lethal crisis. Consume 100 points. The bullet has been moved to the next chamber. ]

The system's meaning was simple: the bullet had been in position four, and it had now shifted to position five.