"Death Wheel?"
Sabo looked at the silver revolver. Only one of the six magazines was loaded with a bullet.
"You should know the rules of the game, right? You hit, I hit... Actually, I think the probability of this thing is only 50-50. Either you die or you live."
Lorenzo muttered to himself as he placed his revolver in the middle of the table, facing the cards laid out by Sabo, like a lone rider facing an army of thousands.
"Actually, I don't have to play with you."
Sabo suddenly shook his head. This was his kingdom and he had an absolutely dominant position. Lorenzo was just a pawn and could be easily crushed to death.
"No, you have to."
It was another gun, with delicate textures carved on the wooden body, patterns carved on the silver part, and a line of poetry written in it.
Eve looked at the gun almost in a daze. She believed that there was not enough space under her skirt to hide the gun, so where did Lorenzo get it
But Lorenzo didn't seem to intend to explain this. The dear Winchester was pointing at Saab. The distance was so close that as long as Lorenzo pulled the trigger, Saab's head would explode into a ball of blood in front of his eyes.
"Is this what you originally thought?"
"Yes, I will find you and put a gun to your head, but this is very risky. You are the boss of Green Shark. I am not sure I can get out alive. But you don't want the business you have been running for so long to stop, right?"
Lorenzo's eyes were cold.
"So don't let us waste time Sabo, if I win tell me everything, if you win I will leave now."
Sabo's expression gradually turned cold. It was not a fun thing to have a gun pointed at your head in your own territory. But after a brief pause, he showed that confident smile again.
"No, the chips are not enough."
"What about adding these?"
Lorenzo rested his elbows on the table, confident.
"Did you put your hands down?"
His hands were ordinary, with black cuffs lined with a white shirt, and scars of injuries could be seen on the slightly exposed skin.
"The gambling table is full of chips."
He replied.
This time, Sabo finally looked the man in front of him squarely. He was different from many people he had met. He was as strange as a pearl in the sand, with boiling blood under his black coat.
Without saying much, Sabo knew very well that he had no choice but to join the game, otherwise the man in front of him would definitely pull the trigger. He didn't care whether he could leave alive or not, he would definitely do it.
"I hate people as persistent as you."
Picking up the revolver, Sabo stared at the man in front of him, his finger already on the trigger, waiting for his reaction, but the eyes under the brass mask were calm, which reminded Sabo of the northern waters, where the sea surface is always as calm as dead water, but the bone-chilling cold when you touch it is more terrifying than any storm.
"I have played this game many times. The essence of this game is not luck, but the degree of fear of death. If you are afraid, you lose."
Sabo said as he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Cold sweat ran down the gaps in his mask, but Sabo remained calm. He then placed the revolver in the middle of the table.