He tried to save the fallen girls, but they came after him instead.

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In this city, the Xinggong family is both the legitimate and criminal worlds. They operate legally and control finance and many industries. After Xinggong Xi took office as the head of the Xinggong family, he became even more ruthless, constantly acquiring industries and expanding his conglomerate.

The dark part is Matsushima. Rather than black, it's more like gray. Matsushima's Takesakura Association mainly deals in private lending and transactions related to sex.

Of course, in Japan, the sex industry is considered a gray area, and as long as it's not too conspicuous, it won't be severely cracked down on.

Matsushima's Nagasaki Club has powerful backers and is frequented by many influential people, which is why this place can operate safely.

Both the Hoshimiya Foundation and the Takesakura Association are among the strongest groups in their respective territories. Although Matsushima and Hoshimiya Shio dislike each other, neither of them would rashly start a war, as a mutually destructive conflict would not benefit either side. However, they overestimated themselves and wanted to take action against the head of the Hoshimiya family.

Although they were just guests at the Nagasaki Club, they were discussing their plans there. If that madwoman Hoshimiya found out, a life-or-death battle between them would be inevitable.

"Who gave you the audacity to dare to lay a hand on the head of the Xinggong family?"

“I definitely wouldn’t dare,” the blond senior pointed at Shirakawa. “He’s the one who bewitched me. He’s the mastermind behind everything. It has nothing to do with me. I was just a pawn he used.”

The blond-haired senior quickly distanced himself from the situation.

"Is he telling the truth?" Yoshiko Matsushima asked.

"Actually..."

"Don't explain to me, I'm just asking you, is he telling the truth?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Matsushima swung his revolver, revealing its empty magazine.

If it were someone else who did this, she would have killed him long ago.

But Matsushima also saw Shirakawa give money to the innocent junior and let her go. Judging from this action alone, he shouldn't be the kind of wicked and cunning villain.

Moreover, Suzuki Yoshiko seems to be on good terms with him, and the two interact quite a lot. Matsushima also knows that Suzuki has a thing for young boys, so shooting him here would make the aftermath quite troublesome.

What to do with him?

Matsushima was deep in thought.

I've got it, let's use that trick.

"Wait a minute, about Hoshimiya Shio..." Shirakawa was about to explain.

"Hey~ wait, you don't need to say anything more." Matsushima interrupted him, pointing at the group of bodyguards, "Get a chair, I want to play a game with him."

"Yes."

Games? Playing games?

The bodyguard moved a chair and placed it opposite Matsushima, then lifted Shirakawa, who was kneeling on the ground, and put him in the chair.

"Shirakawa, I'll give you a chance." Matsushima took a bullet out of his pocket, put it in the magazine of his revolver, and flicked it with his hand, letting it spin continuously.

"Don't you like gambling? Didn't you win 1800 million from that Suzuki? Then let's make a bet too."

"What are you gambling?"

"A gamble with your life!"

189. Russian Roulette

"A life-or-death gamble?" Shirakawa exclaimed in surprise.

"That's right, have you heard of Russian roulette?"

"I've heard of it, but no, sister, I'm just an ordinary high school student. You don't need to play this big game with me, do you?" Shirakawa looked at the exquisite revolver and felt a sense of fear.

Why play this deadly game when you have nothing better to do?

"Either play or die!" As soon as Yoshiko Matsushima finished speaking, the bodyguards behind Shirakawa all pulled out their guns and pointed them at him.

"Okay, okay, I'll play, I'll play." Shirakawa wasn't too flustered.

He was pretty sure the revolver had been tampered with and couldn't fire a single bullet.

It's a very simple logic: a female gang leader betting her life against a high school student? That's pure nonsense!

The stakes on both sides of the gambling scale are completely unequal. If Matsushima is playing this game purely for fun, unless she is a chosen one who wins every time, she wouldn't have survived to this day.

Matsushima smiled slightly at Shirakawa's completely unperturbed demeanor.

It was as if he had seen through all of Shirakawa's thoughts.

"You don't actually think you're qualified to play with me, do you?"

"Ah, didn't you say you'd play with me?" Shirakawa had a vague sense of foreboding.

Matsushima stood up and stepped aside, then gestured for his bodyguard to forcibly pull up the trembling blond senior who was kneeling on the ground and push him into Matsushima's seat.

"You're going to gamble with him."

It's over. Shirakawa rarely showed such a look of horror.

"Didn't you say you wanted to bet with me?"

“Yeah, I let this guy gamble with you in my name, so what? Is there something wrong with it?” Matsushima laughed heartily.

Shirakawa was tricked.

"No, no, Matsushima-san, let me go! Call the principal, he... he'll protect me!" The blond-haired senior was already trembling with fear and stammering.

"You're playing this sacred game in my name, and you don't feel honored at all?" Yoshiko Matsushima kept smiling, but that smile always carried a dark and ruthless undertone.

"I, of course, am honored, I~"

"It's an honor, of course you can also choose to forfeit, and this guy will be considered the winner. I will personally load this revolver with bullets and blow your little head out of shape with one shot." Matsushima gently poked the blond senior's head.

"I...I'll play," the blond-haired senior replied in a trembling voice.

“Alright, since both sides have ‘voluntarily’ participated in this game, let me briefly explain the rules.” Matsushima sat on the side of the table, between Shirakawa and the blond-haired senior.

The bodyguards took out several transparent riot shields from outside and set them up around Songdo and in front of him.

It was clearly to protect her safety and prevent the two of them from impulsively shooting at Matsushima.

Matsushima flicked the magazine of his revolver, showing the two men the bullet inside.

“Participants take turns pointing a pistol at their own head and pulling the trigger. The last one standing wins. Of course, if you dare to point your gun at the wrong place, my bodyguards will take you out with one shot. And I’m going to add an extra rule.” Matsushima paused mysteriously, “If anyone makes me happy while you’re playing, I might consider ending the game.”

How do I cheer her up? Should I tell her a corny joke?

Shirakawa suppressed his inner panic and thought carefully.

After Matsushima finished speaking, he forcefully turned the magazine, which spun continuously, producing a creaking metallic sound.

With a flick of the wrist, the magazine returns to the gun. No one knows where the bullet will fire, but you'll find out after a while.

Shirakawa took a deep breath; the situation was now completely out of control, and his heart was pounding.

From then on, it's all down to luck and fate.

The blond-haired senior across from me was also moved to tears by fear.

Matsushima tossed the revolver through a gap in the riot shield and placed it in the center of the table.

The two men looked at the gun, but neither had the courage to be the first to raise it.

"Hey, since this guy has connections with the principal, let him go first. After all, the chance of being shot first is only one in six, so the chance of surviving is five in six!" Matsushima chuckled, completely unconcerned about who would lose the match first.

The blond-haired senior picked up the pistol shakily, and looking at the dark muzzle, he couldn't help but swallow hard.

He could feel the coldness emanating from the muzzle of the gun when he pointed it at his forehead.

Perhaps out of fear of dying a gruesome death, or perhaps out of fear of not dying quickly enough and suffering agonizingly, he raised the gun again and pointed it at the side of his head.

He hesitated repeatedly, reluctant to fire.

Just then, Shirakawa muttered to himself, "No matter what, no matter who goes first or last, our chances of survival are still one in two."

"What do you mean?" Matsushima raised an eyebrow slightly.

"From the start of this game, it was destined that one of us would die; it was just a matter of sooner or later."

"Wait a minute, isn't there also a probability problem involved?"

Matsushima clearly doesn't have much education.

“We take turns firing. To put it another way, it’s like we each choose three positions from the six-round magazine of a revolver. Whoever chooses that bullet will die,” Shirakawa explained.

"Hahahaha! Even now, you still have the mind to think about this? That's hilarious." Matsushima laughed so hard she almost fell over. It was the first time she'd ever seen someone so witty while playing such a life-or-death game.

Then look at that blond kid, he's so scared he's about to wet his pants, his brain must be short-circuited.

"Look, I've made you laugh, will you let us go now?" Shirakawa asked.

“This doesn’t count as being happy. How can my smile be considered happy?” Matsushima was clearly going back on his word. “However, the difference in your mental fortitude is a bit too great. It seems I’ll have to help the blond guy out.”

The bodyguards began searching Shirakawa, taking out pills wrapped in a small plastic bag and a small glass bottle of eyebrow powder from his body.

Just as the bodyguard was about to open the plastic bag and force-feed it to Shirakawa, he was met with strong resistance from Shirakawa.

"I won't take it, there's something wrong with this medicine!"

"What is the problem?"

"This drug is addictive; it will destroy a person's spirit."