Chapter 552: Chapter 552

Chapter 552:

“Unbelievable, how can they all be so lucky?” one voice muttered.

“Why are those three so composed, while Melany looks ready to pass out?” another chimed in. “The odds just keep getting worse!”

Before the noise could die down, Amor’s voice cut through the murmurs with cold amusement.

“This is getting dull. The audience outside is waiting for something more… engaging. Why don’t we point the guns at each other?” Her voice carried a chilling madness.

Melany shot up, her palms slamming against the table. “Absolutely not!” The pulse thrummed loudly in her ears as dread coiled around her.

She couldn’t stomach leaving her fate in anyone else’s hands. Yet, Allison glanced up, her gaze unwavering.

“I’m in,” she said, her tone steady.

Kylo, who had been listening with a hint of a smirk, lifted his eyes lazily and said, “I don’t mind either.”

Melany’s mouth went dry.

Were they all insane?

But the inevitability of the moment pressed on her like a weight, leaving her no room to refuse.

“The majority’s decision is final,” the dealer announced.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy.

“Now this is the thrill of life and death!”

“Remember, when a gun is aimed at your head, only the strongest can withstand the pressure. Anyone who falters will crumble, mind and body alike.”

“Exactly. This is all about mental warfare. The first to yield is the real loser.”

The crowd’s chatter flared into an excited hum, each voice overlapping the next in a chaotic chorus.

Meanwhile, the dealer calmly polished the revolver, its metallic surface gleaming under the dim lights. With an air of cold professionalism, he placed it back on the table, signaling that the deadly game was far from over.

The new death game had commenced, and the spotlight fell squarely on Melany as her turn approached once more.

Every eye in the room zeroed in on her.

She gripped the edge of the table for support, trying to steady herself as her legs quivered and a fresh sheen of sweat covered her back, which had only just dried.

“I… I believe in myself,” she whispered under her breath, forcing her courage to the surface.

Melany exhaled shakily, repeating silent affirmations as she reached for the revolver, its metallic coldness pressing into her already clammy palms.

The faint, metallic scent of blood lingered, perhaps from when Amor had handled it before.

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