Chapter 6243: Chicago Memories (12)_2

The last Bruce really couldn’t stand it anymore. He walked over directly and pushed the body of the person under the sofa to prevent the person next to him from holding a bottle and pouring it into his mouth. The man immediately became agitated and was about to say something when Brian gave him a look, also giving Bruce a warning look.

Bruce’s patience was really running out. He had paid too much for the free dorm, and these drunkards quickly finished drinking. He needed to go back to sleep because classes officially started tomorrow; there was not much time to accompany these people messing around.

But just then, Brian stood up, and the other people also stood up. They hadn’t drunk much, sometimes dodging it, sometimes someone helped to block the drink. Now, the only ones sober were these few core leaders, a group of shivering freshmen, and Bruce.

“The real celebration is about to begin.” Brian clapped and said, “Come with me, children. We need to play something truly thrilling!”

After speaking, he led the people inside. The freshmen looked at each other; at this point, the sunk costs could no longer be abandoned. They knew that once they passed the final initiation ritual, they would become members of the Brotherhood, striving for this moment with no reason not to go.

So they followed. Bruce thought he was at the back of the line, but he heard footsteps behind him, realizing that the Pink Rabbit was behind him. For some reason, Bruce felt a chill down his back.

But before he could think it through, Brian had already opened the door to the basement. The light inside was very dim, mainly lit by candles. There was a long table in the middle, surrounded by chairs, some sofas along the walls, looking much more luxurious than outside.

“Bring in the roulette. Party babies, everyone is counting on you.” Brian ordered.

The Pink Rabbit turned to get the roulette, and Bruce also walked into the basement. The Pink Rabbit soon arrived. Once everyone was inside, Brian’s subordinates went over and locked the door.

“You are my carefully selected potential new members, unlike that group of idiots outside. Let’s go one by one.” Brian shook his head, “Bruce Wayne, I’ve spared you many times; don’t you plan to say thank you?”

“What do you want to play?” Bruce’s tone was so calm that it didn’t resemble a disguised him. Once the room door was locked, society was excluded outside, and disguises could be removed. Batman disguised as Bruce Wayne was Batman, disguised as Clark Kent also.

At this moment, even the dumbest people sensed something was wrong. Brian stared at him. Bruce casually walked to the other side of the long table, standing opposite Brian, glancing with disdain at the roulette held in the Pink Rabbit’s arms. “You gathered us here just to play these soft games?”

Of course, Batman was not just Batman but also the Joker; beneath the disguise was another layer.

Brian’s face immediately turned somewhat ugly, obviously feeling his authority challenged. Just as he wanted to say something, Bruce took the initiative. “There’s a revolver in the lounge; you hang it there just to let it watch you and a bunch of fools drink into a muddy puddle?”

“Bastard!” Brian cursed, “Do you think you’re someone? A damn country bumpkin; soon I’ll make you…”

“Go get the gun.” Bruce used a commanding tone entirely, “Or you’re actually inferior to this country bumpkin, only capable of poking fingers into cream cake instead of a gun trigger.”

Brian’s face reddened again, and his lackeys immediately started hurling insults, but it didn’t affect Bruce. As if to establish his authority, Bruce randomly pointed someone out and said, “Go get it! Bring the gun!”

The person was a little embarrassed but still went. It took quite a bit of time to get the gun from the display case, but in the end, the gun was placed in front of Brian.

“Load it.” Bruce raised his chin.

Brian seemed to realize what Bruce was going to do; his pupils shrank, and the muscles on his face trembled slightly. The people around clearly understood, too, knowing this was a revolver, and the only game to play with it was Russian roulette.

Brian seemed enraged, grabbed the revolver, loaded one bullet into the chamber, spun the chamber, closed it, then placed the gun on the table and violently slid it across to Bruce.

“You go first.” Brian said.

Bruce pressed down on the gun, picked it up without touching the chamber, then pointed the barrel at his temple.

Everyone became tense, staring intently at Bruce.

“Click.”

The sound of the wheel turning.

Everyone immediately sighed in relief. Even though every year someone dies, they never do from a gunshot to the head; most are alcohol poisoning, or they drink too much and fall into the lake. Facing such a bloody scenario takes courage.

“Haha, you fool.” Brian raised his voice, slapping the table, “You thought I’d play this kind of…”

“Click.”

Bruce pulled the trigger again. The sound of the wheel turning was light but like thunderstorm rain at night, exploding in everyone’s ears. Brian’s voice stopped abruptly. Those blue eyes sank into the dark like solitary will-o’-the-wisps.

“No…” Someone said instinctively.

“Click.”

The third shot. From the moment his finger exerted force to the moment the wheel sounded, that one second felt like an eternity to everyone. They began to shake, emitting silent screams.

“No! Stop!!!” Brian was roaring. He wasn’t trying to save anyone’s life; he just didn’t want to be underscored as a real softie.

“Click.”

The fourth shot. When the wheel sounded, the person standing beside collapsed, hands clutching the table edge, some even howling due to excessive fear.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Bruce said softly, as if he was not holding a weapon that could kill him anytime, “God bless me.”

“No!!!!” Accompanied by Brian’s angry roar was another sound of “click.”

Five chambers empty.

Bruce removed the gun from beside his head and then slowly raised it, aiming it at Brian across the long table. Behind the gun barrel was a face full of fear.

“Bang!”

Brian, along with the chair, suddenly tilted backward, crashing heavily onto the ground. After stiffly curling for two seconds, he turned his head with great fright to look at the balloon exploded beside him.

Bruce chuckled: “Don’t be nervous, just a joke.”