My Players Are So Fierce – Handsome dog Frank
Chapter 1241 - 419. I want to test my luck against you, the bet is my life that’s worse than death! _3

Chapter 1241: 419. I want to test my luck against you, the bet is my life that’s worse than death! _3

Dust Beater gritted his teeth and said,

"Can we Transian People put up with this humiliation? Just hit them, isn’t that right?"

"Pfft, that’s because you’re young..."

The bricklayer huffed and said,

"When dealing with thugs, you’ve got to be tougher than they are, understand? It’s just like a gang fight. Do you think they’re not afraid because we are?

No!

They’re even more scared.

The rule in gang fights is the more people there are, the less likely they’ll fight because they can’t bear the consequences.

So, you just need to overpower them in terms of momentum and the job becomes much easier.

Watch me!"

The bricklayer straightened his collar and stepped forward, shouting,

"What’s all the noise about? Why is there blood? Who threw the first punch? Stand out and take your twenty lashes, and we’ll call it even!"

"Who the hell are you?"

The provoking officer on the other side, wearing a lopsided uniform and reeking of alcohol, looked down disdainfully at the meek-looking fellow and contemptuously taunted,

"Has Transylvania run out of men? How come a little fat boy without a full beard is taking charge? Go away, go back to drinking milk. I need to talk to your commanding officer about our treatment. I hear you’re pulling our brothers to pave roads and dig trenches?

Fuck!

We’re here to assist you in war on King Louis’s orders, and it’s bad enough without special treatment; how can you even consider making us do such menial work!

We’re professional soldiers!

How could we stoop to digging trenches?

Do you Transian People look down on others?

If you want to play it this way, I can just pack up and take my brothers home, leaving you to fend for yourselves against the Wolf People, then come back to collect your corpses."

"Wow! It’s the first time I’ve heard someone make ’cowardice and avoidance of battle’ sound so pretty. You’re truly talented, making up frictions just to give yourselves a decent excuse to scatter. I’ve overestimated the brains of you rabble soldiers.

Typical Goldenrod People, arrogant and unworthy to even carry Transian People’s shoes, whether in bravery or strategy. You lot would just be a liability on the battlefield."

The bricklayer scorned, which made the soldiers on the opposite side boil with rage.

But before they could explode, the bricklayer suddenly changed his tone. He coughed, drew his revolver, and, under the soldiers’ shocked gazes, ejected the six bullets from the chamber, then inserted a single Burning Gold Bullet and smoothly spun the chamber.

He said,

"Let’s play a game. You think you’re tough and courageous, right? Prove it! If you manage to stay alive, letting you go wouldn’t be a big deal."

With that, the bricklayer, smiling faintly, pressed the gun’s barrel against his own temple under the astonished watch of the soldiers across from him. He wore a mocking smile and bellowed,

"Transylvania is a land of warriors! Cowards can’t survive here. You bunch of fools, let’s see who the Goddess of Fortune favors tonight! Not to brag, but my luck is... Bang!"

The bricklayer hadn’t finished speaking when his head burst open as he pulled the trigger.

The terrifying power of the Burning Gold Bullet blew away half his brain as it entered through the temple, spattering red and white brain matter all over and frightening the rude officer into silence. Then, the headless corpse fell stiffly to the ground amidst the smell of gunpowder.

The whole scene plunged into an eerie silence at that moment.

Not only were the rough soldiers from the Goldenrod Kingdom stunned, but even the foremen from the Stonemason Association were taken aback.

They had only heard that Morphy’s warriors were fierce, but they never imagined they would be this insane.

Dust Beater clutched his eyes in agony.

Through the gaps of his fingers, he saw the feet of the brick carrier who had just killed himself still twitching nervously as he took a deep breath and strode forward.

The swaggering ruffian of a leader immediately stuttered out, "Hey! You saw it, right? This has nothing to do with me! It wasn’t us who killed your man; he offed himself...

Fuck!

Has Transia run out of people?

Why would they put a bunch of lunatics in charge of us?"

"Sigh, I know, I know, this has nothing to do with you guys, no need to worry about anyone troubling you."

Dust Beater bent down, picked up the blood-stained revolver, opened the cylinder to stuff in five bullets, then, with a click, snapped it shut and gave it a twirl.

Full of irritability, he felt he should return to reality to calm down, and this was the perfect opportunity.

So, under the dumbstruck gaze of the opposing officer, Dust Beater pointed the muzzle at his own temple, a strange smile on his face as he said, "My brother died, and now it’s my turn to play with you. What he just said was true: if you all survive in this game, you can return safely to your homeland. We Transia People keep our word...

Click."

Dust Beater pulled the trigger.

The sound of the hammer hitting an empty chamber echoed from the gun, cursing his bad luck in his heart—he had somehow picked the one empty chamber out of six.

Damn unlucky!

Today was indeed his unlucky day, the genteel architect sighed.

In a silence more terrifying than a graveyard, he handed the gun that would definitely kill someone the next time the trigger was pulled—loaded with five bullets—to the trembling ruffian across from him.

He looked at the man with the calmness of utter despondency, as if he were looking at a corpse that was still moving.

He said, "Come on, Goldenrod warrior, it’s your turn to bet on luck. Don’t be afraid, maybe the next bullet is a dud? We cannot deny the possibility exists, right?"

"Fuck! I’m not playing this shit!"

The ruffian didn’t take the gun, cursing out loud, "You Transia People are all a bunch of lunatics, but we aren’t! We’re normal people, I’ll obey..."

"You say you won’t play and that’s it? Who gave you such a freedom bordering on arrogance?"

Maxim’s chilling voice sounded from behind.

Followed by the sound of flapping Blood Wings, the midnight General descended from the sky, black blade in hand, holding a dozen heads bundled together, belonging to deserters from the night before.

As blood dripped to the ground, Monster General’s gaze fixed on the retreating ruffian in fear, he said, "Transia has already lost a precious life due to your foolishness. You started this strife, but only we can call its end. All of you seemed so confident in challenging us, surely you were prepared to meet your eternal rest. As such, I’d be delighted to escort you on your journey to Hell.

Everyone will learn from this lesson!

And this is the last meaningful act your worthless life can perform, take it!

I said, take the gun!

Then, pray to your god and your pitiful fate."