Genshin Impact: Watch me turn the tables and kill my servants at the start!

Kujavina wiped the last trace of smudged makeup from her face, casually tucked a stray wet strand of hair behind her ear, and then looked down at Fanes. A playful glint flashed in her icy blue eyes.

"What an interesting little guy."

As she spoke, Kujavina turned and walked to a cabinet on the side of the hall. She opened it, and inside were neatly stacked various items—files, a dagger, a bottle of medicine whose ingredients were unidentifiable, and a revolver.

He picked up the gun with a light and practiced motion, as if it were an ordinary piece of tableware.

"I'll give you a choice."

Kujavina turned around, twirled the revolver in her hand, muzzle down, and even looked somewhat friendly. "Let's play a game. Russian roulette. If you win, it's like nothing happened today, and you can walk out of here as if nothing happened."

Fanes stared at the gun, swallowed hard, and said, "What if I lose?"

Kujavina smiled but didn't say anything.

It's even scarier than you can tell.

Fanes's mind began racing again, spinning at a high intensity of three hundred revolutions per second. Russian roulette, a revolver, loading bullets into the cylinder, pulling the trigger. If he was lucky, it would be over in one shot; if he wasn't... he'd seen it in games from his past life—certainly not a dignified way to die.

"I want six more, fill it up!"

There was a two-second silence in the hall.

Kujavina raised an eyebrow, seemingly processing the six-year-old's request. "...Full it up?"

"Yes, fill it up! Put all six in!"

Fanes straightened his back, his face resolute as if facing certain death. "If we're going to play, let's play something exciting! What's the point of trying them one by one like this?"

Kujavina looked at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed. The laughter carried a hint of unexpected admiration. She actually opened the reel, inserted the six brass bullets one by one, clicked it shut, and the reel spun once, emitting a fine metallic scraping sound.

"Okay, you can go first."

Fanes froze.

His facial expression froze, as if someone had pressed the pause button; his "I'm fearless" aura shattered in an instant. He opened his mouth, his voice at least three tones softer than before: "Um... could we just add one?"

"It's too late."

Kujavina handed him the gun, the butt pointing at him. Peruvieri, standing nearby, watched the scene expressionlessly, while Clementine turned her head slightly, seemingly hesitating whether to cover her eyes.

Fanes reached out his hand tremblingly and took the gun.

The sweat on my palms almost made the gun slip out of my hand.

The revolver felt heavy in his hand, heavier than he had expected. The cool metal pressed against his palm, and Fanes could even feel the silent pressure emanating from the six loaded magazines. He took a deep breath and raised the muzzle—first, pointing it at the ceiling.

boom.

A crisp sound.

Fanes' shoulders jerked from the shock. The bullet pierced the chandelier in the ceiling, and shards of glass rained down like a shower of crystals. He glanced at the smoke billowing from the muzzle, then at the smoking hole in the ceiling, and finally at Kujavina.

"Um... I just want to test if this gun is working properly."

Fanesgan chuckled. "You see, it's perfectly normal. That's good."

Kujavina crossed her arms, raised her eyebrows slightly, and gave an expression that seemed to say, "Keep acting."

Fanes gritted his teeth, raised his gun again, and pointed it at the wall next to him.

boom.

The second attempt. A hole appeared in the wall, and dust started falling down in a flurry.

"Okay, both shots are normal."

Fanes nodded, pretending to professionally inspect the cylinder. "Not bad, not bad, this gun is well maintained."

Then he suddenly pulled the reel open and quickly stuffed in two more bullets—those two bullets were actually taken from the cabinet when Kujavina turned around to get her gun, and he had been holding them in his left hand ever since.

Kujavina's smile deepened as she watched his frantic attempts to rouse him. In her eyes, the six-year-old was terrified and making pointless, death throes. She even relaxed her stance, patiently waiting to see the child burst into tears.

Fanes looked up and met her eyes.

He smiled.

That smile was innocent and harmless, exactly the same expression a six-year-old child would have when receiving a birthday present.

Then he suddenly raised his revolver, aimed it at Kujavina's chest, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

boom.

boom.

Bang bang bang.

Six shots in a row.

The gunshot seemed to blast a hole in the hall, making Fanes' ears ring. The bullets flew in invisible straight lines through the air, and the smoke billowed out, causing him to cough twice.

He only realized what had happened after firing the last shot—oh my god, he really fired! He fired six shots at a woman who had just been playing a game with him, raining bullets on her like they were free.

However, when the smoke cleared and Fanes saw the person standing opposite him, his expression changed from "I won" to "I'm finished."

Kujavina was still standing.

She had indeed been shot—blood trickled down her left arm, staining a small patch of fabric. But she stumbled back less than three steps before the remaining five bullets struck the wall behind her, the floor, and an unfortunate chair. One of the chair's legs was broken, and it lay there crookedly, as if protesting on behalf of its owner.

Kujavina glanced down at her bleeding arm, then looked up at Fanes. There was no anger, no pain in those icy blue eyes, only a chilling, pure surprise.

She didn't expect it.

A six-year-old child dared to turn around and point a gun at the dealer while playing Russian roulette. And he actually fired six shots without hesitation.

Fanes's hands were still trembling.

Looking at Kujavina's still bleeding arm, and then at the empty revolver in her hand, a huge, utter sense of powerlessness suddenly surged up.

"Damn it—"

Fanes' voice cracked, shrill like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, "Six bullets and you didn't kill me! What kind of monster are you! I'll fucking kill you—"

Before he could finish the last word, a long, strong hand had already grabbed his neck.

Fanes was lifted up, his feet off the ground, dangling in mid-air. He clung tightly to Kujavina's wrists with both hands, his short legs kicking weakly in the air, looking like a cat whose fate had been seized by the scruff of its neck.

Kujavina lifted him with one hand, raising him to eye level. Blood dripped from her left arm onto the floor, but she didn't even flinch.

His icy blue eyes met his gaze, the initial surprise vanished, replaced by a more complex murderous intent.

It's like a hunter watching a rabbit that dares to bare its teeth at him.

Fañez's throat was being squeezed, making it increasingly difficult for him to breathe. He began to see stars before his eyes, and with his last bit of strength, he forced out a smile that was more like a grimace, his voice hoarse and broken.

"Um... could... could you try a different... position... that doesn't involve choking...?"