He exhaled sharply， staring at the arrogant boy across from him.“Rock-paper-scissors.”
Seeing Ryker’s desperate resolve， Jax smiled.
That smile sent a chill down Ryker’s spine. A bad feeling exploded in his chest. No…
The devilish whisper came.
“Still not enough.”
“Holy shit! Five bullets?! What mushroom messed him up this bad?!”
“Jax is trying to get himself killed!”
Even the two district leaders stared in shock. They’d seen hundreds of Roulette games， even played when they were younger， but never anyone crazy enough for five bullets.
Five bullets. Almost certain death.
“I see now. You’re not here to play Roulette. You’re here to kill yourself!” Ryker was sure Jax had lost his mind.
Five bullets pushed his win rate below 60%. It crossed his hard line.
“If you won’t play， hand over the artifact.”
Talan’s eyes lit up. He quickly yelled.“Right! Hand it over if you’re too scared!”
The East District men roared in agreement.
Ryker hesitated. Viper snapped from behind:“Don’t fall for it. He’s trying to scare you into quitting. Keep playing. Let him shoot first. He’s no cheater. Five bullets， I don’t believe he survives!”
The gun pressed harder into his back. Cold metal pierced his shirt， making his hair stand on end.
“Fine. I’ll play. But…” Ryker wanted to take Viper’s advice and let Jax shoot first…
But he backed out. He hated leaving his fate in someone else’s hands. What if Jax got impossibly lucky， survived one shot， and he was dead for sure?
He trusted his years of sleight of hand more.
Ryker loaded the fifth bullet. Only 30 seconds left until midnight.
In those final 30 seconds， Jax shocked everyone one last time.
“Not enough.”
Chaos erupted. The crowd thought their ears were broken. Five bullets wasn’t enough?!
A revolver only held six. Loading all six? Certain death!
Ryker stared in disbelief.“Are you even listening to yourself? This isn’t gambling—”
He never finished. Jax was already standing beside him.
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The grubby boy reached out， took Breath of Bone from his hand， and picked up the final bullet.
10… 9… 8… 7…
Jax counted down in his head. His eyes， burning with reason and wildness， swept over the crowd.
“I’ve never been lucky. I don’t think I can win round after round until the artifact accepts me. So， I’ll end it in one shot.”
He slid the sixth bullet home.
Click.
Cylinder locked， round chambered.
Under everyone’s gaze， Jax slowly lifted the fully loaded Breath of Bone to his temple. The dark red veins on the gun squirmed， burrowing into his hand like tiny snakes.
Everyone watching thought he’d lost his mind. This wasn’t gambling.
It was suicide.
Nice try saying you’re unlucky， so you’ll bet it all in one go. Is that even human logic?
Staring at the stunned crowd， Jax suddenly grinned， showing his sharp， white teeth.
“Six bullets. I bet it misfires.”
The crowd was dumbfounded. They’d never heard anything so absurd.
Since when was Roulette of Fate played like this?!
Under their horrified stares， Jax squeezed the trigger.
Women and children covered their ears. People ducked， afraid of getting splattered with blood.
3…
2…
1!!
The countdown hit zero. Midnight struck!
Dong!
In the endless night， in a dimension no one could see， a huge， golden clock surfaced beneath Jax’s feet， spreading over the entire land.
He stood alone atop it， like a traveler abandoned by time.
At the same moment， the crowd， trees， buildings， even the sky， everything vanished， as if wiped away by a god’s hand. Only golden clocks of all sizes remained.
The physical manifestation of all things’ time.
Every clock， for every person and object， pointed to 12:00.
Except，
The giant clock beneath Jax read 12:01.
That was his own time. One minute more than this world.
Feeling his power return， Jax activated his ability without hesitation.
Time， Stop!!
Buzz—
An eerie time ripple washed over everything.
The world hit pause.
The noisy square went dead silent. Everyone froze like statues. The shock in Ryker’s eyes was locked in place.
Secondhand smoke from his nose hung frozen in the air， not moving an inch.
In this completely still world， only one thing moved:
Jax.
The boy who’d just worked a miracle moved at lightning speed the second time stopped， yanking open Breath of Bone’s cylinder to dump the bullets.
“Hurry! Hurry! Can’t waste a second! Time is life!”
Ever since learning he only got one minute a day， he’d treasured every second. He’d done the math.
One minute a day. 365 minutes a year， six hours and five minutes. Ten years? 60 hours.
He was 16. Living to 56 in the Wasteland was a miracle. 40 years. Only 240 hours total.
240 hours was， TEN DAYS.
When Jax calculated he only had ten days of power his entire life， he truly understood what time is life meant.
His hands were too dirty， nails too long. He fumbled several times and couldn’t pry the bullet out.
“Move! Come on!!”
Panic flooded him.
He hadn’t panicked in the deadly Cataclysm world.
He hadn’t panicked playing Russian roulette with his life.
But now， knowing seconds were slipping away? He was terrified.
Those weren’t seconds slipping away. They were his life.
Finally， on the fourth try， the bullet popped free.
Jax exhaled in relief and shoveled the bullet into his pocket.
He only removed the live round about to fire， making the next shot empty.
He wiped sweat from his forehead， then fixed his posture.
Pressed the gun back to his temple， calmed his expression， and made his grin match exactly how it was before. Then he lifted Time Stop.
Release!
Buzz—
The time ripple faded. The world started moving again. No one knew time had ever frozen. All eyes stayed locked on Jax.
To them， Jax had smiled calmly and pulled the trigger. The raw confidence radiating from him stunned everyone.
The revolver’s trigger contracted， pulling the hammer back and compressing the spring. At the end of the trigger pull， the hammer snapped forward.
It slammed into the firing pin.
Click!
A sharp， empty sound. No gunsmoke. No muzzle flash. No bullet.
Nothing.
Only Jax’s unchanged， confident smile.
