"It's a great delight," Ivan laughed, his voice loud and dull, like a thunderbolt rolling out of his throat, and he opened his hands and made an exaggerated gesture of welcome: "Brave young lady, very brave." Please sit down...... Thank you so much. So," he looked at the teenagers, "there's still a seat, who's coming?" ”

Catherine's face turned white when she heard the "thank you very much", and she had a vague sense that she had done something wrong again—but before she could think about it, Beelzebub and Sasha let go of each other's little fingers, and Sasha winked at Beelzebub and walked over to his father.

"No!" Catherine shouted, "Wait...... Wait a minute. ”

Ivan tilted his angular chin, spread his palms, and showed a cold and stubborn look in his eyes that shone like crocodiles: "What's the problem?" Honey," he pointed to himself: "One," then the brunette and the brunette beside him, "two, three,", and then to Hopkins and Catherine, "One, two, three, one shot each, very fair." He paused, his finger tapping in the air, "Oh," he said, as if suddenly it dawned on him, "maybe you mean identity?" Catherine certainly didn't mean that, she was trying to say Sasha. Hopkins is not yet an adult, and he should not be involved in this cruel game, but Beelzebub standing next to Hopkins. Bisandi was also underage, and Catherine didn't like Beelzebub, but she couldn't say it - let Beelzebub die instead of Sasha, he was a disgusting bad boy, a futuristic thug, an unfinished criminal, but at least for now he was innocent.

"Don't worry," said Ivan, "I swear I don't let any worthless thug or slut get into our sacred gamble—beautiful young lady, and you're the one sitting next to me...... What's it called, oh, the object that the 'Agency' is looking for, just like you, a paranormal being. You have a good son, and I have a good daughter," he grabbed the yellow-haired girl by the neck and forcibly pulled her to his side, putting his face against his face affectionately: "Do you think we are alike?" Somewhat. Or a lot? That's what her mother said, and when she brought this little monkey to me a few years ago, she said she looked exactly like me. ”

Hopkins noticed that the gambling manager's face became a little strange for a moment, and he flipped through the information given by the red-haired Judas in his mind - when the blue-shouldered Ivan gambled in the Heavenly Palace, the objects of pleasure and torture were indeed mainly free prostitutes provided by the Heavenly Palace, but the two women he brought were not pure decorations. Both yellow-haired and black-haired have been treated by the doctors of Heaven Palace - not a cold or dermatitis, of course.

"I think it's better for people like us not to have offspring." Ivan said: "It's too much trouble. It's also too disgusting. But I'm a magnanimous person, and I took this little cub in and raised her for three years. He abruptly pushed the woman away, to be precise. Girl, she almost fell off the stool. She didn't react at all to Ivan's words, and the expression on her face was gentle and numb. Ivan didn't look at her, stretched out two fat palms, and patted viciously on the green and fluffy countertop: "Okay! I think we've wasted enough time, dear Mr. Hopkins, and let's get started—I'll announce the bet—one shot each, but you can pay for that bullet if you want, fifty million a bullet. ”

The bookkeeper opened his mouth, not knowing whether he should announce the bet aloud - the onlookers had almost been cleared, and there were smart people here, and few would come back when they found that the atmosphere was not good.

The overseer was much calmer than the bookkeeper: "I'm sorry," he said to Ivan, "do you really want to make such a high bet?" It was a tact, because Ivan didn't even have a bill or a chip here, and he had to make a bet equal to Hopkins.

Ivan sniffled, "Vodka." He said, "That's right, 200 million," and he used the barrel of his revolver to point to the four men on the other side of the table, "50 million each, four people, 200 million in all." Do you agree with the price? It doesn't matter, if you want to think it's not worth it, feel free to tell me. ”

"I think Ivan? The price given by Mr. Sergeyevich is quite reasonable. Hopkins said, "Please give me a call." ”

The phone was quickly brought in, and the bank's actions were fast, and after verifying the password and identity, a sum of 200 million was transferred to Ivan's account. At that time, Ivan had not even been able to drink a glass of vodka.

"Start with me." Ivan said that he picked up the gun and pressed it against his temple without any delay, and his thick fingers were shoved into the trigger hole, and he pressed the trigger without much effort, and people heard a "click".

Ivan's eyes widened, he put down his gun, picked up his glass, and took a big sip: "Lucky." ”

"Next." Ivan handed the gun to her black-haired companion, sweat pouring from her hair, collecting on her forehead and cheeks, then down the contours of her face, pooling on her neck and jaw, she was not used to using a gun, let alone holding a gun to her head—something that probably no one could get used to, and she barely raised the gun and aimed it at her own head after grinding for several minutes.

"I suggest you put the muzzle of the gun in your mouth, like Hemingway did," Hopkins reminded with kindness and tenderness: "If the muzzle is crooked, it is likely that only part of the skull or cheek will be removed, and the facial nerves are very dense, dear, you will have a terrible pain, and you will not want to die for a short time." ”

The brunette companion, the one who threw an angry and disdainful glance at everyone, pulled the trigger, and the gun shook unexpectedly, the muzzle of the gun shifted out of position, and if the bullet had been in place, she might have ended as badly as Hopkins had predicted - but thankfully, she didn't hit the deadly spade (in poker, spades mean death).

The walnut-handled gun fell from her hand, and Ivan caught it deftly and just in time: "It's your turn," he said, "and good luck to you." ”

The silver-colored weapon swirled towards Hopkins, and Catherine held it down first, picking up the gun sharply, holding it against her temple, and pulling the trigger.

The gun didn't go off, Catherine's fingers moved, and Hopkins immediately raised his hand and gently removed the gun: "One shot, one person, we have to follow the rules." ”

Ivan smiled happily.

Dr. Hopkins took the gun and shot himself nonchalantly, the silver-colored python still silent, hiding its fangs well.

The next one is Sasha. Hopkins.

(To be continued)

n (one second to remember the world)