The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch - Chapter 63

Avena turned slightly and gave “Crown Guard” Nia a glance, but Nia shook her head subtly.

Her duty was to ensure Avena’s safety. If she intervened to save Ciel now, she could certainly get her out of danger, but it would also put Avena at risk. Worse, Deton Manor might even issue a bounty on them afterward.

To Nia, she had no reason to rescue Ciel. Her priority was making sure Avena didn’t do anything reckless.

At that moment, the bald man sitting across from Ciel stared at the ascending banner with wide eyes.

8,000…

That was the betting limit in Death Roulette…

That amount was enough to buy every potion from the “Gambler” path up to the third tier within Deton Manor!

His heartbeat accelerated, his face flushed with excitement. He turned his gaze to the girl sitting across from him and grinned strangely.

“Don’t blame me… You’re the one who walked into this…”

“Dealer!”

“Alright, let the game commence.”

The dealer elegantly drew a black revolver from behind him. The cylinder was covered in a faint honeycomb-like pattern, making it impossible to see whether there were any bullets inside.

“A total of five rounds. Miss ‘Young Lady,’ how many do you choose to load?”

The dealer stood beside Ciel, holding the revolver as he asked.

Ciel took a deep breath.

Even though the arena had been cleaned, the scent of blood still lingered heavily in the air. The metallic tang of iron filled her nostrils, making every breath feel like she was inhaling rusted needles.

“Four blanks, one live round.”

Ciel answered.

“…What?”

The dealer hesitated, momentarily losing his usual graceful composure. He seemed unsure if he had misheard.

“Four blanks, one live round,” Ciel repeated.

“Miss ‘Young Lady’ has chosen—four blanks, one live round!”

The dealer raised the revolver high and announced, “A guaranteed hit!”

His words sent a wave of murmurs through the audience, stirring the growing tension.

Many who hadn’t placed bets rushed toward Baldie’s side, hurriedly buying up betting slips.

A 40% probability with a tenfold payout—no true gambler would pass that up.

After all, Deton Manor’s betting system didn’t adjust in real-time; it offered fixed odds. That meant as long as the bald man won, everyone who bet on him would get paid.

Conversely, if the girl kept winning, the casino would continuously profit.

Deton Manor was about to take a massive loss.

Of course, if any contestant won three rounds in a row, the casino would switch to dynamic odds and start charging a 1% service fee to hedge against losses.

For now, everyone was eager to make a killing on this round.

Die… Die… Die…

Ciel watched as the dealer loaded four blank rounds and a single live round into the revolver. With a practiced flick of his hand, he spun the cylinder, then snapped it shut with a confident flourish.

He pulled back the hammer, reversed his grip, and handed the revolver to Ciel.

“Miss ‘Young Lady,’ please proceed.”

Ciel weighed the revolver in her palm.

Compared to the old revolver she had taken from Solari, this one was noticeably heavier—nearly a third larger in size. It probably had some additional modifications.

She glanced through the glass at the crowd of gamblers.

Their expressions ranged from excitement to greedy anticipation.

She also spotted Avena and Adele, both of whom looked deeply concerned.

Even though the sounds from outside couldn’t reach her, it was obvious that the atmosphere in the hall had reached a fever pitch.

She raised the revolver and pointed it directly at herself.

The dark barrel was empty, revealing nothing inside. Only the faint scent of gunpowder lingered in the air around her.

Ciel’s finger tightened on the trigger.

No change in her vision.

Click—

The hammer struck an empty round. No flash of gunpowder, no recoil.

A blank.

Ciel cocked the hammer again and squeezed the trigger.

No change.

Click—

Another blank.

“Another blank! ‘Young Lady’ has fired two empty shots! Now, does she want to turn the gun on her opponent and force a 50-50 decision?!”

Click—

A third pull of the trigger. Another blank.

“She’s still aiming at herself! Now there’s only a one-in-two chance left! Will she gamble on herself, or will she turn the gun on ‘Baldie’?!”

The dealer’s voice grew animated—this match had reached a critical turning point.

Across from her, Baldie’s forehead was drenched in sweat. His eyes were locked onto Ciel, praying she would hand the gun over to him.

Damn it… This lunatic, why did she pick one live bullet?!

Not even he could survive if that bullet hit his head.

If she aimed at him now, he was as good as dead.

Under his panicked gaze, Ciel did not change her aim.

Yes… Just like this…

“Hit!”

“Kill her!”

“Come on!!!”

The gamblers below were howling louder than Baldie himself, clenching their betting slips in their fists, screaming for the scene they wanted to unfold.

Ciel gently squeezed the trigger.

Click—

Fourth blank.

As the fourth shot left the chamber, the revolver in her hands glowed with a faint blue light. The entire gun vibrated slightly.

Ciel slowly turned the gun toward Baldie and cocked the hammer.

“No… No! Please, don’t! I surrender! I sur—”

Her finger pressed down.

The trigger clicked.

A fiery burst erupted from the black barrel. The glowing blue bullet pierced through the gambler’s forehead.

Splat—

The impact sent Baldie’s entire body crashing against the glass wall, leaving a gruesome red smear as he slid downward. His corpse slumped to the floor, brain matter oozing from the gaping hole in his skull like an overturned bowl of blood-streaked tofu pudding.

No one had expected this outcome.

“Victory! ‘Young Lady’!!!”

Four banners unfurled from above. Below Ciel’s name, the numbers shifted again.

“Young Lady”—8,050.

8,050 pounds!

Baldie’s death stunned the audience into silence for only a moment.

Then, several men rushed toward the entrance of the glass chamber.

“I’m next! Let me in!”

“Me! I’m next!”

“Move, dammit! I was here first!”

The gamblers outside the chamber were already arguing over who would get the next shot.

Meanwhile, Ciel sat calmly in her seat, patiently waiting for her next opponent.

“What do we do, Avena? Should we try to pull Ciel out of there?”

Adele clung to Avena’s sleeve, whispering anxiously.

“No need.”

Avena shook her head gently.

She watched the girl sitting in the chamber, and gradually, her concerns faded.

Ciel… hadn’t lied to her.

She really did know something crucial.

“Wait here for a moment.”

Avena stepped forward, walking straight to the betting counter. From her waist pouch, she pulled out ten gold chips.

Each gold chip was worth 1,000 pounds—a currency only available to VIPs.

“Would you like to bet on ‘Young Lady’ to win the next round?”

The ticket vendor stared, speechless, at the ten shining gold chips.

“‘Young Lady’s’ odds are quite low…”

“It’s fine. Just process the tickets—I’ll take them all.”

Avena waved dismissively, her eyes never leaving Ciel on the platform.

Another game… had begun.