Damn Reincarnation

sters.

“I can kill you right now.” Iris pointed her heavy revolver at Eugene.
“It is easier to understand your situation this way, right? Kid, bring the elves who are being protected in your family’s forest to me if you don’t wanna die.
”

“…They wouldn’t want to be dark elves,” Eugene spoke, still looking at Iris.

“I will persuade them until they wish to be one of us.
I am very good at persuading elves into doing so.” She spun her giant revolver.
“How about you? I know you are strong, but are you strong enough to kill me? Well, I know the answer — you aren’t.
You have no chance of winning if you fight against me.”

“…Threatening a Lionheart, huh?”

“Hahaha! You are really naive, like a kid.
Didn’t I tell you just now? To me, the Lionhearts are a bunch of assholes who are deluding themselves, thinking they are still high and mighty as they were 300 years ago.
Your ancestor, Vermouth, was nightmarishly strong, but has anyone as strong as him born in the Lionhearts after he died?”

Without answering, Eugene set his glass to his lips.

“There is no one.
That would be impossible.
Vermouth was a real monster.
Threatening a Lionheart… haha… hahaha! So what? You know, you guys should actually thank me.
I have been respectful toward the Lionhearts.
Or else I would have slammed your heads on the floor!” Iris laughed frantically, her shoulders trembling.
The entire time she laughed, her darkness wobbled, pressuring Eugene with its immense power.

Eugene drank the liquor while feeling his skin tingling and his hair standing on end.
His throat turned hot as if he had swallowed a ball of fire.
That ball of fire warmed Eugene’s body from the inside.

‘I should have killed her then.’ Eugene tightly clenched his fists.

He wasn’t sure how many times he had regretted this matter.
Had he killed her 300 years ago, he wouldn’t have to deal with this fucking bitch now.
Clicking his tongue, Eugene put down his glass.
“…I need time to think.”

“I have given you time since you have stepped into this place, kid.
I let you sit in front of me and gave you a drink.
I have done all that for you while not killing you.
All of that was time given to you.”

Instead of coming up with an answer, Eugene was going through an internal conflict.

‘Should I just fight head-on? What are my chances of winning? Won’t it be better to attack her first and retreat later than listening to her bullshit?’ 

Various thoughts crossed his mind.
Eugene would definitely have gone through with his thought if Lavera and the old man from the shop weren’t here.
The unconscious duo was lying beside him, limiting Eugene’s options.
The situation made him frustrated, boiling up from the inside.

‘Is it not the time yet? I don’t want to get Lavera and the old man entangled in this.’ Eugene thought as he crossed his arms, clicking his tongue.

“…Do you remember Signard?” Eugene decided to buy time for now.
“He is at the Lionheart’s forest, too.
He grinds his teeth every night, wishing to kill you someday.”

“I remember.
He is the elf who is full of vengeance even though he is pathetically weak.
Kid, I don’t like talking about the old time.” Iris spoke discontentedly.

“I have heard a lot about you from Signard, too.
The traitor of elves.
You are the elf who killed the most elves.
Is it true you made your elven prisoners kneel and slit their stomachs? Oh, right.
You also left them to die after you pulled out all of their intestines, am I right?”

“It is ancient history now.
Your parents weren’t even born — no, one of your ancestors must have been a sperm in Vermouth’s testicle at the time.” Iris twisted her lips.
“Of course, I regret my actions during the period.
I went too far, but those regrets give me more reason to make elves lead better lives.”

“You just want to increase the number of dark elves.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to be a dark elf and gain freedom instead of worrying about when they will die from the demonic disease? I’m going to become a Demon King someday.
When that day comes, every dark elf will be revered,” Iris spoke as she turned the revolver’s cylinder.
“Do you wanna talk about the old times with me or something? If you become my friend, I will tell you as much as you want.”

“Who would win if Vermouth and Hamel fought?” Eugene asked out of the blue.

Iris’ giggling stopped for a moment.
She must not have expected Eugene to ask such a random question in this situation.
Her pathetic madness mixed with her rationality.

“…What?” Iris asked, dumbstruck.

“Vermouth versus Hamel.
Who would win?” Eugene calmly repeated.

“You are asking… a random question.
Of course, Vermouth will win.”

“Won’t Hamel win?”

“Hamel… haha! He is an idiot who is called stupid by future generations, so how can that wuss win? You are talking nonsense.”

“You are pretty harsh on Hamel.
He might win, you know.” Mumbling, Eugene picked up the liquor bottle.
“Then I will ask you another question.
Who is more handsome? Hamel or Vermouth?”

“…Are you crazy?” Iris tried hard to not gape.

“I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“It’s not worth answering.”

“You mean it’s hard to choose, right? That must mean Hamel and Vermouth were equally handsome.”

“Hamel was an ugly bastard.
A piece of rugged clothes would be more handsome than him.”

She was being too harsh on Hamel.

Holding back the rising fury inside him, Eugene poured Iris a drink.
“Still, Hamel is more handsome than Molon, right?”

“…What are you doing?” Iris glared at Eugene.

“I’m trying to be your friend.
So, friend.
Why don’t we hang out later? Can you just go home today?”

Thump!

She slammed her right foot on the table, wrecking the table.
The liquor bottle and the glasses flew in the air.
Eugene leaned back to avoid getting drenched in alcohol.

“You are truly something.” Iris looked at Eugene coldly.
“So, a 20-year-old human bastard is acting this shamelessly in front of me, huh? I never thought one of Vermouth’s descendants would act like you.”

“300 years is a long time.” Eugene shrugged.

“Yes, it is a long time for humans.
There must be dozens of ancestors between you and Vermouth in the family tree, right? If that wasn’t the case, I would have considered you a descendant of Hamel, not Vermouth.” Iris muttered under her breath, opening her revolver’s cylinder.
“Since you are having a difficult time choosing, I will help.
Why don’t we have a fun game?”

When she opened the cylinder, the bullets dropped on the floor.
Iris put one of the bullets in the cylinder and spun it in front of Eugene.

“It’s a simple roulette game.
We are going to take turns pulling the trigger.
If the bullet goes through your head, I won’t be considerate of the Lionhearts.
I’m going to bring your body to the main estate right away and bring all the elves with me.”

“What if the bullet goes through your head?” Eugene asked.

“Then I will let you return.
I won’t try to negotiate with the Lionhearts regarding this matter anymore,” Iris spoke as she put her finger on the trigger.
As she put her revolver against her temple, she continued to look at Eugene.

“You can give up now if you are afraid.
But you must bring the elves to me, just like we discussed.
How does this sound? You don’t have to gamble with your life.”

“Shoot.” Eugene crossed his legs as he interlocked his fingers on top of his knee.
“You pull the trigger once, and I pull the trigger once.
That’s how this game goes, right?”

Click!

As soon as Eugene had finished talking, Iris unhesitatingly pulled the trigger and beamed as she handed Eugene her revolver.

“Don’t delude yourself, kid.”

“What?” Eugene asked back.

“I’m saying don’t delude yourself… by thinking a bullet made from lead won’t be able to go through your head.
I created the bullet with my demoneye.
No matter how much mana you have, you won’t be able to stop my bullet from going through your head.”

“Then how about you?”

“I won’t get shot.”

“Aha….
So this wasn’t a fair game from the start, huh?” Eugene pulled the trigger, chuckling.

Click!

The sound of the hammer hitting an empty chamber echoed in the air.
Eugene returned Iris’ revolver to her.

“Shoot,” Eugene spoke concisely.

“Are you out of your mind?” Iris asked in shock.

“Well, it’s true I will die in this game, and you won’t.
But all I need to do is make a bullet go through your head, right?”

“So you will be the only one to bet your life?”

“I said shoot,” Eugene repeated.

Iris was right.
This was a simple roulette game.
If a person put a bullet and spun a gun’s cylinder, an ordinary person wouldn’t know which chamber held the bullet.

But Eugene did.
He checked how many rounds the cylinder had turned.
When he held the revolver, he could feel the bullet’s location by the slight difference in weight.
The bullet was created by Iris’ Demon Eye of Darkness, but it existed like an object, meaning Eugene could feel its weight.

Eugene concluded that the bullet would be fired if Iris pulled the trigger this time.

“…Hmm.” Iris tilted her head sideways and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Another sound of the hammer hitting an empty chamber echoed in the air.
The bullet wasn’t fired.
Instead of being shocked, Eugene burst into laughter.
“Wow, do you really want to win this way?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Iris handed him the revolver with a twisted smile on her face.

It was simple — the bullet’s location had changed.
Since the bullet was made with Iris’ power, she could always make it disappear or appear again.

If Eugene pulled the trigger this time, the bullet was bound to go through his head.

Chuckling, Iris gestured to her dark elves, who were standing behind.
One of the dark elves came up to her and put a cigarette between her fingers.

Iris used her golden lighter to light the cigarette and inhaled the smoke deeply.

“You can give up now,” Iris spoke as she enjoyed the smell of cigarette smoke inside her mouth.
“But I do want to see your brain popping out of your he—”

Before she finished talking….

Boom!

…the door to this basement got crashed.