All Worlds Madhouse

"cloth"

"Winner. John Kramer."

The bartender read the ending softly.

All William's fantasies were brought to the bottom at this moment.

"How. How is it possible?" William looked blankly at the darkness in front of him: "No, you are lying! I am the winner!"

The bartender looked at William's hysterical look and just smiled like before: "I'm not lying."

"Then he has no nose and no mouth. How can he still be breathing?"

"Oh, you asked this, the answer is very simple, because his mouth is not completely sealed."

"What?" William was completely confused. : "Why is this happening? Are you cheating?"

"Haha." The bartender shook his head: "I didn't cheat. In fact, it's very simple. It's just that you don't have eyes and can't see."

"Fart, okay, I know he has a [mouth] chip in his hand, but you said that the bet chip can no longer be exchanged for organs. Even if it can be exchanged, then he will lose the chip, then he You should have lost then!" William shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Yeah, he didn't redeem his mouth because he used the chip to bet. However, when he bet, he didn't put the chip on the table. Instead, he put it in his mouth. "

"." William was stunned on the spot.

"Haha, do you understand? Yes, in fact, he just bit the chip between his teeth at the beginning when you were about to seal his mouth." The bartender said: "You who care about the details of words so much should Remember, I specifically said before that chips cannot be damaged, so I had no choice. When sealing his mouth, I could only cross the chip, which unfortunately resulted in his mouth being broken. There is no way to completely seal him, but I didn’t say that the betting chips must be placed on the table, so I can’t just pull the chip out of his mouth, right?”

William seemed to understand what the bartender said, but he was still immersed in an emotion that he didn't know whether he was confused or shocked. He remained motionless for a while: "This... this is not fair. You didn't tell me. I can't see it." !If I could see, I would already know this."

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know you wanted to know this, because you didn't ask, and you gave up your eyes yourself. It's no one else's fault." The bartender responded extremely politely: "Okay, it's almost time. You, It’s time to hit the road.”

"Wait a minute!" William shouted: "I still have something to change, I want to change my ears! I can still gamble again!"

The bartender shook his head: "I'm sorry, you can only redeem it before the results are announced. You should know this, otherwise, Cisse and Gil will not be eliminated."

"Damn it! Idiot! You can't even make this small change? Don't you want to watch people play games? Damn it, then just change it for me. I can still play!"

"I'm sorry, rules are rules, no one can break them," the bartender said, and: "Who are you calling an idiot?"

The bartender's tone became colder, and his eyes that were narrowed into curved slits slowly opened, forming a thin crack. Inside, there was a fire as hot as the flames of hell.

It was a fishy fire originating from an unknown place

William was lucky, he did not see this scene, otherwise, he might have been swallowed up by the fear that burst out from the gap.

However, he is also unfortunate. Haven't he heard the saying "Those who squint are monsters"?

In an instant, a small spark splashed on William's body, and then started to burn along his sleeves.

"Oh my god, what is this? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!"

He shouted in pain, and in an instant, he became a burning straw that could only loosen miserably.

"Well, the loser will go where he should go." The bartender's eyes narrowed again, returning to his original smiling look: "But... I have the final say on how to go."

The fishy fire burned crazily, and after a few seconds, William could no longer make a sound until it turned into dark coke and then scattered into ashes.

"Yeah." The bartender inhaled the smell of the air with enjoyment: "I really made you laugh, but I am not big-minded."

he said

And with these words, John's injuries began to gradually recover.

"Well, Mr. John Kramer, congratulations, you are now the final winner of the game, please tell me your wish. Oh, let me make a blind guess, do you want Ms. Gill, who is Is your wife resurrected?"

John looked at each other coldly.

"No it's not."

The bartender was stunned for a moment.

"People have the right to choose, including their own life and death. If Jill has made a decision, then I have no right to change it without authorization. Resurrecting a person who commits suicide is the same as killing a person who wants to live."

"Hmm, interesting theory." The bartender thought for a while and said with a smile, "Okay, then, what is your wish?"

"I want you to die," John said.

"." There was silence for a while.

"Haha, why is this a request? It's because"

"No, there is no reason. I am a person who should die, just like Jill. I have no nostalgia and no expectations. I want you to die. It's just that I saw Jill disappear from me again. At that moment, I just hated you." John interrupted the bartender softly.

The bartender nodded: "Okay, although it is a bit incomprehensible, but... I can't do what you want. Hehe, you can't imagine how many games I have experienced, so among those countless players, some want to Let me die, but... I am still standing here, so I cannot realize this wish."

"Then I have no wish." John responded.

"Oh, that's not okay, you are the winner, you can't ask for nothing," the bartender spread his hands and said to John.

John stood up and walked to the elevator. At this moment, a button to open the door appeared on the control panel of the elevator.

"This game of yours is too boring. I don't have the heart to think about the wish you mentioned. If you insist on saying one, then I want you to shut up."

John said as he pressed the button and walked into the elevator.

At this moment, the bartender had a confused expression on his face. He looked at the elevator door gradually closing, seeming a little at a loss.

At this time

"Hehe, I really didn't expect that you would be depressed sometimes." A sharp voice came.

The bartender turned around and saw a very unpleasant-looking guy leaning against the wall next to the bar.

This man was wearing a wrinkled purple suit, with a hunched back, and a large, somewhat inconvenient silver pistol hanging from his waist. His sickly pale face had two scars running through the corners of his mouth, but... It's now sewn shut.

"Uh, are you awake?" the bartender asked somewhat depressedly.

"Nonsense, how can I sleep with these people laughing so weirdly?" the man said, his voice sounding a bit like cleaning glass with sandpaper: "Bring me a cup of coffee, add 12 cubes of sugar."

The bartender nodded and walked to the bar, as if he was used to the crazy operation of "adding 12 sugar cubes".

"To be honest, this is the first time I've met someone who doesn't ask for anything."

"Hehe, so you feel as if you stopped at the last second before climax, right?"

"What a disgusting metaphor." The bartender sighed, and soon he piled a cup of sugar cubes on top of the coffee and pushed it in front of the man. The man picked up the spoon, took out a piece of sugar cube that was just soaked in coffee, threw it into his mouth, and started chewing it.

"However, rules are rules. Even if he doesn't want it, I must give it to him! And I must give him the best!"