52: Chapter 52 The Mad Clown

Lin Long took a cold, gleaming revolver from a mercenary. The chill of the metal transmitted through his fingertips, but it only made the smile beneath his mask grow more frenzied.

At that moment, Tetsuji Tomizawa suddenly collapsed because the wound on his leg made him lose his balance.

He subconsciously grabbed the tablecloth on the dining table.

"Clatter!" He pulled the tablecloth along with all the tableware on top of it onto the floor in one go.

The noise caught Lin Long's attention.

Playing with the gun in his hand, he walked step by step toward Tetsuji Tomizawa, who was slumped on the floor. The sound of his leather shoes stepping on the carpet was exceptionally clear in the dead silence of the banquet hall, like the footsteps of the Grim Reaper.

"Wow~ wow~ wow~"

Lin Long's voice came through the mask, carrying an exaggerated sense of mockery.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

"Respected President Tomizawa, it seems the injury to your leg hasn't made you understand yet—disrespecting me comes with a price."

He motioned for two mercenaries to step forward. They roughly hauled Tetsuji Tomizawa up and pressed him into a chair.

Tetsuji Tomizawa bared his teeth in agony from his leg wound, but he didn't even have the strength to struggle. He could only look in terror at the demon wearing the Joker mask before him.

Lin Long pulled over a chair for himself and sat down opposite Tetsuji Tomizawa, with a round table between them.

He placed the revolver on the table, opened the cylinder with a "click," and dumped out all six bullets inside.

"Ding-ding-dong—"

The brass-colored bullets fell onto the smooth tabletop, making crisp sounds. In this oppressive space, they felt like a heavy hammer striking everyone's heart.

Lin Long slowly picked up a single bullet, inserted it into the cylinder, and then gave it a sudden spin—

The cylinder spun rapidly, making a whirring sound before abruptly stopping under his palm.

He snapped the cylinder shut with a "click" and pushed the gun to the center of the table, exactly halfway between them.

"President Tomizawa, let's play a little game."

Lin Long's voice carried a strange excitement.

"The rules are simple—there is only one bullet in this gun right now. We take turns firing a shot at ourselves. Whoever is unlucky enough to be hit loses."

He paused, counting on his fingers:

"Six chambers, one bullet. So the probability of the first shot is 1/6, the second shot is 1/5... Very fair, right?"

Tetsuji Tomizawa's face was as white as paper. Looking at the black revolver on the table, it was as if he were seeing a death-summoning curse.

His whole body shook like a leaf, his lips trembled, and he couldn't utter a single word.

"Don't be nervous."

Lin Long chuckled and pointed toward the rostrum.

"I'm a man of my word. If I lose and get shot, my men will withdraw immediately. We won't linger, and certainly won't seek revenge on anyone."

His tone suddenly turned icy: "But if you lose..."

Everyone followed the direction of his finger. On the rostrum that had been empty just moments ago, five people were now kneeling—Tetsuji Tomizawa's three sons (Tomizawa Yuzo, Daji Tomizawa, Fuzawa Taichi), his illegitimate son Fuzawa Seiji, and his wife!

A mercenary stood behind each of them, the dark muzzles of their rifles pressed firmly against the backs of their heads.

Mrs. Tomizawa was already scared out of her wits, shivering on the floor. Although Tomizawa Yuzo's face was also full of fear, he forced himself to glare at Lin Long. Daji Tomizawa and Fuzawa Taichi were crying out "Dad, save me," showing their pathetic state.

"If you lose the bet,"

Lin Long's voice carried a hair-raising madness.

"Don't worry about being lonely—I'll send your whole family down to join you! Hahaha..."

The piercing laughter echoed in the banquet hall like countless needles, making people's eardrums ache.

Everyone was chilled to the bone by these cruel rules—how was this a game? This was clearly an outright massacre!

Tetsuji Tomizawa looked at his family on the rostrum and then at the gun on the table; he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

He knew he had no choice. But that gun felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His hand reached out trembling, then pulled back, repeating this several times, never daring to pick it up.

"It seems President Tomizawa wants to forfeit."

Lin Long shook his head with feigned regret and snapped his fingers toward the rostrum.

"Bang!"

A gunshot rang out, crisp and decisive.

Fuzawa Seiji's head jerked back violently as a spray of blood erupted from his forehead, splashing the backdrop behind him red.

His body slumped to the ground. From the bullet hole in his forehead, a red and white fluid slowly flowed out, emitting a pungent, bloody stench.

"Ah—!"

Mrs. Tomizawa on the rostrum let out a shrill scream and fainted on the spot. The Tomizawa Yuzo brothers were also pale with fright, their lips turning purple.

The guests in the banquet hall reacted even more violently—some screamed and covered their eyes, some vomited uncontrollably, and some fainted outright from fear.

Mouri Ran gripped Conan Edogawa's arm tightly, her face pale and her whole body shaking.

"Seiji!"

Tetsuji Tomizawa's eyes turned red instantly as he looked at his illegitimate son lying in a pool of blood. Although he had never acknowledged this son in public, they shared the same blood. Seeing him die so miserably, only boundless fear and rage remained in his heart.

"Now, are you willing to play?"

Lin Long's voice was like a poisoned icicle stabbing into Tetsuji Tomizawa.

Tetsuji Tomizawa snapped his head up, his bloodshot eyes staring fixedly at Lin Long, his teeth gritting together.

He was the helmsman of the Tomizawa Financial Group. No matter how much he feared death, a trace of blood and courage still remained in his bones.

"Fine... I'll bet with you!"

He squeezed those words out from between his teeth.

Tetsuji Tomizawa reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the revolver from the table.

The cold touch of the metal made him shudder, but he still gritted his teeth and pointed the muzzle at his own temple.

"Yuzo, Daji, Taichi... I'm sorry..."

He murmured in his heart, then closed his eyes and pulled the trigger sharply.

"Click!"

A dry fire.

No bullet was fired.

Tetsuji Tomizawa snapped his eyes open, gasping for air in large gulps. Cold sweat instantly soaked through his formal suit. He had survived!

As if all his strength had left him, he slumped in his chair. He looked at Lin Long with a complex gaze, pushed the gun over, and said in a raspy voice:

"Your turn... Mr. Joker. I hope your luck... is better than mine."

He even remembered to add a taunt, carrying a hint of the desperation of someone with nothing left to lose.

Lin Long chuckled, picked up the gun, and pointed it at his own temple without hesitation.

His movements were terrifyingly calm, as if he were holding a toy rather than a potentially lethal weapon.

"President Tomizawa, do you know what the secret to a great comedy performance is?"

Lin Long stared fixedly at Tetsuji Tomizawa and asked suddenly, a second before pulling the trigger.

"Click!"

Another dry fire.

Lin Long lowered the gun, the "smile" on his face palpable even through the mask.

"It's timing."

Before his voice faded, he raised the gun again, pointing it at his own chin, his gaze remaining calm.

"Do you know what courage is?"

"Click!"

Still a dry fire.

"It's maintaining grace under pressure."

Lin Long's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly carried throughout the entire banquet hall.

Without pausing, he raised the gun for the third time, pointing it at his temple. His gaze slowly swept across everyone present—those terrified, disgusted, and fearful eyes—before landing back on Tetsuji Tomizawa's pale face.

"So, do you have courage?"

"Click!"

The gun still didn't fire.

Three consecutive shots, all empty!

The entire banquet hall was dead silent.

Everyone was stunned by the scene before them—was this "Joker" insane? He actually dared to fire three shots at himself in a row?! This wasn't courage; this was pure recklessness!

"Madman... he's just a madman!" someone cursed in a low voice, their tone filled with fear.

Conan Edogawa and Heiji Hattori hid under a table, their expressions grave to the extreme.

They had seen desperate men and heinous criminals, but they had never seen someone like this—completely disregarding common sense, treating life as cheap, and not even caring about his own life.

Against such a madman, any logic or strategy might fail.

"Kudo, what do we do?"

Heiji Hattori's voice was kept extremely low, with an undetectable trace of trembling.

Conan Edogawa shook his head, his brow furrowed.

The only thing he could do now was pray that this madman would end this farce quickly and not involve more innocent people.

Tetsuji Tomizawa slumped in his chair, sweat dripping off him like rain onto the carpet, forming a small dark stain. He stared fixedly at the gun, his mind a complete blank.

Six chambers, four shots already fired (one by him, three by the Joker). That meant of the remaining two chambers, one must contain a live round! Next, it was his turn to fire—

Whether he fired this shot or not, that remaining bullet was destined to land on his head!

He was doomed!

A surge of desperate rage erupted from his heart. Tetsuji Tomizawa suddenly grabbed the gun from the table, spun the muzzle around to point at Lin Long, and hissed hysterically:

"Madman! You madman! Damn you! Tell your men to let them go! Or I'll shoot! I'll kill you!"

He had completely broken down, abandoning all reason and dignity, only wanting to take this demon down with him.

Lin Long looked at his hysterical state and said slowly:

"President Tomizawa, it seems you have no chivalry at all."

Before his words fell, his movements were lightning-fast. A second before Tetsuji Tomizawa could pull the trigger, he snatched the gun from his hand!

"Since you don't want to play anymore, I'll help you out."

Lin Long's voice was bone-chillingly cold as the muzzle instantly pointed at Tetsuji Tomizawa's forehead.

"Bang!"

The gun fired.

Tetsuji Tomizawa's head was struck as if by a heavy hammer, jerking back violently as a gruesome blood hole appeared on his forehead. His eyes were wide open, seemingly still carrying a trace of disbelief, as his body slumped into the chair, blood slowly flowing down the chair legs.

The Fuzawa Family Head was dead.

Before anyone could recover from this sudden death, dense gunfire erupted from the rostrum again.

"Bang, bang, bang, bang!"

Four gunshots, crisp and decisive.

Tomizawa Yuzo, Daji Tomizawa, Fuzawa Taichi, and Mrs. Tomizawa, who had just woken up, all fell into pools of blood.

The core members of the Tomizawa Financial Group, except for Suzuki Ayako who had just married into the family, were wiped out!

Lin Long threw away the revolver and clapped his hands as if he had just done something trivial.

He turned and made a gesture to James:

"Clean up the scene and prepare to withdraw."

"Yes, Boss!"

James immediately understood and began directing the mercenaries to retreat in an orderly fashion.

Lin Long took one last look at the chaotic banquet hall, his gaze lingering briefly on Suzuki Ayako—she stood there, pale-faced, but she didn't cry out; she just looked at him with a complex expression.

"Everyone, I enjoyed tonight's banquet very much."

"I hope you all liked the surprise I prepared for you. Until we meet again."

The Joker bowed elegantly to the crowd in the banquet hall and turned toward the door.

A few drops of blood stained his black combat suit, forming a sharp contrast with the pale Joker mask, exuding a strange and terrifying aura.

"Remember me, I am the Joker."

Leaving behind these arrogant and mad words, Lin Long's figure disappeared into the banquet hall doorway.

The mercenaries receded like a tide, leaving behind only a mess, terrified guests, and the cold corpses of the tomizawa family members.

A long, long time later...

The sound of sirens finally came from the distance, growing closer and breaking the dead silence of the Mihua Grand Hotel.

Conan Edogawa looked toward the doorway, his gaze grave to the extreme.