2 Russian Roulette, With A Twist

Victor could only stare at what he presumed was the most hardcore Sukuna cosplayer in the world with dry lips.

His eyes wandered to the small wooden table between them, the smal-... alright not so small .500 S&W Magnum that could probably blow off a man's head lying on it and then the neatly folded piece of paper lying in his half the table.

He'd done some pretty weird shit in his life, but he doubted anything would even come close to this if it meant what he thought it meant, "Sooo... wanna try explaining?" He tried to make small talk.

The other man raised his red eyes to meet his green ones and let out a small huff before ignoring him like he didn't deserve the attention.

"Okay, 'my lord'." Victor wiggled his fingers sarcastically, "This lowly one apologises for his impudence."

He reached for the piece of paper and picked it up.

"..." Victor's eye twitched at what it said.

"Wassup chucklefuck, did it feel good jumping off that bridge like a fucking retard?"

Now hold up a second, that sounded an awful lot like he just offed himself because he gave up or something, "It was a small bridge, prick."

It was one of those small bridges you could see anywhere in the countryside if you bothered to look, the water was still at the time and his friends did it too. Being an adrenaline junkie from the time he jumped out his mum's womb onto a marble floor, there was no way he wasn't going to do it.

And no he wasn't retarded, the doctor confirmed he wasn't even if he looked surprised.

Besides, his body could take it.

Doing shit like participating in marathons, and other local competitions along with a life on the ranch made you have some physical and athletic ability. Victor, like any man, also had respect for the eternal grind that would go beyond mere mortal pleasur-*ehem* He just liked working out and seeing it pay off.

Though, come to think of it, he did recall landing on top of a cano-

"Yeah, the canoe with a boy on it. You just had to ruin my vacation you asshole, now I gotta deal with the troubles of having to watch over cunts like you for millennia before I get permission to delete my memories and reincarnate for just one lifetime."

In any normal situation, Victor would have asked what the fuck the man had smoked but the fact that the letters were burning themselves into the paper was reason enough for him to do a double take.

"Great."

That was the only thing Victor could say to that.

So he wasn't even in one of those get reincarnated because god made a mistake yada yada- situations. No, he just became the prop for a cliche where some, possibly twink looking, dude was this op as shit god who deleted his memories and sealed his power to live a 'mortal' life cause of 'insert retarded' reason and then regained said status when some prick fucked with them.

"Fuck you."

The letters made Victor consider the possibility that his thoughts were being read.

"They are... Fortunately for you, I am a spiteful but fair man, you get to atone for your sin by doing me a service." Victor opened his mouth but was cut off before he could speak, "That idiot sitting in front of you inconvenienced me too and isn't even bothering with my letter."

Victor's eyes landed on the disinterested Sukuna cosplayer... maybe not cosplayer but actual Sukuna, "You see the gun between you, it has one round. Whoever lives, I use without either knowing, whoever dies, I fucking erase for their stupidity in daring to interrupt me."

"So, Russian Roulette." Victor slightly smiled, he didn't really imagine this'd be the way he'd go out but, it wasn't too shabby.

How many dudes could claim they fucked up a God's plan, got forced into gambling for their lives, and played Russian Roulette with motherfucking Ryomen Sukuna before going out?

The teenager placed a hand over his drumming heart, and allowed himself to grin, "Fine! Didn't plan on living long anyway!"

He knew it was probably his death but this was exciting as shit, the most exciting thing he'd ever done, second to trying wrestle an alligator... and that time he surfed a tidal wave over a hundred metres tall.

Victor was no stranger to looking death in the face and grinning at it.

He reached for the gun and wrapped his fingers around the handle, feeling the cold metal of the trigger, before placing his other hand against the cold barrel.

Somewhere, as he put the gun against the side of his head, he realised that if he was dealing with a God, the dipshit already knew which of them would be hit by the bullet but also that it was out of his power to do something about it.

Everyone would be afraid of the situation, so was Victor, but he was equal parts excited, as he was always.

He pulled the trigger after a second of hesitation and his eyes widened when the gun clicked but didn't give him a new asshole on his head, "Damn." Victor flipped the gun around, holding it out to the only other player, "There you go."

"...And what is this meant to be?" The silent Sukuna finally spoke up, his head still resting in his hand as he glanced at Victor, "Do you not recognise your situation, fool?"

Victor got the distinct impression the man just tried to cut off his head by the way the air suddenly shifted and rushed around him. Strangely, it didn't even rustle his hair, or the black tank top he'd changed into before he jumped into a river, or his pants.

"Hmm... What manner of sorcery is this?"

"Damn bro, didn't know you were cool like that." Victor nodded his head, that had to be a reference.

"I was fighting Gojo Sato-" Sukuna continued, but it felt less like he was talking to him and more like he was talking to himself.

So,

"You mean getting railed."

Victor interrupted him.

"You talk too casually for a maggot." Sukuna met his gaze as the air around them cracked and hissed, "But... your technique is... intriguing for one. Was he meant to be a distraction? Is this what you fools chose to put your hopes in?"

"Oh... oh you think this is a domain expansion." Victor chortled, finding himself having a conversation that he never could have imagined, "Sure, why not?" He held up the gun, "This has only one bullet, it kills one of us. So, shoot yourself in the head with it if you wanna get out of here."

"What makes you think I will entertain this farce?"

Victor closed his eyes and licked his dry lips, "You're a little bitch, huh? Imagine that, a maggot got more guts than you." He flipped the gun around again, pointing it at Sukuna this time, "This is fine, right? It doesn't matter who does the shooting as long as the turn's respected."

Sukuna was, if it was the actual Sukuna he was looking at, a man who killed and tortured for entertainment and had done so throughout his life. He killed a dude's sister cause it'd be easier to break him that way and used said dude's body to do it. The first thing he wanted to do was 'devour' women and children after being revived. If anyone deserved to get shot and erased from existence, it was the man sitting across from him even if Victor himself found him cool.

He pulled the trigger with zero hesitation.

And this time, the gun clicked and boomed, blowing the head of a man who brought a nation to hell into a gory mess. The limp body fell forwards, collapsing on the table and a wide eyed Victor vanished as the room collapsed all around.

"Fucking retard, he didn't read the last line."

-

The next thing Victor saw was a massive city sprawling below, lights shone out in the night as the stars watched over all. A hill stood out in the distance, and he could make out a beautiful, expensive church built atop it.

To another side, darkness reigned over dense forests and mountains, hiding a castle.

But right now, none of that mattered.

Victor looked down at his own hands, "Did I just kill a ma-... Are those tattoos?" 

He ignored the remorse part entirely because he didn't feel jack about killing a mass murderer that killed some of his favourite characters, and instead focused on the two black band-like tattoos around his wrists.

"And I'm wearing a kimono... a scarf too? Am I part cuc- Japanese now?"

Victor ran his hands over the smooth fabric of the light coloured kimono covering his forms, noting the black edges before touching the dark scarf around his neck.

These were the clothes of a certain someone he'd blown the head off of not seconds ago.

"Awesome."

He grinned the most malicious grin ever.

"Wait hold up, I have pink hair now?!"

The man raised his hands to the skies and questioned God with lost eyes, "...Why?"

-

I refuse to explain.