Chapter Text
I woke up to music, immediately getting blinded by the harsh overhead lights. I blinked at the ceiling. My vision sharpened, my brain buffered. Where the hell was I?
Memories started flooding in—the metro station, the Ddakji game, that smug man handing me a card. Right. I signed up for some mysterious competition because I needed money. A lot of money.
When my eyes adjusted, I could finally see what was around me. People. At least a couple hundred of them. I sat up and took in my surroundings. A giant warehouse-style room, bunk beds stacked to the ceiling, people shifting and murmuring. We were all wearing the same thing, a green tracksuit. I crawled to the edge of my bed to see all the people gather in the middle. There were numbers on their jackets. I even saw numbers that were in the 400s.
I glanced down at my own jacket. 404. I almost chuckled. My player number was an error code. If that wasn’t screaming bad luck I didn’t know what was. My chances of winning this thing were looking fantastic already.
I wasn’t really planning on getting down from my bed, since I could see everything from up here. Some people looked nervous, others were chatting like this was summer camp. The floor below us had two big symbols painted on it—a blue circle and a red cross. Then, I noticed that above us, a screen displayed the number 456, presumably the amount of people in this room.
Before I could analyze further, a loud buzzer sounded. The heavy metal doors slid open, and in marched several men in pink jumpsuits and black masks. Everyone instinctively quieted, and I scooted even closer to the edge of my bed.
“I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you.” One of the masked men said. “Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days. Those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize.” I squinted my eyes. That’s what that man in the metro station told me, but I’m just wondering whether this ‘handsome cash prize’ will even be enough for me.
"Excuse me!” A voice cut through the crowd, and multiple people, including me, turned their heads. “You said I’d be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me. So how can I believe that?” Okay, there she’s got a point. The whole knocked-unconscious-and-changed-into-a-uniform thing was sketchy.
The masked man nodded slightly. “I apologize. Please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game’s security.” But that answer didn’t seem to satisfy anyone. More voices piped up.
“What’s with the mask then? Is your face also a secret?”
“Yeah! Why are you hiding your face? Is this some kind of illegal gambling house?”
“Even the dealers don’t cover their faces in those places.”
But despite all this, the masked man stayed eerily calm. “To ensure fair gameplay and confidentiality, it is our policy not to reveal the faces and identities of staff. Please understand.”
Another girl started yelling, scowling as she held up her jacket. “Did you take off my clothes and put these on me?” See, that’s the real question.
“What’s with these shoes?” Another guy said, holding one up like evidence in a courtroom. “My shoes are limited fucking edition! They’re hard to find. Are you going to replace them if they get ruined?” I nearly snorted. Dude, we’re literally abducted right now, and that’s your concern? Once we won, or lost, they’ll let us out and you’ll get back your precious shoes.
The girl was still holding up her jacket. “These don’t fit and the color sucks. Can I just have what you’re wearing instead? I like pink.” Her frown suddenly turned into a smile, batting her eyelashes at the masked men.
I could’ve sworn I heard the man sigh. “I’m sorry, but that is not possible. You must be in your uniforms for the games.”
“What about my phone?” Some guy interrupted, pushing his way through the crowd. “Why did you take my phone and wallet? Give them back, please.”
“We’re keeping your belongings safe. We’ll return them once the games are over.” See, that made sense. Kind of. Maybe I put too much trust in people, but these guys need to stop stressing about their limited edition shoes and phone. Trust me, you’ll live.
“At least give me my phone.” The guy continued. “I need to check the crypto market.” As if this guy couldn’t get any lamer. He’s a crypto guy. And he kept arguing with the masked man, yelling about how much he had invested, and how much money he’ll lose if he doesn’t check his phone right this second. His voice only died down when his face showed up on the big screen in front of us.
“Player 333, Lee Myung-gi.” A video played of him getting repeatedly slapped by the metro guy, wearing a… bucket hat.
“Age 30, used to run a YouTube channel called MG Coin. After convincing subscribers to invest in a new crypto coin called Dalmation, causing losses of approximately 15.2 billion won, you shut down and disappeared. You’re wanted for fraud and for violating telecom and financial investment laws. Current debt levels, 1.8 billion won.” Phew… that’s embarrassing. All of that revealed on a big screen to 455 others. I didn’t even have time to react when they already moved on to the next victims.
“Player 196, Kang Mi-na, 45 million won in debt.”
“Player 120, Cho Hyun-ju, 330 million won in debt.”
“Player 230, Choi Su-bong, 1.19 billion won in debt.”
They showed each player on the big screen, getting slapped around by that metro guy. They went through multiple people at a rapid pace, and I could only hope that I wasn’t next. I was looking around the room, trying to find every player that was called out, until one of them, who was 10 billion won in debt, began screaming.
“What are you looking at!?” The old man yelled at everyone, his wild eyes scanning the room. “Do you think it’s easy to get a ten-billion-won loan? They don’t lend that kind of money to just anyone! Only to those who are capable of paying it back.” Right. Because that worked out so well for you.
The masked man took over again. “All of you in this room have crippling debts and are now on a cliff-edge. When we first came to you, you did not trust us either. But as you know, we played a game and gave you money as promised. And so you trusted us and volunteered to participate according to your own free will. You have one last chance to decide. Do you want to live like a piece of trash, running from creditors? Or will you seize the last opportunity we are offering?”
Then, the sky opened up.
Or, well, the ceiling.
A deep rumble shook the room, and a massive tinted glass piggy bank descended from above, suspended by thick metal cables. And as if this wasn’t surreal enough already, a video game-like jingle played over the speakers, making us feel like we were in some arcade.
“What you see now is the piggy bank where your valuable prize money will be stored. After each of the six games you will play, the prize money will accumulate in this piggy bank.”
More and more heads tilted back to stare at the thing, eyes widening in awe. And to be fair, yeah, it was huge. At least the size of a car.
“How much is the prize money?” Someone called out.
“The prize money for the games is 45.6 billion won in total.” The reaction was immediate. The majority of the people gasped and began whispering to each other. Suddenly, a lot of people weren’t just skeptical anymore. They were interested.
45.6 billion won. That was more than enough money for me, more than more than enough. But something told me it wasn’t as simple as just playing along and walking out of here with billions.
“And one of us will get it?” The same guy pressed.
“We will give you the details about distribution of the prize money after the first game.” Vague. Suspicious. But people were already latching onto the words ‘prize money’ like it was the only thing that mattered. The masked man continued, “For these games, you will be given a special new advantage.”
“What is it?” The old man from before interrupted, making heads turn.
“After each game, you will be given a chance to vote on whether to continue the games or not. If the majority votes to stop the games, you can leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point.” People started murmuring again. That seemed fair, right?
“Are you saying,” A voice rang out from nearby, “we’ll still receive the money even if we leave after the first game?”
The masked man hesitated before answering. “That’s correct.”
The man who had asked the question was standing close to my bunk. There was something about his expression. Focussed, unreadable, but intense enough to send a shiver down my spine. Fear? Determination? Either way, I didn’t want to be in his way.
Number 456 .
After some more ruckus—like a mother who scolded her son because they apparently both ended up here, which was super embarrassing—we needed to sign a consent form. It was meant to reassure us, to make it clear that we always had a choice.
I climbed down from my bunk and made my way into one of the lines. It was moving fast. Either people were eager, or they just didn’t bother to read anything.
“Are you going to stay?” I asked the woman in the row beside me.
She gave me a weird look before answering. “Yes.” She said plainly. I could sense that she didn’t want to engage in conversation with me further, so I stopped trying.
I looked around the room, scanning for people that looked around my age. If I was going to be here for the next six days, I needed to at least make some alliances. Some of these people had already formed little groups. Then again, if everyone here was like the materialistic crypto dude or the purple haired shoe guy currently threatening him, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to try and make any friends.
When I made it to the front of the line, I could finally see what was on this consent form. I was expecting it to be saying things like ‘don’t hold us accountable for any harm’ or, ‘no cheating’ but instead, there were only four clauses.
1. A PLAYER IS NOT ALLOWED TO VOLUNTARILY QUIT
2. A PLAYER WHO REFUSES TO PLAY WILL BE ELIMINATED
3. THE GAMES MAY BE TERMINATED UPON A MAJORITY VOTE. IN CASE OF A TIE, PLAYERS WILL VOTE AGAIN
4. IF THE GAMES ARE TERMINATED, PLAYERS WILL DIVIDE THE PRIZE EQUALLY
And all I had to do was sign my name, sealing my fate.
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After taking my picture and walking up what felt like 3000 stairs, I finally got to see the game hall. The doors opened, and despite all the people in front of me, I could catch a glimpse of what it was. It seemed to be outside, walls painted blue with clouds, a field-like scenery stretched ahead, and an open roof let in the illusion of a bright sunny day. I tried thinking of what game we might be playing, but something told me I would just have to wait.
A woman’s voice played over the speakers. “Welcome to the first game. All players, please wait a moment on the field. Let me repeat. All players, please wait a moment on the field.” Her insistence made me uneasy.
People murmured as we all walked in, but most of the chatter died when we saw it, her . A giant doll stood at the far end of the field, guarded by two masked men.
The doors banged shut behind us, making several people jump. Then, the woman continued talking.
“The first game is Red Light, Green Light. Cross the finish line without getting caught in five minutes. If you do, you pass.”
Are you kidding me? Red Light, Green Light for a chance at 45.6 billion? This had to be a joke. Others seemed to agree, chuckling and nudging each other. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it. It couldn’t possibly be this easy.
And then, someone ran to the front of the crowd. It was the same man as before, the one who lowkey kind of scared me. Number 456.
“Everyone!” He yelled, his voice urgent, desperate. “Everyone, Listen up! Pay attention!”
We all turned to him. He looked frantic.
“Listen carefully! This is not just a game! If you lose the game, you die!” Now, that made more sense. As much as I didn’t want it to be true, it was a much more plausible explanation for why they wanted to give us 45.6 billion won for playing kids games. But the people, instead of even being somewhat scared, called him a liar, and laughed in his face.
“Hey! What are you talking about?” A woman scoffed. “We’re going to die playing Red Light, Green Light?”
“Yes, that’s right! If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They will shoot you from somewhere! If you get caught, you die! That doll’s eyes are motion detectors!” I was honestly baffled at the fact that so many people took this as a chance to be cocky. When someone yells in your face that you might die, I’d better be safe than sorry. But, to be fair, this guy did sound like a loon.
The doll then suddenly started moving, drawing everyone’s attention. She put her hand against the tree, and turned her head away from us.
“Do not be alarmed or panic!” The man shouted. “No matter what happens, do not panic and start running!”
And that’s when the game began.
Green light!
People hesitated, but eventually, we all began moving forward. I made sure to be extra careful, as I did not want to test out his theory. But the man kept standing in the same place, holding his hands out.
Red light!
“Freeze!” The man yelled, and the doll’s head whipped around, scanning the field.
No one moved an inch. I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing.
“Well done!” 456 said. “You just need to stay calm like this! We just have to move and stop at the right time. Then we can all win. We can survive together!” This man honestly needed to take a chill pill. We heard you the first time. And I was kind of worried for him. He kept yelling at us that we needed to be still, meanwhile he’s screaming and being at risk of getting caught himself.
Green light!
We all started moving again. Slowly, carefully, while 456 stayed behind.
Red light!
“Freeze!” He yelled once more as the doll turned around again. “Don’t move and stay still! Just relax!”
Green light!
And we were off again. This cycle kept repeating a few times. Red light. Green light. People moved. People stopped. But the entire time, 456 kept screaming. No one was dying, but then again, no one was moving. There were still about four minutes left on the timer, and we were almost halfway across the field.
But then suddenly, I heard a girl scream. She was behind me, so I couldn’t turn to look. But when I heard a gunshot and a loud thud, I could take a quick guess at what was happening.
“Nobody move!” 456 quickly began to yell. “You must not move!”
“Player 196, eliminated.”
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. But I knew. Someone was dead. For real. And it didn’t take long for more people to begin screaming, and for more gunshots to be fired. People fled, but with no luck. People only turned to look, but they suffered the same outcome. It happened again. And again.
Screams. Gunshots. Bodies hitting the ground. It took everything in me not to flinch. My entire body was locked in place, fists clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms.
Green light!
No one moved.
Red Light!
No one dared to breathe.
456 broke the silence. “You will also die if you don’t make it there in time! That doll is a motion detector! But it can’t detect motion that’s not visible to it!” He moved the hand that was behind his back, nothing happened. “Get behind someone bigger than you! Like you’re doing Follow the Leader! We’re running out of time! We’ve got to move!”
Green light!
Immediately, people started forming rows. Bigger players went in front, smaller ones behind. I ended up third in my line. It wasn’t much cover, but it was something.
Red light!
Everyone kept still, even when they didn’t even have to. I looked to my side. A guy leading another row stood stiff, his face blank, but his hands trembled. He looked terrified. I caught his eye and, without thinking, put up both my thumbs, offering a small, encouraging smile. His expression barely changed, but I saw the faintest smile beginning to form on his lips. Before we went off again, I read his jacket.
Player 388.
We kept going. The timer ticked down.
Finally, the finish line was in reach.
Green light!
I sprinted at the last stretch, every muscle burning, my pulse hammering in my ears. As I crossed the line, my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the ground. Panting. Trembling.
I was alive.
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We were all taken back to the sleeping hall. No one was chatting anymore. The energy that had once filled the room, the nervous excitement, the low murmurs, it was now gone. Silence had taken over, and the only sounds were the occasional sniffles of people's noses and the distant hum of the ventilation system.
I sank into one of the beds, staring at the ceiling. People just died. Real people. Shot down like they were nothing. That could’ve been me. That could’ve been anyone. A man I passed on the street last week. A woman I saw at the grocery store. Gone, erased from existence like they had never mattered. Like they had never even been here.
I sat up, scanning the room. Everyone looked drained, their faces pale and their eyes hollow. Some sat up on their beds, heads in their hands, while others stood frozen in place. My gaze landed on 388. He was sitting on the floor across the room, knees bent, fingers picking absently at his lip. He looked lost in thought, but then his eyes flicked up, locking onto mine.
I froze for half a second. He did too. We just stared at each other, as if trying to telepathically communicate. Then, after a brief hesitation, he raised a hand and gave me a weak thumbs up, the corner of his mouth barely lifting. And look, maybe I was reading into things, but he seemed… relieved? Like he was glad I made it too? Something about it, about him, made my chest feel strangely warm. And while this situation was unfortunate, this was my first positive interaction with anyone here. Possible alliance, check.
A loud buzzer jolted all of us out of our daze. The masked soldiers entered the room again, now looking much scarier than before. The sight of their guns made my stomach twist, and everyone backed away to the furthest end of the room.
“Congratulations for making it through the first game.” The middle one spoke. “Here are the results of the first game.” All eyes shifted to the screen above them. The number that had started at 456 was now rapidly decreasing.
“Out of 456 players, 91 players have been eliminated. 365 players have completed the first game.”
The number stopped going down, settling on 365.
“Congratulations again for making it through the first game.”
A sudden wail broke through the silence.
“Sir! Please don’t kill us! Please don’t kill us. I beg you!”
I turned toward the voice. The older woman had fallen to her knees, clutching the arm of her son who stood beside her. His face was a mixture of shame and desperation. And then, like a dam breaking, more people dropped to the floor, pleading, begging to be let go.
That’s when 456 reminded the guards of clause three of the consent form:
3. THE GAMES MAY BE TERMINATED UPON A MAJORITY VOTE. IN CASE OF A TIE, PLAYERS WILL VOTE AGAIN
The masked men hesitated before one of them finally nodded, agreeing with 456. But before they let us vote, they announced the prize money that had been accumulated. The piggy bank descended from the ceiling again. Money rained down, stacking higher and higher with each passing second. The sight of it was almost hypnotic. 100 million won was added for every player that had died. That meant the prize pool now stood at 9.1 billion.
People who had been sobbing moments ago now stood frozen, their eyes glued to the money. I couldn't blame them. Even I found myself scooting forward slightly, drawn in by the weight of that number.
They told us, if we chose to leave now, the 9.1 billion would be divided evenly among the 365 remaining players, meaning everyone would only get around 25 million won. As expected, people weren’t satisfied, they wanted more. 25 million was a lot, but for most of us here, me included, it wasn’t nearly enough. It wouldn’t change our lives. It wouldn’t wipe our debts.
The vote would be cast in reverse order, starting with 456. One by one, players would step to the front of the room and press either O to stay or X to leave.
I already knew my choice. As much as I needed the money, I couldn’t bring myself to press O when there’s people in this room who were desperate to get out. I’d keep working my three jobs. I’d find a way, somehow. But I wasn’t going to selfishly trap others here just because I wanted to continue.
456 stepped forward. I already knew what he’d choose. And sure enough, without hesitation, he pressed X. A red patch was handed to him, and he stepped aside.
The numbers were being called one by one. I glanced around, trying to spot 388 again, but he had disappeared somewhere in the sea of people. I needed to talk to him, to tell him how brave he had been, to maybe even bring up the idea of an alliance in case these games did continue. He seemed strong, kind, and with him in a team I would not only have fun, but also be safe. But I wouldn’t be able to find him unless I waited for his turn to vote, and he would walk up to the front.
Then, my number was called.
I walked up to the front, keeping my eyes on the screen. The X’s were in the lead. My hand hovered over the buttons for a second. But I already knew my answer.
The red patch was placed in my hand, and I stepped aside. I didn’t want to die in a place like this. I didn’t want to be just another body in the dirt. I moved toward the side, where I could see the players walking up before their vote. Then, finally, his number was called. My breath hitched slightly as I spotted him. He walked forward, and then, just as he was about to pass me, his eyes met mine.
He glanced down at my patch, before quickly fixing his eyes ahead again. When he reached the buttons I saw him stare. His hand hovered over the red X. And for a moment, I thought he would press it. But at the last second, his fingers shifted. He pressed O. A blue patch was handed to him.
The slight smile I had faltered.
Choosing to stay didn’t make him a bad guy, even though I had just told myself it did. But I wanted to understand why. What made him change his mind at the last second? Was it the money? Something else?
Before he walked away, his head tilted ever so slightly, just enough for him to glance at me over his shoulder. His expression wasn’t smug. It wasn’t mocking. It was something else.
Guilt.