CHAPTER ONE ━━━━ LAST RESORT

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IT COULDN'T GET WORSE FOR HA-EUN. She shivered as the thick wind cut through the layer of her jacket ── just the way life cut through her last flickers of hope. Hae-eun clutched her phone in her trembling hands, the glow of the screen illuminating her face and revealing the traces of sleepless nights she'd been enduring, resting next to her mother's hospital bed. Despite the torture of witnessing her mother's lack of responsiveness, it was her sole evasion from the nightmare that followed her callously in the outside world.

Loan sharks were hot on her tail, demanding the girl the money she owed. Money she didn't have. After dropping out and pouring out the last of her savings, she had been obliged to mess with the wrong crowds. Ha-eun resorted to illicit methods to acquire the cash she so desperately needed. The men who had loaned her the money were searching everywhere for her ── and they did not appreciate the depletion of answers.

As her gaze shifted from her phone to the dimly-lit street, she wondered how she could have possibly ended up like this. All her life, people had praised her for her efforts to succeed. They had vowed her to a life enriched of accomplishments. Where were these people now that she needed them?

Despite the hassle of performing three jobs at ounce, the revenue never came close to meeting her due. On top of that, Ha-eun had to keep a constant eye peeking over her shoulder, ensuring that the loan sharks weren't sneaking up on her, ready to deploy their revenge.

The brunette sighed as she slumped down on the nearest bench in the station, running her slender fingers over her forehead. Her days seemed to lap over in a repetitive cycle ── Ha-eun would go from straining her body at various jobs to then keeping her unconscious mother unrequited company. Obliged to peer at her parent remain stiff, machines plugged into her body took a serious toll on her mental health. The girl sincerely believed she was on the brink of depression.

Consumed by the tragedy of her own thoughts, Ha-eun didn't even bother to notice the carefully groomed man that joined her at her side. Not until he softly tapped her shoulders.

"Hello, miss," the salesman smiled, hoisting his briefcase over his lap. Ha-eun simply nodded, slightly confused and too tired to feign curiosity at whatever trick he had up his sleeve, or whatever fake deal he was about to propose. "Would you ── "

"Not interested. Sorry." The girl cut him short, lifting her hand up to prove her indifference. "Whatever scam you're about to spit out, I don't care."

The man failed to appear vexed. Instead, he kept his broad smile plastered on his lips. He opened his briefcase ── revealing stacks of viridescent bills. Ha-eun gasped at the sight, body swivelling towards the salesman.

"Would you like to play a game with me?" He repeated, pulling out two cards of ddakji. Ha-eun recalled the traditional Korean game, having played it a few times when she was a child. It consisted of two folded paper-tiles, and the goal was to flip over the other player's tile.

"Is that the prize if I win?" Ha-eun quizzed, raising her eyebrows.

"You've played ddakji before, right? Every time you manage to flip over my ddakji, I will give you 100,000 won." He clarified, watching as a glint resurfaced in the woman's captivated gaze. "If I flip over yours, you have to give me 100,000 won."

"How could I refuse, then?" She nodded, her eyes trained on the money. Time had taught her she was never busy enough to refuse a little extra cash. "Let's play."

"So, which colour would you like to pick?" The salesman enquired. The girl caught the blue paper-tile between her fingers, jumping up to her feet. "I'll let you start," he voiced.

Newfound energy blossomed inside Ha-eun's body ── she was practically giddy on her feet. This game had never been her forte when she was young, but hey, maybe under the pressure of money, she'd adapt some skills. At least, that was what she hoped.

As the man neatly placed his red card on the ground, she exhaled a breath of air. She raised her arm over her head, sucking in through her teeth. With all the strength her body could muster, she threw her ddakji on the ground. Watched as it failed to flip over the man's card. "Damn!" She growled, stomping her foot in the ground. Games that required force weren't usually at her advantage.

"My turn, now." The salesman retrieved his card, and Ha-eun crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping he'd lose, just like she did. All those years later, the concept of failing was still something hard to swallow. With tremendous power, he successfully turned her ddakji over.

"That was a nice game, but I see my train coming," Ha-eun waved over, realising she did not have the money to pay the man for his win. "It was nice knowing you, thank you!"

Before she could vanish out of sight, he tugged at her sleeve, rooting her back to her spot. "If you don't have the money, you can pay with your body." The man proposed calmly, keeping his composure.

"Excuse me?!" She scoffed, yanking her arm away. "As charming as you are, I am not ──" Before she could finish her sentence, Ha-eun stumbled backward. Her eyes wide in shock, she held her blazing cheek. He had slapped her across the face.

"If you can't pay, I'll slap you." He informed her.

"Fine. Give me my ddakji." Ha-eun spat, fuelled with a growing need to prove to that man that she could win too. Gaze glued to the red card, she became cognisant of the fact that she needed to rely on the workings of her brain to win. She didn't have enough strength to throw aimlessly, so all that remained was her chosen method.

She shifted on her feet, judging the best position from which to make her ddakji land. The girl tried to remember the man's previous movements as he flawlessly turned her's over, biting onto the pink flesh of her bottom lip. It was like her mind had cleared from all the toxicity ── solely focused on how she could succeed.

She placed an extended palm on her knee and raised the card behind her head. Ha-eun threw the ddakji. She witnessed it flip the other.

"YES!" Ha-eun screamed, thrusting her fist in the air. She was overcome with a sense of triumph. The salesman clapped at her victory, shoving bills into her hand.

"Impressive, Kim Ha-eun," he chuckled.

"Thank yo──" She smiled, before staggering backward. "How the hell do you know my name?"

"Your name, Kim Ha-eun. Thirty-five years old. Attended Seoul National University, but dropped out in the last year. Working three to four jobs as a waitress or receptionist. Your only living relative is in a coma, that you have to pay for. Six hundred won owed just to loan sharks." The man unfaltering as he revealed the details of the woman's life.

Ha-eun clenched the bills in her hand, taking one cautious step back. "Who sent you?!"

Instead of satisfying her question, he pulled out a paper card from his pocket. "Kim Ha-eun. There are other games like this, where you can make even more. And clearly, you're in need of it." The woman was at loss for words, eyes lingering on the card. "We don't have many spots left. Think about it." He shot her one last smile before gripping his briefcase and stepping on the approaching train. He curled his hand into a clenched fist. "Good luck."

Ha-eun ripped her stare away from the man, swapping her focus from the new bills and the invitation. She gulped, pondering on the right decision to pick. It was difficulty to resonate with a clear mind when the woman lacked money ── the world's currency. Most of all, she wanted some kind of answer.

Before she knew it, she was digging in her pocket for her phone. Sighing, she let her fingers dial the scripted number. As she pressed the mobile to her ear, the line rung.

"Hello? Who's calling?"

"Hello, it's me. You gave me your business card earlier." Ha-eun spoke.

"Do you wish to participate to the game? If you do, please state your name and birthdate."

"Kim Ha-eun. Twenty-seven of December, 1985," she stated. "I would like to play your game."