⡴ SWEET BUT PSYCHO ִ ࣪   oh he's sweet but a psycho
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fucking stupid.

as soon as taeha opened his eyes and registered where he was, he realized just how utterly, irredeemably stupid he'd been.

the place surrounding him was unfamiliar and unnerving. a dull ache crept through his temples, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the bitter self-recrimination swirling in his head. did he really just hand himself over to potential kidnappers like some naive idiot in a bad thriller movie? he mentally replayed the events leading up to this moment and couldn't help but wince at his sheer idiocy.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

but, honestly, could anyone truly blame him? could anyone, in his position, have turned down such a tempting offer  ━  a chance to earn an unimaginable amount of money just by playing a few games? he'd been desperate. hell, desperate didn't even begin to cover it. he was drowning in debt, with creditors breathing down his neck and no lifeboat in sight. the offer had felt like a miraculous hand reaching out to pull him from the abyss. who wouldn't cling to that?

still... there was a difference between desperation and outright stupidity, and it was painfully clear which side taeha had landed on.

the room he woke up in was massive, disorientingly so. the sheer scale of it made him feel like a speck of dust trapped in an enormous void. the walls loomed high above him, featureless and sterile, painted in some colorless hue that made the place feel even colder. it was a dormitory of sorts, filled with bunk beds that stretched upward like towers. taeha counted five levels, maybe more, stacked so precariously that he half-expected someone to fall off the top at any moment.

in the center of the room was a massive screen, with the number 456. taeha had no idea what it meant, but something about it made his stomach churn uneasily. he glanced around the room, taking in the sight of the people gathered there ━ a sea of strangers dressed in identical green tracksuits.

it was only then, looking down at himself, that taeha noticed he, too, was wearing the same dull green outfit. his fingers brushed over the patch on his chest: 127. his number. the sight of it triggered a rush of fragmented memories, him leaving his house last night, wearing his usual black tracksuit, and...

his eyes narrowed.

did those freaks actually change my clothes?

the thought sent a wave of revulsion crashing over him. it wasn't just the outfit; they must've taken his personal belongings, too. his phone. his wallet. his everything. the implications of that alone made his skin crawl. these people had stripped him down ━ literally ━ without his consent, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

before he could sink further into spiraling thoughts, a sharp ringing noise jolted him back to the present. a bell. it had been going off for a while now, but taeha had been too preoccupied to notice. the other people around him were stirring, climbing out of their respective bunks and shuffling toward the center of the room.

he hesitated, his eyes darting across the crowd as he searched for even a single familiar face.

nothing.

everywhere he looked, there were strangers. hundreds of them, all milling about in the same green tracksuits, all marked with different numbers.

taeha sighed. reluctantly, he slid off his bunk and joined the crowd. he didn't want to attract unnecessary attention, and besides, staying put didn't seem like a great option either.

the moment his feet hit the floor, the room's massive doors creaked open, and a group of people in red jumpsuits entered. their faces were completely obscured by masks. taeha instinctively stepped back, putting some distance between himself and the crowd as he leaned against one of the bunk bed frames.

the man at the front of the group spoke first. his voice was low and slightly muffled behind the square-shaped mask he wore.

"i would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you."

taeha tilted his head, studying the group dressed in red with narrowed eyes. the leader's mask was square, while the others in the back wore circles.

was there some sort of hierarchy here? and why the masks? were they hiding their identities? did that mean taeha had somehow stumbled into some kind of fucking illegal place?

"everyone here will participate in six different games over six days," the square-masked man continued. "those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."

cash prize. the words sent a shiver down taeha's spine. his heart fluttered in a strange mix of anticipation and dread.

the room falls into a deathly silence for a brief moment, as everyone exchanges glances with each other.

"excuse me," someone finally spoke up.

taeha's gaze shifted toward the voice. it belonged to a woman ━ number 120, according to the patch on her chest. she stepped forward with a confident air, but taeha's sharp eyes caught the subtle tremble in her hands.

"you said we'd be playing games," she said, her voice steady but edged with steel. "but you practically kidnapped us. how can we trust you?"

it was a valid question, and one taeha himself had been wondering. they didn't even know where they were, let alone who had brought them here.

"i apologize," the masked man replied. "please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game's security."

before taeha could even process that flimsy excuse, the room erupted into chaos. voices rose in a cacophony of anger and confusion as the crowd began hurling questions and accusations at the masked figures.

"what's with the masks, then? is your face a secret too?"

"yeah! why are you hiding your identity? are we in some kind of illegal gambling house?"

"even dealers don't cover their faces like this!"

taeha didn't bother adding to the noise. he doubted they'd get any real answers, and besides, he was too busy sorting through his own thoughts. still, he listened carefully, hoping someone else's questions might align with his own.

eventually, the masked man managed to regain control of the room.

"to ensure fair gameplay and confidentiality, it is our policy not to reveal the faces and identities of staff," he said. "please understand."

taeha rolled his eyes. the vagueness of that explanation was almost insulting.

"did you take my clothes and put these on me?" another girl piped up.

"what's with these shoes?" a guy say. "my shoes are limited fucking edition. they're hard to find! you going to replace them if they get ruined?"

taeha wasn't sure whether he should be amused or deeply concerned.

"these don't fit, and the color sucks," the girl grumbled. "can i just have what you're wearing instead? i like pink."

this time, taeha is genuinely amused by the absurdity of her complaints, and the person next to him shoots him a weird look when he stifles a laugh.

"i'm sorry, but that is not possible. you must be in your uniforms for the games," replies the square guy, his tone flat and unyielding.

as the conversation moves on without him, he allows his thoughts to wander, sinking deeper into the chaos in his head.

if he really thought about it, maybe this whole game thing wasn't some elaborate scam after all. maybe it was real. the rules, the setup, the masked figures ━ it all seemed ludicrous, but wasn't that the point of reality shows? the absurdity, the spectacle?

could it be something like the ddakji game he played with that strange man on the subway? granted, that had been straightforward ━ nothing more than flipping tiles and enduring a slap. this, however, seemed infinitely more intricate.

but still, it couldn't be anything that bad, right? it's not like someone was going to die or anything.

taeha pressed his lips together as doubt gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. then again, if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was.

not that it mattered to him. taeha needed the money. no, needed didn't even cover it. he was drowning, suffocating under a mountain of debt. he'd run out of options long ago, and these games ━ whatever they were ━ had shown up like a beacon in the night.

six games. just six. that's what the masked man had said. how hard could it be?

taeha snapped back to reality as the masked man's voice echoed through the room, pulling him from the haze of his thoughts. at first, he thought he'd misheard the announcement, that his mind was playing tricks on him, twisting words in a desperate attempt to distract him from the absurdity of his surroundings.

"player 333, lee myeong-gi."

taeha froze. no. it couldn't be. there had to be hundreds of people in south korea with that name. thousands, maybe. it was a coincidence, just a cruel coincidence. it had to be.

but the faint hope he clung to crumbled as quickly as it had formed. the square-masked guy gestured toward the massive screen at the center of the room. the lights dimmed slightly, and taeha's breath hitched when the screen lit up with a video.

the grainy footage played in full view of everyone.

his ex-boyfriend  ━  the one he'd broken up with just a few months ago, cut all ties with, and tried to erase completely from his life  ━  was on the screen, getting slapped across the face with an almost comical force. the sound of the slap echoed louder than it should have, reverberating in taeha's ears like a twisted mockery.

for a split second, he thought he might laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the laughter caught in his throat, choking him.

of all people in the world, it had to be him? and of all places, it had to be here?

taeha clenched his jaw, a silent scream ricocheting through his mind. he had no idea how to process what he was feeling. anger? disbelief? a nauseating mix of both?

the universe wasn't just mocking him  ━  it was toying with him. what were the odds? his hands curled into fists at his sides as he glared at the screen, trying to will it away.

more videos flashed onto the screen, showing other participants getting slapped, but taeha barely registered them. he prayed, prayed, that his own face wouldn't appear next. it wasn't just about avoiding humiliation, though that was a large part of it. the real terror clawing at his chest was the thought of myeong-gi spotting him here, in this hellhole of a situation.

to his immense relief, his face never appeared on the screen. maybe the universe didn't hate him entirely.

"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," the masked man continued. "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."

taeha exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin.

"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?"

the logic was irrefutable. what else could they do? this was their last shot at digging themselves out of the bottomless pit of their lives. the alternative was to crawl back into the misery they'd come from. that wasn't living ━ it was surviving. and taeha was tired of surviving.

the lights dimmed again, and the room filled with whispers of confusion as a mechanical hum descended from above. taeha glanced up and blinked in disbelief as a massive piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling. suspended in midair, its glossy surface gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

"what the hell?" taeha muttered to himself.

a piggy bank?

"what you see now is the piggy bank where your valuable prize money will be stored," the masked man explained. "after each of the six games you will play, the prize money will accumulate in this piggy bank."

taeha stared at the giant pig, his thoughts racing.

how much money are we even talking about here?

someone beat him to the question. "how much is the prize money?"

taeha straightened slightly, trying to appear indifferent as he shoved his hands into his pockets. but his ears were tuned to every word, his heart pounding in anticipation.

"the prize money for the games is 45.6 billion won in total."

taeha's breath caught, and his lips parted as the number settled in his brain. 45.6 billion won?

"holy shit..." he murmured under his breath.

his mind reeled, struggling to process the sheer enormity of it. that wasn't just life-changing  ━  it was life-shattering. it was enough to erase every ounce of debt he had and still live comfortably for the rest of his days.

"and one of us will get it?" the guy from earlier presses.

"we will give you the details about the distribution of the prize money after the first game. for these games, you will be given a special new advantage."

"what is it?" an elderly man asks.

"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."

taeha rolls his eyes. quit now, when there's that much money at stake? who in their right mind would even consider that?

"are you saying," someone else speaks up again, "we'll still receive the money, even if we leave after the first game?"

the square-masked man is silent for a moment before finally responding. "that is correct."

what happens next, taeha has no fucking idea.

the number burns into his brain, larger than life and impossible to fully comprehend. if he wins the six, that staggering amount of money would be his. 45.6 billion.

it was life altering on a scale he couldn't wrap his head around. his hands instinctively tighten in his pockets as he fights the urge to fidget. it's insane. completely absurd. yet here it is, dangling in front of him like a glimmering prize at the end of a dark and twisted tunnel.

taeha's thoughts drift to the game that had brought him here  ━  the bizarre ddakji match with the man in the suit on the subway. that had been pretty easy, almost laughably so. a simple flip of a folded paper tile. taeha was only slapped twice. could the games here really be just as simple? just six games, and all his suffering, all his debts, all his problems would evaporate like smoke.

it's too good to be true. he knows that. deep down, in the rational part of his mind, he knows this entire setup is shady as hell. the masked organizers, the strange location, the sheer amount of money  ━  it all screams danger. but what choice does he have? his desperation outweighs his doubt.

if things get too complicated... maybe he'll think about quitting. maybe.

a sudden shuffle of movement breaks his reverie, and taeha blinks, snapping back to the present. he realizes, with a jolt of mild panic, that all the participants have lined up in seven orderly rows. his stomach churns as he glances around, trying to piece together what he missed.

damn it, when had they given instructions?

swallowing his unease, taeha decides to play along. he quickly steps into the second row, adopting an air of indifference to mask his confusion. hopefully, no one notices he's completely clueless.

when his turn finally comes, taeha steps forward. the masked person standing before him is silent, their posture unnervingly still. they hand him a piece of paper without a word. taeha's gaze drops to the document, his eyes scanning the text.

▍ PLAYER  CONSENT  FORM :
O1.  a player's not allowed to voluntarily quit the games.
O2.  a player who refuses to play will be eliminated.
O3.  the games may be terminated upon a majority vote. in case of a tie, players will vote again.
O4.  if the games are terminated, players will divide the prize equally.

the rules are simple, concise, and far too ominous for his liking. the word eliminated stands out like a glaring red flag, but taeha forces himself not to dwell on it.

he exhales slowly, his breath barely audible, before picking up the pen lying next to the form. his hand hovers for a brief moment, but it's not hesitation. he's made up his mind already. without overthinking it, taeha scrawls his signature at the bottom of the page, sealing his fate.

whatever he's signing up for, it can't be worse than the life he's already living.

he'd planned to head back to 'his' bed after this. all the endless talking had worn him out. all he wants now is to collapse onto his bed and let the weight of the day fade into nothing. but, of course, life never goes according to plan.

a scream echoes through the room, and taeha turns his head to find the source ━ standing in the center of the commotion, flushed with equal parts embarrassment and irritation, is none other than his ex-boyfriend.

taeha only stares. you've got to be kidding me.

the man is mid-argument with another participant. from what taeha can gather, myeong-gi seems to be getting scolded, though the exact reason escapes him. taeha sighs, dragging a hand down his face as frustration bubbles to the surface.

of course. of course, it's him.

"for fuck's sake," taeha mutters, shaking his head as he turns away from the scene.

he's too tired to deal with this right now.

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