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━━ℳira's breath hitched as the guards marched them into the wide, ominous hall for the next game. Her steps faltered, but she quickly steadied herself, knowing she couldn't show weakness-not here, not now. Beside her, Myunggi walked with his usual self-assured stride, his sharp gaze flicking across the room as if memorizing every exit, every shadow. Mira clung to his side, unable to deny how much safer she felt with him there. His presence wasn't just comforting-it was grounding, as though his calm determination might somehow anchor her in the storm they were about to face.

Her pulse quickened, though, as the truth of her feelings began to seep into her thoughts. Was it comfort she felt around him, or something deeper? Something more dangerous? The way his dark eyes scanned the room with precision, the faint smirk that played on his lips when he caught her staring-it all made her head spin in ways she wasn't prepared to confront.

"You nervous?" Myunggi's voice broke through her thoughts, smooth and steady, laced with a confidence that was contagious yet tinged with a subtle vulnerability. His question lingered in the air as he turned to meet her gaze.

Mira hesitated for a fraction of a second before scoffing, determined to mask her unease. "Nervous? Please." She flipped her hair dramatically, flashing a grin that felt bolder than it was. "I can survive anything. I've got nerves of steel."

Her bravado earned a warm chuckle from Myunggi, the sound soft yet rich, like a melody meant just for her ears. That laugh-casual yet rare-did something to her heart, a tiny spark that flared brighter with each passing second. She stole a glance at him, only to find his expression unexpectedly tender, as though he saw through her facade and admired it anyway.

Before she could dwell on the moment, the massive steel doors at the far end of the hall groaned open, revealing a cavernous space lined with screens and cameras. The now-familiar robotic voice filled the room, its mechanical monotone echoing ominously.

"Welcome to your second game. This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five within the next ten minutes. Let me repeat: This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five within the next ten minutes."

The announcement sent a ripple of confusion and urgency through the crowd. Participants began murmuring nervously, their voices overlapping in chaotic bursts. The word "teams" seemed to throw everyone off, as if they'd expected something far more individualistic-or sinister.

Mira's heart thumped as she turned to Myunggi. His brow furrowed slightly, but he quickly masked his concern with a smirk. "Looks like we're sticking together, Mimi," he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

Her heart nearly skipped a beat. Mimi? Since when did he call her that? She felt her cheeks flush but played it cool, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course we are," she replied with a teasing smile. "That makes two of us. Now we just need to find three more people. Shouldn't be too hard."

As if to prove her point, Mira instinctively grabbed the sleeve of Myunggi's jacket, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand. The contact was brief, but it was enough to make Myunggi falter for the first time. His confident composure wavered as his ears turned an unmistakable shade of red. The infamous Player 333-known for his sharp mind and colder-than-ice demeanor-was blushing like a teenager caught in a love confession.

"Please divide into teams now," the voice repeated, this time accompanied by a countdown clock that appeared on the wall. Ten minutes. That was all they had.

The sight of participants scrambling to form alliances was both chaotic and unsettling. People were bartering, begging, even threatening in desperation to secure their spots. Mira glanced around uneasily, her stomach twisting at the raw fear on so many faces. Strangely, though, she also felt a flicker of... power. The suffering of others, the way they clawed at survival-it stirred something dark and unnamable in her. She hated it, and yet it was there.

As they maneuvered through the frenzied crowd, Mira stayed glued to Myunggi's side, her hand never straying far from his sleeve. Suddenly, a small tug on her shirt made her pause. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with a girl who couldn't have been older than seventeen. Her wide eyes, framed by dark lashes, held a mix of fear and determination that seemed too heavy for her young face.

"Um, I'm sorry to bother you," the girl began, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempt to sound composed. "Would you... maybe team up with me?"

Mira blinked in surprise but quickly softened. The girl's vulnerability was palpable, and something maternal stirred within her. "Actually, your timing's perfect," Mira said warmly. "We definitely need more people."

The girl visibly relaxed, letting out a breath she seemed to have been holding for an eternity. "Thank you," she said, her voice steadier now. "I'm Namra, by the way-Player 033."

"Nice to meet you, Namra," Mira replied, offering a reassuring smile. "I'm Mira, and this is Myunggi."

Myunggi nodded in acknowledgment, his expression softening slightly as he took in the younger girl's nervous demeanor. "Stick with us, Namra. You'll be fine."

As they navigated the crowd in search of two more teammates, Mira couldn't help but ask, "How old are you, Namra? You look really young to be here."

Namra hesitated before answering, her voice quiet but steady. "I'm seventeen. I, um... I gambled illegally to get here. My dad's sick, and we can't afford his treatment, so..." Her voice cracked, and she quickly wiped a tear from her cheek, as though embarrassed by her own vulnerability.

Mira froze, the girl's words hitting her like a punch to the chest. She placed a gentle hand on Namra's shoulder, her tone softening. "Oh, honey... You're so brave for being here. After this game, you stick close to me, okay? I'll look out for you."

Namra nodded, her lips trembling as she tried to hold back more tears. Mira gave her a reassuring squeeze before they continued weaving through the crowd.


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"Time's almost up. Please finalize your teams," the robotic voice announced, the countdown nearing its final minutes. Mira, Myunggi, and Namra had managed to recruit two more players: Yuro, a bespectacled young man with a quick wit and an uncanny talent for strategy, and Junseo, a scrappy fighter with a sharp tongue and an easy grin.

Their makeshift team huddled together as the voice delivered the rules for the game: the Six-Legged Pentathlon. Each member would have their legs tied together, forcing them to move as a unit. At every ten-meter mark, a mini-game awaited, each requiring a different skill set. To win, they would need to cross the finish line in five minutes-no small feat given the complexity of the tasks.

As the details sank in, tension crackled in the air. Myunggi took charge, his natural leadership shining through. "Alright, let's assign the games. Who's confident with ddakji?"

"I can do it," Yuro volunteered, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I've beaten people in subway stations more times than I can count."

"Good. What about Flying Stone?" Myunggi asked, glancing around the group.

"I'll take that one," Junseo chimed in, running a hand through his hair. "Used to play it all the time as a kid."

"Perfect. Namra, what about you?" Mira asked gently, noticing the younger girl fidgeting nervously. She reached out, taking Namra's hands in hers. "Don't worry, just pick something you're comfortable with."

Namra hesitated before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "Spinning Top. My mom used to play it with me when I was little."

"Great choice," Mira said, squeezing Namra's hands. "I'll do Gonggi, and Myunggi, you've got Jegi. Sound good?"

The group nodded, their expressions a mix of determination and dread. Mira's gaze lingered on Namra, her heart aching for the girl who had so much riding on this. "We're going to win," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "For all of us. For Namra."

Myunggi met her eyes, his expression unreadable but intense. "We will."

And with that, the first round had started.