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━━𝒯he sound of the whistle echoed through the hall, sharp and commanding, as the first group of players began the Six-Legged Pentathlon. Their stumbling movements drew a mix of cheers and groans from the spectators. The rules were clear: move as a team with their legs tied together, face the mini-games at every checkpoint, and make it to the finish line within five minutes. Simple in theory, but agonizingly difficult in practice.

Mira, Myunggi, Namra, Yuro, and Junseo stood huddled near the starting line, watching the chaos unfold as the first group struggled to coordinate. One player tripped, nearly pulling their entire team down with him, while another cursed loudly as the ddakji tiles refused to flip. Mira's hands clenched into fists. The stakes were painfully real. Failing this game didn't just mean losing-it meant risking elimination. And elimination here didn't just mean going home.

"Look at them," Junseo muttered, his eyes narrowing as he observed the first team. "They can't even get past the first checkpoint. It's a mess."

"Focus on us," Myunggi replied, his voice calm but commanding. "We're not them. We'll move together, and we'll make it through."

Mira glanced at Myunggi, his unwavering confidence a stark contrast to the churning storm in her chest. She didn't know whether to admire him or envy his composure. Turning her attention back to the field, she noticed Namra fidgeting nervously, her hands twisting the hem of her shirt.

"You okay, Namra?" Mira asked softly, placing a hand on the younger girl's shoulder.

Namra nodded, though her voice trembled when she spoke. "I'm fine. Just... it's a lot to take in."

Mira gave her a reassuring smile. "We've got this. You've got this. Remember, you're not alone."

"Attention, please. Players, please wait while we tidy up the venue." The female robotic voice echoed through the whole field as more and more players were eliminated, making Mira's group the next one in line.

Namra's lips curved into a faint smile, though her anxiety didn't fully fade. Mira squeezed her shoulder one last time before turning to Yuro and Junseo. "Everyone ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," Yuro said, adjusting his glasses. "But let's be real-this isn't just about the games. It's about staying coordinated. If we don't move as one, we're done."

"Then let's not screw it up," Junseo quipped, cracking his knuckles. His casual bravado didn't hide the tension in his jaw.

The robotic voice boomed overhead: "Next group, prepare to begin."

Mira's heart leapt as their team stepped into position. Their legs were bound together with thick, coarse ropes, forcing them to stand shoulder-to-shoulder in an awkward line. Each step would require absolute synchronization-a single misstep could send them all sprawling.

"Alright," Myunggi said, his tone steady. "We move on my count. Left, then right. Got it?"

"Got it," Mira echoed, and the others nodded in agreement.

The whistle blew, and they lurched forward, their tied legs moving clumsily at first. "Left!" Myunggi called, his voice cutting through the noise. "Right! Left!"

Step by step, they found a rhythm, their movements becoming smoother as they adjusted to the awkward constraints. The finish line loomed in the distance, tauntingly far away. But their immediate goal was the first checkpoint: ddakji.



As they reached the checkpoint, Yuro stepped forward, his sharp eyes fixed on the ddakji cards infront off him. The game was simple: flip the opposite tile with a well-placed slap of your own. Simple-but deceptively difficult under pressure.

"Think you can handle it, Yuro?" Junseo teased, though there was an edge of seriousness in his tone.

"Watch and learn," Yuro replied, as he carefully lined up his shot, his hand hovering over his own tile. Mira held her breath as he brought his hand down in a swift, precise motion. The impact sent a sharp echo through the hall-and the blue tile flipped cleanly onto its back.

"Yes!" Namra exclaimed, her relief palpable.

"Nice work, Yuro," Myunggi said, clapping him on the shoulder as they tied their legs back together. "Let's move."

The team shuffled awkwardly toward the second checkpoint, their movements jerky but functional. The crowd's cheers and jeers blurred into white noise as Junseo stepped up for the next game. The goal: throw a small, flat stone against another one placed two meters away. Precision and control were key.

"I've got this," Junseo said confidently, rolling the stone between his fingers.

"You better," Mira muttered under her breath, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

Junseo took his position, narrowing his eyes as he calculated the angle. He tossed the stone lightly into the air, catching it once before taking aim. His first throw fell just short of the other stone, drawing a collective groan from the spectators.

"Focus, Junseo," Myunggi said, his tone even but firm.

"I'm focused," Junseo snapped back, though he took a calming breath before picking up the stone again. His second throw was smoother, more deliberate. The stone arced gracefully through the air, hitting the larger stone perfectly.
"Nice!" Mira said, a genuine grin spreading across her face. "Let's keep going."

By the time they reached the third checkpoint, sweat was dripping down Mira's forehead, but she didn't let it deter her. Gonggi was her game, and she wasn't about to let her team down. The task was straightforward: juggle five small stones in a series of increasingly complex patterns without dropping any.

"Alright, Mira," Myunggi said, his voice softer now. "You've got this."

She nodded, crouching down as the stones were handed to her. The first round was simple-toss one stone into the air, pick up another from the ground, and try to catch them all. Mira's movements were swift and precise, muscle memory kicking in from countless childhood games.

The second round required juggling two stones, then the rest. Mira's hands moved faster, the stones clicking softly as they collided mid-air. Her concentration was absolute, her world narrowing to just the stones and her hands. In the third round she had to grab three stones and catch the rest while throwing them into the air. The fourth round was similar, except she had to grab four Gonggi stones.

It was time for the final round.

Mira inhaled deeply, steadying herself. This time, she had to juggle all five stones, catching and tossing them in a seamless rhythm. Her fingers moved like clockwork, deftly catching and releasing the stones with practiced ease. When the final stone landed in her palm, a cheer erupted from her teammates.

"Show-off," Junseo teased, but there was admiration in his voice.

"Let's go," Mira said, a triumphant grin lighting up her face.


Namra stepped up for the fourth game, her hands trembling slightly as she picked up the metalic top. The goal was to spin it and keep it going for at least ten seconds. A simple task-unless your nerves were shot.

"You can do this, Namra," Mira said, squeezing her shoulder.

Namra nodded, though her hands shook as she wound the string tightly around the top. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the string with a sharp tug, sending the top spinning across the designated surface. It wobbled precariously at first, but Namra leaned forward, willing it to keep spinning.

"Come on, come on," she whispered under her breath.

The top steadied, spinning smoothly as the seconds ticked by. When a guard showed the sign of success, Namra let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over her like a tidal wave.

"Well done, Namra," Myunggi said, his rare smile returning. "One more to go."

The final game was Myunggi's-a test of balance and coordination. He had to kick a small shuttlecock-like object into the air and keep it from hitting the ground for at least five kicks.

"Piece of cake," he muttered, rolling his shoulders as he stepped forward.

The first few kicks were effortless, his movements fluid and precise. Mira watched in awe as he navigated the game with an almost arrogant ease. By the time he reached five kicks, it was clear that he'd exceeded expectations.

"Alright, let's finish this," Myunggi said, rejoining the group.

With all five games completed, the team was ready for the final sprint to the finish line. The clock was ticking-only seconds remained. Mira's lungs burned as they pushed forward, their legs pumping with everything they had left. The finish line drew closer, the crowd's roar reaching a fever pitch.

"Don't stop!" Myunggi shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

They crossed the line with mere seconds to spare, collapsing onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion and relief. For a moment, no one spoke, their heavy breaths the only sound.

Then, Mira looked at Namra, who was clutching her chest, gasping for air as tears welled up in her eyes. The younger girl's fragile composure seemed to shatter in the aftermath of their harrowing ordeal.

"You okay, Namra?" Mira asked softly, her voice tinged with concern.

Namra nodded, though the tears spilling down her cheeks told a different story. "I'm fine... I'm fine," she said, her voice trembling. "I just... I didn't think we'd make it."

Mira knelt beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We did, though. Look around. We're still here. That's all that matters."

Namra sniffled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand, managing a small, shaky smile. "Thank you. All of you."

"Don't get all sentimental on us now," Junseo teased as he sprawled out on the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "We barely scraped by. Let's save the emotional speeches for when we win this whole thing."

"Barely scraped by?" Yuro interjected, adjusting his glasses. "I'd say we handled it pretty well, considering the stakes. Everyone pulled their weight."

"Yeah," Myunggi agreed, his voice steady but noticeably softer. "We did what we had to do. That's what matters."

Mira glanced at Myunggi, catching the faint trace of a smile on his lips. She couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride in their team. Despite their differences, they had worked together and survived one of the most grueling challenges yet.

The robotic voice crackled to life overhead, interrupting the moment.
"Team 15 has completed the Six-Legged Pentathlon in four minutes and fifty-five seconds. Congratulations."

A wave of relief washed over the group as the announcement confirmed their success. The tension in the air seemed to lift, replaced by a tentative hope.

The team was escorted back to the sleeping hall, where other players milled about in various states of exhaustion and despair. Some teams had failed spectacularly. Others, like Mira's team, had barely made it, their relief palpable but short-lived as the reality of the situation settled in.

"Five seconds to spare," Yuro muttered as he sank into a nearby bench. "That was too close."

"Close, but we made it," Myunggi said, leaning against a bunk bed with his arms crossed. "And that's what matters. No point in dwelling on what could've happened."

Mira sat down next to Namra, who was still clutching her knees to her chest. "Hey, Namra," she said gently. "You were amazing out there. You kept that top spinning like a pro."

Namra looked up, her face lighting up at the compliment. "Really? I was so scared I'd mess it up."

"But you didn't," Mira replied with a warm smile. "You pulled through when it mattered most. We all did."

"Yeah, yeah, we're all heroes," Junseo said, though his tone lacked its usual sarcasm. He gave Namra a small grin. "But she's right. You did great."

Namra's cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head shyly. "Thanks."

The group fell into a brief silence, each lost in their thoughts. The weight of what they had just endured-and what was still to come-hung heavy in the air.

As the minutes dragged on, the team found themselves talking more, their shared experience forging a bond that hadn't existed before. Mira learned that Junseo was the eldest of three siblings and had joined the game to pay off his family's debts. Yuro, surprisingly, was a former chess champion who had lost everything after a scandal tarnished his reputation.

Namra's story was the most heartbreaking of all. Her father's illness had left their family in financial ruin, forcing her to gamble illegally in a desperate bid to save him. She hadn't meant to get caught, but here she was, fighting for her life alongside strangers.

"You're brave, Namra," Mira said softly after hearing her story. "A lot braver than I was at seventeen."

Namra shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't feel brave. I just feel scared."

"Being scared doesn't mean you're not brave," Myunggi said, his voice cutting through the quiet. "It means you're human. And as long as you keep moving forward, you're doing more than most people would."

Namra looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Thank you," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

Myunggi nodded, his expression unreadable.

The day stretched on, the remaining teams completing the Six-Legged Pentathlon one by one. Some succeeded, while others fell short, their failures marked by the sharp announcement of the robotic voice.

As the final team made their way to the hall, the robotic voice crackled to life once more:
"The Six-Legged Pentathlon is now complete. Congratulations to the teams who have advanced to the next round. Further instructions will be provided shortly."

A murmur swept through the room as players exchanged nervous glances. The next game was imminent, and no one knew what to expect. Mira felt her stomach twist with anxiety, but she forced herself to stay calm.

"We made it through this one," Myunggi said, his voice steady. "We'll make it through the next one too."

Mira nodded, her gaze meeting his. "Together."

Namra, Yuro, and Junseo chimed in with their agreement, their voices a mix of determination and fear. Whatever came next, they would face it as a team.

And they would survive-no matter the cost.