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━━𝒯he stark silence that followed the chaos of the first game felt suffocating. Mira leaned against the nearest wall, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins but beginning to ebb. Her breaths came unevenly as she surveyed the room, which had turned into a chilling tableau. Many players stood frozen, their expressions a mix of disbelief and relief, while others broke down, sobbing on their knees.

On the large screen above, the numbers shifted ominously, hammering home the reality of what had just occurred.

"Congratulations for making it through the first game. Here are the results of the first game," announced one of the pink-suited guards, their masked face betraying no hint of emotion.

The room collectively held its breath as the screen blinked and displayed the final tally.

"Out of 456 players, 91 players have been eliminated. Three hundred sixty-five players have completed the first game. Congratulations again for making it through the first game," the guard concluded.

Mira exhaled, her legs trembling slightly. Ninety-one people. Ninety-one lives snuffed out in mere moments. She felt a pang of nausea but forced herself to focus. Looking around, she spotted Myunggi. He was calm-or at least appeared so-standing with an air of detached composure, his sharp eyes scanning the room. For a moment, their gazes met, but he offered no words, just a subtle nod.

Suddenly, a woman collapsed to her knees nearby, her cries piercing the air.

"Sir! Please don't kill us!" she sobbed, clutching her hands together as though in prayer. Her desperation was palpable, raw.

Next to her, a younger man, likely her son, mirrored her stance. His voice cracked as he joined in her pleas.
"Please don't kill us. I beg you! As for my son's debt, I will do whatever it takes to pay you back! Please forgive us!"

The woman turned sharply to the young man beside her, her voice frantic.
"Don't just stand there. Beg for his forgiveness!"

The young man hesitated before dropping to his knees.
"I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I promise I'll pay it back!"

The sound of their wails filled the room, echoing off the cold, metallic walls.

Mira crossed her arms, watching the scene with a detached amusement that she couldn't entirely explain. She smirked faintly, her sharp features catching the dim light. Pathetic, she thought. In a place like this, begging wouldn't change a damn thing.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding," the masked guard began, his voice calm but firm.

His attempt to speak was drowned out by a cacophony of voices as other players began crying out, pleading in a disjointed chorus.

"Please don't kill us!"
"Please spare us!"

They crawled on the floor, reduced to something primal. Their tears were thick and heavy, their voices hoarse with desperation.

The guard waited for the noise to subside before continuing, his tone steady.
"We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity."

An opportunity. Mira's lips curled into a cynical smile. That was one way to frame it.

"Clause three of the consent form: 'The games may be terminated upon a majority vote,' correct?" Player 456's voice cut through the noise like a knife.

The room fell silent, all eyes turning toward him.

"That is correct," the guard replied, his tone unchanged.

"Then let us take a vote right now," the older man said, his voice resolute.

The guard tilted his head slightly, as if considering the request. Finally, he nodded.
"Of course. We respect your right to freedom of choice."

A collective murmur rippled through the players. Relief? Anxiety? Mira couldn't tell. Likely a mix of both.

"But first," the guard interjected, his voice commanding their attention once more, "let me announce the prize amount that's been accumulated."

Clever move, Mira thought, narrowing her eyes. He was dangling the carrot, trying to manipulate them into staying. She wasn't stupid-she saw through it immediately.

"The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated."

Mira's heart skipped a beat. Nine billion. It was a staggering sum. But even as the figure settled in her mind, she did the math. That wouldn't even scratch the surface of her debts.

"If you quit the games now," the guard continued, "the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share."

Mira quickly calculated in her head. That would be roughly 24 million won per person. It was a lot of money for the average person, but for her? It was barely a dent in what she owed.

"Fuck. We almost died, and they're giving us 24 million? That's fucking bullshit," someone muttered angrily.

Another voice chimed in, louder, more indignant. "Twenty million? You said 45.6 billion!"

The crowd's frustration grew palpable, their voices overlapping in heated murmurs. Mira leaned against a bunk bed, observing the chaos. Myunggi was beside her, his expression neutral but his body language alert.

"The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player," the guard explained, his voice unyielding. "If you choose to play the next game and more players get eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly."

"Shit's about to go down," Myunggi murmured, his voice low enough for only Mira to hear. He glanced at her sideways. "Are you going to keep playing?"

She shrugged, her lips quirking into a smirk. "Why not? I mean, if I could steal the money Thanos earns, I wouldn't even have to finish. But, you know what they say-'do it for the plot.'"

Myunggi chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're insane."

The guard's voice cut through again.
"As I already told you, the total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won. Those who make it through all six games will equally divide the 45.6 billion won."

A player in the crowd spoke up. "So if you're the only one to survive, you get 45.6 billion?"

"That's correct," the guard confirmed.

The room buzzed with a renewed energy, a dangerous mix of greed and desperation.

"So we can take a vote again and decide to leave after the next game?" another player asked.

"As promised in the consent form, you can take a vote after each game and decide to leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point," the guard reassured them. "We always prioritize your voluntary participation. Now, let's begin the vote."

Mira's head snapped up, curiosity piqued.

"If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button," the guard explained. "The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers."

The players shifted uneasily, the weight of the decision pressing down on them.

"Player 456," the guard called, and the old man stepped forward.

Before he could make his choice, a woman's voice rang out, sharp and fervent.
"It's all pointless! You didn't decide when to come into this world, and you can't decide when you leave it either!"

Mira raised an eyebrow. This woman was certifiably insane.

"When and where you die were already decided by the gods the moment you were born," the woman continued, her voice echoing eerily. "No matter how hard you try, you can never escape it."

Her words lingered in the air, chilling and unnerving. Mira shivered, shaking off the unease. This place was crawling with lunatics.

The older man cast her a glance before pressing the X button. A soft beep confirmed his vote.

The tension in the room was palpable, a thick, suffocating weight that settled over the crowd like a storm cloud ready to burst. The players stood shoulder to shoulder, their faces pale and drawn under the fluorescent lights that illuminated the grim reality of their predicament. The crimson-clad guard, faceless behind his mask, stepped forward with a mechanical precision, his voice monotone and devoid of emotion.

"Once you finish voting, put the patch you are given on the right side of your chest and stand on the side you have chosen." His words were clinical, the lifeless delivery stripping the act of any semblance of choice.

As the voting commenced, a palpable divide emerged among the players. For some, the allure of unimaginable wealth outweighed the danger. For others, the memory of the blood-soaked field from the first game was too vivid to ignore. Whispers of dissent and determination rippled through the group, a cacophony of fear and greed, until a voice cut through the noise like a blade.

"Wait a minute, everyone!" Player 456's voice rang out, his tone desperate, bordering on frantic. His face was a map of anguish, etched with lines of guilt and determination.

"You can't do this. Come to your senses! Don't you see? These aren't just any games. We will all die if we keep playing!" His words sent a shiver down Mira's spine, her body reacting instinctively to the raw, unfiltered panic in his voice.

He took a step forward, his eyes scanning the room, pleading for understanding. "We have to get out of here now. With a majority vote, we can! We must stop here!" His voice cracked on the last word, a tangible reflection of his internal struggle.

But his impassioned plea was met with resistance. A man in the crowd, his face twisted in frustration, stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger at 456.

"Who do you think you are? Why do you keep egging people on like that?" he spat, his tone laced with disdain. "You scared us by saying they'd shoot us before the game even began!"

"That's right!" another player chimed in, her voice shrill with anger. "He was going on about how we'd die, and I almost did because I got so nervous!"

A murmur of agreement swept through the crowd, voices rising in a chaotic symphony of doubt and accusation.

"How did you know they were going to shoot us?"

"Are you one of them?"

"Are you conning us all by pretending to be a player?"

"Who is this guy? Did you plant him to mess with our heads?"

The accusations came like rapid-fire bullets, each one more biting than the last. Mira stood silently, her gaze shifting from one speaker to the next. The scene unfolded before her like a tragic play, the players driven to madness by their own desperation.

But then, another voice emerged-a calm, measured tone that cut through the chaos like a lighthouse piercing a storm. An older woman stepped forward, her presence commanding despite her diminutive stature.

"Come on now. Please don't do this. Listen. None of us would be alive if it weren't for this gentleman. Let's put our lives first and get out of this place! Okay?" Her words carried a quiet strength, her gaze steady as she addressed the crowd.

"That's right!" someone echoed, emboldened by her conviction.

"Let's all get out of here!"

The room descended into a heated debate, voices overlapping in a crescendo of emotion. Shouts of "No, we have to keep playing!" clashed with cries of "We can't risk it!" The air grew heavy with tension, Mira's head throbbing as the arguments blurred into white noise.

And then, 456's voice rose above the fray once more, a desperate edge sharpening his words. "I have played these games before!" he shouted, the declaration silencing the room in an instant.

All eyes turned to him, the weight of their attention pressing down on his shoulders. "I have done this before! I knew about the first game because I had played it before!" His voice trembled, not with fear, but with the burden of his memories.

"I played the games here three years ago!" he continued, his tone heavy with the weight of his confession. "Everyone else died."

The revelation hung in the air like a guillotine, the collective intake of breath almost deafening.

"They all died?" someone whispered, the disbelief palpable.

"All of them?"

"Really? No way."

"Hold on. If they all died, how did you survive alone?" The man from earlier, still skeptical, pressed him further.

"Wait, are you saying you were the sole winner?"

"That's right," 456 confirmed, his gaze unwavering. "I was the final winner. If we continue the games, every single person here, just like all the people back then, will die in the end."

His words ignited a firestorm of doubt and defiance.

"Bullshit," someone barked.

"If you were the sole winner, it means you won 45.6 billion won. If you really did, why would you come back here?"

"That's right! He's lying! Cut the crap!"

"He's a total nutcase!"

"If someone like you can win, so can I!"

The room erupted into chaos once more, the players feeding off each other's fear and greed. Mira watched the scene unfold, her expression unreadable. She had no illusions about the stakes of the game. Winning was a slim possibility, but she wasn't here for wealth. Her purpose was vengeance, cold and unrelenting.

When the vote concluded, the result was clear: the games would continue. Mira felt nothing as she pressed the O symbol, her resolve unshaken. She joined the group of players who had chosen to stay, her movements mechanical, her mind fixed on her goal.

As she stepped into the group, a familiar, unwelcome presence sidled up beside her.

"I told y'all we can count on my girlfriend, right Mira?" Thanos, the purple-haired nuisance, slung an arm around her waist, his touch sending a wave of disgust through her. He grinned, his hand sliding up and down her side in a calculated display of possession.

"Woah, didn't know you had such a pretty girlfriend. She's a trophy!" one of his minions chimed in, his comment earning a sharp glare from Mira.

With a swift motion, she shrugged Thanos off, straightening her clothes with an air of finality. "You ass, you forgot the 'ex' before the 'girlfriend' part. Get lost, thank you." Her voice was ice, cutting and dismissive.

Thanos stared after her, his expression a mixture of shock and irritation as she walked away without a backward glance.

Mira sought refuge on one of the lower bunks, her intention to grab a moment's respite interrupted by a commotion nearby. The sound of raised voices and expletives drew her attention, her curiosity piqued.

"Motherfucker."

"Son of a bitch."

"You asshole."

"Knock it off."

"Fucking asshole."

The barrage of insults painted a vivid picture of the scene before Mira even looked up. Thanos and his minion were locked in a heated argument with Myunggi, the tension between them crackling like electricity.

Mira observed from her perch, her lips curling into a wry smile as the confrontation escalated. Myunggi, unyielding and sharp-tongued, held his ground against the pair, his disdain evident in every word.

"You piece of shit."

"Be grateful and fucking eat what you're given!" a male voice rang out, his words as cutting as his glare.

Mira decided she had seen enough. Rising from her spot, she strode toward the scene, her movements deliberate and unhurried. When she reached Thanos, she tapped him on the shoulder, waiting patiently for him to turn around.

And when he did, she didn't hesitate. Her fist connected with his face in a swift, calculated motion, the impact resonating through the room. Thanos staggered back, his hand flying to his jaw as he glared at her.

"You better watch your steps, Thanos," Mira hissed, her voice low and menacing as she leaned in close. "Because you can easily fall if you're trying to play the cool guy, which, by the way, doesn't suit you at all."

Her words hung in the air as she straightened, her gaze unwavering. Before Thanos could retaliate, Myunggi stepped forward, his presence a silent warning.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Myunggi asked, his concern genuine as he scanned her face for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine," Mira replied, brushing him off with a roll of her eyes. "Stop searching my face for bruises. What are you, part of the FBI?"

The tension was broken by Myunggi's quiet chuckle, the sound drawing a small, reluctant smile from Mira. In the background, Thanos muttered an apology, his voice barely audible over the announcement that followed.

"Attention, please. The second game will begin momentarily. Please follow the instructions from our staff."

The robotic voice echoed through the room, a chilling reminder of what lay ahead. Mira's heart raced, a mixture of fear and anticipation coursing through her veins. She was ready-ready to face whatever horrors awaited, her resolve unshaken.