#geum-ja

hours ago, you wouldn't have cared. now, it seems like you've found another person to live for.

with the stairs, each step is a climb over a battlefield full with bullets. the once colorful staircase now felt grey. all scattered remnants of the rebellion lay here from hours ago.

the metal shells crunch faintly beneath your feet, a chilling reminder of the war that raged above while you cowered below, and horror coils in your stomach as you realize the full scope of the violence that unfolded.

your eyes dart across the carnage...pockmarked walls, smears of blood, and the acrid scent of gunpowder lingering like a ghost...as you navigate the ascent, your broken shoe wobbles with every movement.

you focus intently on your footing, the flapping sole threatening to send you tumbling, your hands brushing the side railing for balance as you try to block out the images your mind conjures.

as you step up more stairs, a collective gasp ripples through the players ahead. the tension is felt as the group halts abruptly, their footsteps ceasing in unison.

your heart skips a beat, and you lift your gaze, curiosity warring with dread.

what you see freezes you in place.

a grotesque human chandelier.

it is a death display of retribution hanging from the ceiling.

the players who dared to join the revolt dangle lifelessly, their bodies suspended by ropes that bite into their flesh, shoulders dislocated from the strain of holding the dead weight, their heads lolling at unnatural angles.

bile rises in your throat, a bitter surge that threatens to spill over, the sight so visceral you can almost taste the coppery tang of blood.

you stand behind player 39, his broad back a partial shield, while hyun-ju lingers just behind you, her presence a faint comfort amidst the horror.

the stench of blood and the faint rot of decay assault your senses, and you clamp a hand over your mouth, fighting the urge to retch as the scene etches itself into your memory, a nightmare destined to haunt your dreams.

slowly, soft hands suddenly cover your eyes.

you recognize hyun-ju’s touch immediately, her fingers trembling slightly against your skin.

“don’t look,” she whispers, her breath warm against your ear, a protective shield against the gruesome spectacle.

unfortunately, you've seen everything.

also your ears remain unblocked, and the feminine robotic voice crackles to life over the speakers, its cold tone slicing through the silence.

“here, you are witnessing the fate of those who refused the democratic process of voting and instead tried to stop the games using violent means,” it speaks.

your lip quivers, and you peek through the small gap between hyun-ju’s middle and ring fingers, catching a glimpse of the blood-streaked bodies, the ropes creaking under their weight.

the smell intensifies which is metallic and sour. you swallow hard, your stomach churning.

“we will not tolerate any irrational behavior which attempts to destroy the fair rules of the game,” the voice continues.

you killed a guard yourself during the revolt, a fact that now claws at your conscience, and a shiver of fear runs through you as you realize you could be up there if the guards had bothered to investigate every participant.

“and such actions will be punished in accordance with our strict standards. we thank you again for your cooperation.”

the announcement ends with a mechanical click, leaving a hollow silence that presses against your eardrums.

the players resume their march, their footsteps echoing with a forced nonchalance, as if the horrific display hasn’t seared itself into their minds.

you stumble forward, hyun-ju’s hands falling away as you move, her presence steadying you from behind.

the weight of the chandelier lingers in your thoughts, a grim omen, and a dread settles in your chest.

this game could take something else from you, you realize, the fear coiling tighter with every step. it was only yesterday, though time feels distorted in this nightmare, when young-mi was torn from you.

now, she’s gone as if she never existed, her laughter, her touch, her love reduced to a fading echo in your heart.

yet she’ll always exist within you, a permanent imprint on your soul, a love that death cannot erase.

as you walk ahead of hyun-ju, your broken shoe dragging slightly, you enter a yellow room, the bright hue a jarring contrast to the darkness of your thoughts.

in the center stands a gumball machine, its glass dome gleaming under the artificial light, filled with colorful balls that twist your stomach with unease.

the sight stirs a pang of nostalgia and pain....those gumball and toy machines by the front doors of the diner where you worked, where young-mi would playfully beg for a coin, her eyes sparkling with delight.

now, the memory stings, a cruel reminder of what’s lost.

“welcome to your fourth game,” the robotic voice announces again, its tone devoid of warmth, snapping you back to the present.

you glance around, your eyes lifting to meet hyun-ju’s, who looks down at you with a mix of confusion and worry etched across her face.

hyunju's brow furrows, and she steps closer with her hand brushing your arm in silent support.

“this game will be played in two teams,” the voice continues, and you swallow hard, your throat dry with fear.

you’ve always hated team games, the dependency on others a vulnerability that sets your nerves on edge.

the only person you can truly trust is hyun-ju, and even that trust feels fragile after young-mi’s death. she senses your tension, her hand tightening around yours as you both join the line forming in front of the gumball machine, her grip a lifeline.

“please take turns drawing a ball from the gumball machine in front of you,” the voice instructs.

the line moves slowly, players stepping forward one by one, their faces mixed with apprehension and resignation. when you and hyun-ju reach the front, your hesitation is palpable, your fingers trembling as you stare at the machine’s swirling contents.

hyun-ju notices, stepping in front of you with a reassuring smile.

“i’ll go first,” she says softly, her voice a gentle balm.

she turns the knob with a steady hand, and a blue ball drops into her palm, its vibrant hue a stark relief.

a guard gestures with a stiff arm, directing her to the right. she glances back at you, her eyes saying a silent promise to stay close.

now it’s your turn.

your heart pounds as you step forward, your broken shoe scraping the floor. you reach for the knob, your mind screams a hope to please be blue, please be blue.

you turn it, the mechanism clunking.

a red ball tumbles out, the exact shade of the tulips young-mi obsessed over at the café down the street from your apartment.

your eyes widen, a gasp escaping your lips as you turn to hyun-ju, her worried expression mirroring your own.

the color hits you like a punch to the gut, a vivid reminder of young-mi’s joy, now tainted by this ominous draw.

“what does this mean?” you whisper, your voice quivering as you clutch the ball, its smooth surface cold against your palm.

the last player draws their ball, but you stand there with dread as you watch. the clatter of the gumball machine’s mechanism fades into an uneasy silence.

the guard, a towering figure in his pink suit, finally breaks the stillness, his voice cutting through the air with a cold edge.

“the game you will be playing is hide-and-seek,” he announces, and your mouth falls open slightl, a gasp escaping as the implications sink in.

one team here will be the seekers or the hunters in this deadly arena.

your eyes dart to hyun-ju, her face mirroring your horror as she stands a few paces away, the blue ball in her hand a stark contrast to the red one clutched in yours.

“the blue team must either find the exit and escape within thirty minutes or stay hidden from the red team until time is up,”

the guard continues, his tone devoid of mercy. the realization hits you like a physical blow since you are a seeker, tasked with hunting the blue team. the thought of pursuing hyun-ju or others with intent to kill sends a shudder through your frame.

you watch, frozen, as the blue team, hyun-ju among them, is handed small boxes by another guard, the contents obscured but hinting at something defensive, perhaps weapons to protect themselves.

your mind races, wondering if those boxes contain tools for survival, a slim chance against the red team’s aggression.

“what about the taggers?” a man’s voice calls out from behind you, rough and breaking your thoughts.

you glance to your right, your eyes settling on junhee who is beside you, her figure slightly hunched as she leans forward, one hand clutching her fully grown pregnant belly.

the woman's teeth are clenched, her face pale with strain, and concern knots your stomach.

you lean closer, your voice a hushed whisper.

“junhee, are you alright?”

she nods weakly, forcing a tight smile. however, the lie is evident in the way her hand trembles against her abdomen, and your heart aches for her vulnerability.

the guard’s voice pulls your attention back, his words dropping like stones into the silence.

“the red team must kill the blue team,” he states, his gaze under the masks sweeping over you all with unfeeling precision, “if you fail to kill any opposing players, you will be eliminated.”

the hope of safety as a red player drains away, replaced by a hollow dread.

do i have the guts to kill someone?

you’ve already taken a guard’s life during the revolt, a moment of desperation you justified as self-defense, their relentless pursuit of players a clear threat.

this is different.

these are fellow players, people with families, hopes, fears, just like you. the thought twists your insides, and you glance at hyun-ju, who scans the room before her eyes meet yours, a flicker of light horror passing over her features.

she opens her blue box, revealing a key necklace that glints faintly in the light, and holds it up to the guard.

“what is this?” she asks, her voice steady.

the guard’s response is emotionless.

“you have been given keys to the doors around the arena. you can use that key to go through doors, but once a door is unlocked, it cannot be locked again.”

your hands begin to shake, the red ball slipping slightly in your sweaty palm as you imagine hunting players with nothing but your bare hands.

you know taekwondo, eight years of disciplined training, but it was always for defense...blocks, escapes, never to attack, never to kill.

the guard’s next words jolt you.

“we’ve prepared a gift for the red players as well,” he says, and a murmur rises among the group, voices echoing your own thoughts.

red boxes are distributed, and when yours is handed to you, you open it with a faint gasp.

inside lies a knife, its blade heavy and gleaming, the handle adorned with a pretty wash of cyan blue and pink...colors mirroring the staircases outside, a cruel irony.

you look back at hyun-ju, shaking your head in dismay.

she frowns, her expression helpless, unsure how to ease your torment.

a man a little ahead on your team, player 124, lets out an excited whoop, twirling his own knife with a grin that sends a shiver down your spine.

as he cuts his finger purposely, you cringe.

freak, you think, the word a silent curse as you recall his strange and high demeanor during mingle.

the guard’s voice rises above the chatter.

“the red team can use knives to attack the blue team. however, members of the red team are not allowed to attack each other.”

the rule hangs in the air, a subtle foreshadowing for yourself that you don’t yet grasp.

you hold the knife, your fingers weak and tense around the handle, the weight of it foreign and foreboding as the guard continues.

“if any of you are unhappy with your role, you may switch roles with someone on the opposite team before the game starts.”

confusion ripples through the players, and a woman near the front calls out, “clarify that!”

the guard nods, his stance still, “you can swap your items and vests upon mutual agreement.”

the words spark a flicker of hope in you.

if anyone can keep you safe as a red player, it’s hyun-ju, her strength and experience a shield against this nightmare.

as players begin to split off, negotiating swaps, you stride toward her with determined steps, the knife box clutched in your hands.

“here,” you say, thrusting the red box toward her, your voice pleading, “take it.”

“no,” hyun-ju replies, shaking her head firmly, her hands remaining on her blue box.

“what do you mean, no?” you press, your tone rising with desperation, your eyes searching hers for understanding.

“i can defend myself being blue, you can’t,” she says, her voice gentle but resolute.

“i absolutely can, i also did taekwondo too, remember?” you counter, a spark of defiance igniting within you, recalling the eight years of training that shaped your reflexes.

“yes, but i have military experience,” hyun-ju argues, her hands settling on your shoulders, “and so do those men over there who would chase after you if you were a blue player. i will be okay, i promise.”

hyunju's words are meant to reassure, but they only deepen your fear.

“how am i supposed to kill another player?” you ask, your voice breaking, the knife’s weight a physical manifestation of your moral struggle.

hyun-ju pauses, her brow furrowing as she searches for an answer, the silence stretching for ten agonizing seconds.

“there's no easy way to say it,” she admits finally, her tone softening, “but make it painless and quick for them so you’ll feel less guilty about it later. it’s the best i can offer.”

you nod, the advice sinking in though it does little to down your terror.

“i will do it,” you say, your voice trembling but resolute, “and then find you and protect you. okay? i swear!”

you reach for her hands, her manicured fingers a stark contrast to the roughness of your own, and hold them tightly.

tears start welling in your eyes.

hyun-ju nods lightly, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “okay,” she whispers, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips.

you return it.

as hyun-ju and the other blue team members file out of the yellow room, their footsteps echoing with a mix of determination and dread, your heart sinks deeper into your chest.

junhee and geum-ja, having swapped roles with other players to join the blue team, disappear through the doorway, their departures leaving a hollow ache in your gut.

the sight of them leaving with junhee’s pregnant form waddling slightly, and geum-ja’s steady walk, nearly brings tears to your eyes.

how were you supposed to hunt?

the knife in your hand feels like a foreign object, and the thought of chasing down players or potentially friends sends a shiver of nausea through you.

your mind races, torn between the instinct to flee and the paralyzing fear of elimination.

your broken shoe scraping the floor as you shift your weight uneasily.

a voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts, casual.

“heyy friend,” it drawls.

you turn to see player 124 coming toward you, his grin wide and unnervingly carefree.

124's eyes are glassy, a sign he’s still high, the effects of whatever substance he’s taken having a manic edge to his movements.

you barely know him, his face a vague memory from the mingle game yesterday, and the knife in his hand glints as he waves it dramatically.

“what?” you ask.

your tone is sharp, your guard instantly up as you take a step back.

he smirks, twirling the blade with a flourish before pointing it toward you.

“do you want to partner up? we’re the only ones still alive from our group yesterday,” he says, his voice laced with a strange enthusiasm.

your eyes widen, a jolt of shock running through you as you scan the room, searching for se-mi’s familiar piercing-lined ears.

the realization hits...you forgot about her.

you didn't even realize that se-mi was dead.

“se-mi?” you whisper, your voice cracking with disbelief.

namgyu’s smirk widens, a cruel glint in his eye.

“noona made too many enemies trying to play fucking wonder woman,” he says, his tone dripping with mockery.

the words sting, a disrespectful jab at her memory that makes your blood boil.

did he kill her?

you clench your jaw, gripping your knife tighter.

“we were only a group for maybe five minutes yesterday,” you retort.

“yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be a duo now?” he counters, stepping closer and swinging his knife toward yours in an attempt at a high-five, the blades clashing with a metallic clang.

you pull back, unnerved, “i don’t even know your name,”

you say, your rebuttal a weak shield against his persistence.

“it’s namgyu, not namsu, namgyu,” he corrects, though you caught it the first time, his insistence grating.

“you don’t need to tell me yours since se-mi told thanos that your name was y/n yesterday when he was trying to hit on you.” the mention of thanos, another casualty you hadn’t fully processed, tightens the knot in your stomach.

“well, if you’re trying to hit on me too since he’s gone, don’t bother. i don’t swing your way,” you snap, your frustration spilling over.

he wiggles his eyebrows, glancing toward player 333 across the room, a sly grin spreading.

“i don’t swing your way either,” he says, his tone teasing.

“oh,” you murmur, the surprise softening your stance slightly.

“we can partner up, guarantee our survival for this game,” namgyu suggests, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, the knife still twirling in his hand.

the idea of having someone with you, someone to share the burden of this hunt, stirs a reluctant sense of security.

maybe with him, killing would feel less solitary, less unbearable.

hyun-ju’s absence still leaves an emptiness in you, and her promise to protect you is now out of reach.

“fine,” you concede, rolling your eyes as namgyu lets out a triumphant laugh.

twenty minutes pass by and right now, you stand beside namgyu.

there is a mockery with the starry-night-themed maze, the artificial constellations twinkling overhead casting an eerie glow around the carnage.

as you stand, a man below you in a blue vest lays in pain on the cold floor, his hands raised in a desperate plea, his voice trembling as he begs for his life.

“please, don’t do this! i have a family, I have a wife and a son!! i just want to go home!” he cries, his eyes wide with terror, tears streaking his dirt-smudged face.

a frown creases your brow, a pang of empathy tugging at your heart.

in any other circumstance, you’d rush to help him, to offer a hand up, to shield him from harm.

here, you can’t.

the red vest on your chest feels like a brand, a mark of your forced role as a hunter, and the knife in your hand trembles with the weight of that responsibility.

namgyu, his grin manic, raises his blade, “let’s finish him,” he says, his voice laced with a chilling eagerness as he steps forward.

you react instinctively, grabbing his arm to stop him, your grip tight despite your shaking hands.

“no, you can’t kill him,” you say, your voice laced with panic, “it would count as your kill. we need to split this—then we could kill another, and both get a full kill each.” your suggestion hangs in the air, a grim compromise.

however you shake your own head, rejecting your own idea even as you voice it.

“no, never mind. you take this one. i can’t… not yet.” y

ou break away from him, your heart pounding as you turn from namgyu, the man’s relieved sob fading behind you before being cut by namgyu's knife.

all you want is to find hyun-ju, to ensure her safety.

however, the maze stretches endlessly with its corridors swallowing any trace of her.

as you turn a corner, a group of blue players comes into view, their faces paling as they spot your red vest.

they squeal in unison, scattering like frightened deer, their footsteps echoing off the dirt ground as they flee.

you don’t chase them, your legs rooted to the spot, the knife hanging limp in your hand. the urge to hunt drains from you, replaced by guilt.

however, a woman’s cries pierce the silence and your heart leaps...hyun-ju.

you run toward the sound, your broken shoe still flapping with each hurried step, and fling open a door.

inside, a blue-vested woman slumps against the wall, her chest heaving with shallow, ragged breaths.

blood seeps from a wound near her heart, staining her vest a deep crimson, her face contorted in agony.

another red player must have wounded her, leaving her to suffer.

“please,” she gasps, her voice weak, “end my pain. just… get it over with.”

the woman's eyes lock onto yours, filled with a desperate plea, tears mixing with the blood on her cheeks.

your eyes widen, shock rooting you in place as she coughs, blood bubbling at her lips.

“please,” she begs again, her voice breaking, “i can’t take it anymore.”

you turn, scanning the corridor for any sign of others.

it’s empty, the maze’s silence amplifying her cries.

with a heavy sigh, you grip the knife, your hands shaking violently as you steel yourself.

it takes every ounce of your willpower to step forward, the blade trembling in your grasp.

the act drains you, a soul-crushing effort as you drive it into her lower body, ending her suffering with a swift, merciful thrust.

092's body slumps, lifeless, against the wall.

“player 092 eliminated, player 112 pass.”

the words freeze you, your breath catching as you watch her slide to the floor, the life gone from her eyes.

you’re safe, you’ve killed someone, but the victory is hollow.

it is a bitter taste on your tongue as you back away slowly, her blood dripping on your shirt.

the reality of your actions sink in.

hyun-ju is still out there, still in danger, and that thought propels you forward.

five minutes pass, each second stretching into eternity, before you turn another corner.

squeals echo through the maze, followed by an unexpected sound...a baby’s cry, high and piercing.

you run, heart racing, and fling open another door.

hyun-ju stands quickly, her stance defensive with her fists raised, but her expression softens as she recognizes you.

your eyes widen in shock as you take in the scene.

junhee sits on the floor, a newborn cradled in her arms, its tiny wails filling the room, while geum-ja hovers protectively in front of her.

all of the women look at you, not sure of what you're going to do as a red player.

“i killed somebody already,” you blurt out, your voice full with emotion.

“i’m here to protect you.” tears prick your eyes as you stare at the baby, its fragile life a contrast to the violence surrounding you.

hyun-ju lowers her fists, stepping closer.

“we need to find the exit,” she says, her voice urgent, the three keys on her neck shining as she gestures toward the door.

“no,” you counter, shaking your head.

“wait here in this room. i’ll stand outside the door. the exit could be far, and you’re safer here.” hyun-ju hesitates, “i don’t know if that’s the best idea,” she murmurs, but you press on.

“please, trust me. i can handle it out there.”

she nods reluctantly, and you shut the door behind you, positioning yourself directly in front, the knife still in hand.

the baby’s cries subside, and you check the timer on the wall.

seven minutes remain.

a red player approaches, player 039. the man's vest is stained with sweat, his knife at the ready.

“hey, have you seen any blue players?” he asks, his tone casual but edged with suspicion.

thinking quickly, you point down the corridor.

“two ran past me that way,” you lie, your voice steady despite the panic fluttering in your chest.

he nods and jogs off, disappearing around a bend.

relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived as namgyu rounds the corner, his grin faltering as he spots you.

“ohhh and I thought I lost you,” he says, though he doesn’t seem to notice your unease.

“i got a kill already,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral.

your body shifts to block the door.

namgyu nods, then tilts his head.

“what’s behind the door?” he asks, his suspicion growing as he steps closer.

you tense, your hand tightening on the knife.

“it is the woman I killed...player 092, I-i just don't want players to do anything wrong with her body.” you say, hoping to deter him.

however, namgyu reaches for the doorknob beside your hip, and panic surges.

without thinking, you draw your blade and slash at his arm, the knife cutting through fabric and flesh.

namgyu yelps, clutching his wound.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck? bitch?!” he whines, staggering back, his face contorted in pain.

“there’s nothing in here for you to worry about,” you say, standing your ground.

your voice is steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

namgyu glares but jogs off, muttering curses under his breath.

you exhale a shaky sigh of relief, your back pressed against the door as the timer ticks down.

the rest of the time seems to go on forever.

when the game ends, the timer beeping with the speaker woman announcing the conclusion, you open the door.

hyun-ju, junhee, and geum-ja sigh in unison, their faces breaking into relieved smiles as you step inside.

junhee struggles to her feet, the newborn nestled against her chest, and you move to help her, your hands gentle as you support her arm.

hyun-ju approaches, her eyes soft with gratitude.

“thank you,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. you lift her hand, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles, the gesture sweet.

“let’s get back to the dorms,” you suggest, your voice warm.

“we need to help junhee with her daughter.”

hyunju nods.

together, you begin the slow walk back, relieved knowing you survived another game.

as you move to support junhee, your gaze drops to hyun-ju’s ankle, where a deep cut oozes blood, the skin torn from some unseen struggle that you weren't there for.

concern floods you, and you pause, your voice gentle but urgent.

“hyun-ju, your ankle—are you okay?”

hyunju glances down, wincing slightly, then offers a reassuring smile.

“i should be fine,” she says, though the strain in her voice betrays her.

you shake your head, letting geum-ja help junhee as you stepping closer to the ex-marine.

“no, let me help you walk back to the dorms. we need to get junhee and her baby settled, and i’m not letting you limp on that.”

hyun-ju hesitates, but then her strong arms wrap around your shoulders, her grip firm as you adjust to her weight.

together, you limp out of the game, happy that you didn't lose someone else close to you.

next chapter will be linked here

full series masterlist linked here