________༻༒༺________

The soldiers returned, their presence as cold and unyielding as ever. But this time, they carried something new: trays filled with foil-wrapped food and glass bottles of soda. One by one, they began handing them out to the remaining players.

When I grabbed mine, I noticed the portions were smaller than before. I unwrapped the thin roll of gimbap and took the drink without a word, my stomach tightening at the realization of just how little we were being given to survive. Without meeting anyone's eyes, I made my way back to the seats where In-ho and Dae-oh were waiting. I slid into my place beside Dae-oh and cracked open my drink.

Dae-oh, ever the talkative one, leaned in slightly. "You know, Young-il," he began, glancing at In-ho, "I thought you might vote in favor like you did on the first day. I was so nervous I couldn't even watch. Oh, and Jung-bae said something weird earlier—"

Before he could finish, Jung-bae shoved a piece of his own gimbap into Dae-oh's mouth, silencing him mid-sentence. "Just eat your food," Jung-bae said, a sharp edge to his tone.

I couldn't help but glance between them, catching the tension. It was clear what Dae-oh had been about to say, and Jung-bae didn't want it brought up. He'd been nervous ever since the incident with In-ho in the last game.

After a moment, Jung-bae turned toward In-ho, his voice quieter but still uneasy. "Thank you, Young-il. You gave us another chance."

In-ho, sitting with his back straight and his gaze distant, didn't look at him. "No," he said flatly. "I didn't do it for you. I just want to stay alive. The money is enough now to make a difference, but only if I get out of here. Alive."

I watched him as he spoke, trying to gauge what lay behind his calm exterior, but his face gave away nothing. He was unreadable, the same way he'd been in the games.

"But do you think we'll actually be able to win the second vote?" came a voice from behind us. I turned to see Player 246, a man from the blue side, speaking up.

In-ho glanced at him, his voice sharp and certain. "We'll have to go all in, like Gi-hun said earlier. Convince some of them to change their minds before the next vote."

Player 7, the son of the older woman, scoffed. "Will they, though? Most of them have completely lost their minds over the money."

The older woman, Player 149, chimed in, her tone surprisingly calm. "The way I see it, we have a chance. Look at what we're eating—a single roll of gimbap. Everyone's going to be starving tomorrow. When you're hungry, you start to miss home. That's when doubt sets in."

Her son stood up suddenly, turning to the blue side with a big, exaggerated grin. "Hey! Don't overthink this while choking on this dry gimbap! Just one of you needs to come over to our side. If we leave tomorrow morning, I'll treat everyone to Korean beef! My treat!" His voice carried across the room, his tone playful but calculated.

The older woman stood up beside him, waving at the blue side with a smile. "And after that, the noodles are on me!" she added cheerfully.

I watched the two of them, knowing exactly what they were doing. They weren't just trying to persuade—they were trying to provoke, to plant seeds of doubt in the minds of the blue team.

It worked.

One of the older men on the blue side, Player 100, stood up, his voice booming across the room. "Once all of you die in the next game, we'll have 800 million each! Do the math! With 800 million won, I could buy a damn cattle ranch!"

The blue side erupted in agreement, rallying behind the older man. They were trying to convince us now, spouting off the fantasy of life after the games, a life filled with unimaginable wealth.

But Dae-oh wasn't having it. He stood abruptly, his voice cutting through the noise. "800 million? Are you serious? Do you honestly think you'll still be alive after the next game? If you don't get out now, you're all gonna die!" His tone was heated, his frustration bleeding through every word.

A younger man on the blue side sneered. "So what? Let's just play one more game and see who dies. Stop trying to run away like a coward."

That struck a nerve. Dae-oh chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "What did you just say? Coward?" He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the blue team. "Come here. Say that again to my face."

The tension in the room snapped.

The two sides started shouting, voices overlapping in a chaotic roar. Dae-oh moved closer to the line dividing the two groups, his hands clenched into fists, while the younger man on the blue side stepped forward as if daring him to cross it. Others joined in, shouting over one another, their words a jumbled mess of anger, fear, and desperation.

I stayed in my seat, watching as the argument escalated. My hands gripped my drink tightly, my heart racing as I saw the divide between the two teams growing wider. It felt like a spark waiting for a flame, and I could already see it burning out of control.

________༻༒༺________

The heated argument between the two teams eventually fizzled out, leaving the room heavy with tension. I climbed up to my bunk, sitting quietly as my mind raced. The intensity of the standoff still lingered, thick in the air. Despite the silence, I could feel the weight of the blue team's stares boring into us. They watched us carefully, their gazes sharp and mistrustful, like predators sizing up their prey. The lines between red and blue had never felt so stark.

Just as I thought things were calming down, the PA system chimed, cutting through the uneasy quiet. I froze, looking up.

"The following players have been eliminated," the woman's mechanical voice announced, cool and detached. My heart sank at the word eliminated. I wasn't the only one who tensed up; I saw heads whip toward the speakers.

"Players 230, 268, 299, 331, and 401. End of the list."

And just like that, the PA cut off.

For a moment, no one moved. Eliminated? The word echoed in my head. The games hadn't started again—so how?

Suddenly, a loud clatter rang out as more money poured into the piggy bank, the familiar clinking of cash cascading down into the glass container above us. All eyes snapped to the display board as the number of remaining players dropped. The total prize money ticked upward, each digit a cruel reminder of what had just happened.

Murmurs broke out across the room. Confusion turned into alarm as players exchanged looks, trying to piece together what was happening.

Just then, the doors on both sides of the room opened with a heavy clang. All heads turned to see several players stumble back in, covered in blood and breathing heavily. Their faces were twisted in anger and fear, and their uniforms were torn and stained.

One of the blue team players stepped forward, his voice trembling with rage. "Listen, Team O! While we were in the bathroom, those fucking X bastards tried to kill us! They ambushed us and killed some of us, including my friend!"

The red team bristled at the accusation. "Bullshit!" shouted one of our bloodied players, stepping forward from our side. His voice was just as charged. "You're the ones who started it, damn it! One of your guys threatened someone on our side first! You attacked us to sway the second vote!"

"That's a fucking lie!" one of the blue players yelled back, stepping closer. "You killed one of us first. You wanted to win the vote by taking us out one by one!"

"Are you kidding me? You killed our people, too! What, did you think we'd just sit back and let you murder us?" another red team member fired back.

Tensions boiled over instantly, the room once again erupting into chaos as players from both sides stood up and began shouting. Lines were drawn, and it was like the argument from earlier had reignited, only now the stakes were higher.

Player 10, one of the quieter voices on the red side, finally shouted over the noise, his tone sharp. "Wait! Which side lost more people?" His question silenced the room for a beat, and everyone turned toward the soldiers standing motionless by the walls.

The silence didn't last long. "Let's count!" Player 100 from the blue side yelled. "All right, everyone, let's count our numbers!"

The blue team scattered quickly, rounding up their people, some of them still glancing nervously at the bloodied players. Meanwhile, on our side, one of the survivors of the bathroom fight called out, "Red team, gather around! Everyone down here! Let's count!"

People began moving immediately, players climbing off their bunks or emerging from the shadows of the room. I slid off my bed and followed the others, descending the stairs to the main floor. My footsteps felt heavy as I joined the rest of the red team near the bunks.

The blue team stood across from us, huddled together as they began their count. Tension crackled in the air, palpable and suffocating. Every player was on edge, eyes darting between the teams, wondering which side had suffered the heavier losses.

             ________༻༒༺________

The room was unnervingly quiet as each side completed their counts. On our side, Player 47 crouched near the group, pointing discreetly as he tallied the remaining players. We all sat in tense silence, waiting for his final count. When he finished, he leaned in close so the blue team couldn't overhear and whispered, "Two people died on our side."

A small murmur rippled through our group.

"Two out of five," a female voice from our side said softly. "That means they lost three people."

"That's good for us," someone else whispered, their tone laced with a cautious optimism.

Jung-bae, always quick to strategize, spoke up with an assured nod. "Hey, it's 48 against 47. As long as none of us change our minds tomorrow, we'll win the vote by just one."

A faint wave of relief swept through the group, but it was subdued. Whispers of agreement passed among the players, though no one dared speak too loudly. We were all acutely aware of the blue team's eyes watching us, their guarded expressions giving nothing away.

The calm didn't last long. The PA system crackled to life again, followed by the familiar chiming sound.

"Attention, please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime," the cold, detached voice announced.

As the announcement faded, Player 47 stood up, his face serious as he addressed us quietly. "Listen," he began, looking directly at each of us. "You cannot change your minds. We have to win the second vote tomorrow. That's our way out of here. Agreed?"

Heads nodded around the circle, players murmuring soft affirmations. The atmosphere felt grim, but there was a shared resolve in our group—a thin thread of determination holding us together.

"All right," Jung-bae said, clapping his hands lightly to signal the end of the discussion. "Let's get some sleep now. We're going to need it."

One by one, players rose and made their way back to their bunks. The mood was somber, the weight of what had happened tonight—and what could happen tomorrow—hanging over all of us. I stayed seated, lost in thought as I watched the blue team.

They weren't quiet like us. They whispered amongst themselves, heads turning occasionally in our direction. Their eyes were sharp, their tension palpable. They knew the numbers weren't in their favor now. They knew we had the edge in tomorrow's vote. But the way they looked at us—it wasn't just frustration or worry. It was something darker. Something dangerous.

It was clear they weren't going to take their chances lying down.

I exhaled slowly, uneasy. As the players on the blue side began filing toward their beds, their movements deliberate, their eyes still darting toward us, I felt my stomach knot. Tonight wasn't going to be peaceful. It was written all over their faces.

Gi-hun stood near me, his gaze fixed on the blue team. He noticed it too.

My thoughts felt too tangled to put into words.

Turning away, I walked toward the middle bunks where our group often gathered to talk privately. I hesitated for a moment as I passed In-ho. He was standing still, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed the blue players returning to their beds. For a brief second, our gazes met. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

I broke eye contact and continued walking, brushing past him without a word.

________༻༒༺________

The tension in the room was suffocating, and most of us sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down harder as the lights overhead began to dim. I stayed seated beside Gi-hun, my arms crossed, trying to think through the chaos that was likely waiting for us. Dae-oh returned, his face grim as he glanced back at the blue team.

"Those bastards are acting suspicious," he muttered, lowering himself onto the bench.

I followed his gaze and saw the blue team gathered, speaking in hushed tones. Their movements were guarded, but their occasional glances toward us betrayed their intentions. My eyes locked with Player 203, a wiry man with a cruel smirk. He raised a hand, pointing first at himself, then at me, and made a slicing motion across his neck. My stomach churned, but I quickly looked away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me react.

"Whatever those idiots do," Jung-bae said, leaning back with forced confidence, "once we win the vote tomorrow, it'll all be over."

"You think we'll be okay?" Dae-oh asked, his voice quieter now. "I heard what happened in the bathroom. They said it got... brutal."

Gi-hun's expression darkened. "Once the lights go out, they'll attack us."

Everyone turned to him, startled by the bluntness of his words.

"Really?" Player 7 asked, his voice laced with unease.

Gi-hun nodded grimly. "Think about it. If they kill us, they'll have fewer people to sway in the vote. They'll win by default. And the prize pool will go up even more."

A heavy silence fell over the group.

"So what do we do?" Player 7 asked hesitantly, breaking the quiet.

It was In-ho who answered, his voice cold and calculated. "We let them make the first move."

The group turned toward him, startled by his sudden interjection. Even I felt a flicker of surprise, though I kept it to myself.

"They think we're just sitting waiting for the second vote," In-ho continued, his tone steady. "We use that to our advantage. The moment the lights go out, we strike first."

"What?" Gi-hun cut in, his voice sharp. "That's insane."

Player 47 his gaze sweeping over the group. "We have more women and older people on our side. If we sit back and wait for them to attack, we'll be at a disadvantage. But if we take the initiative, we'll have the upper hand."

"That's right," Player 246 chimed in, nodding firmly. "We'll catch them off guard."

Several players murmured in agreement, the plan gaining traction.

"No," Gi-hun said, his voice louder now. "We can't do that."

"We have to get out of here," In-ho replied coolly. "You said it yourself—sitting still won't get us anywhere."

I watched the exchange in silence before finally speaking up. "He's right," I said, and all eyes turned to me. "But not like this."

"What are you saying?" Jung-bae asked, frowning.

"We can't kill them," I said firmly. "That's exactly what these sick bastards want. They're waiting for us to tear each other apart. If we're going to fight anyone, it should be them."

"Them?" Dae-oh asked, confused.

"The people running this game," I said, gesturing toward the ceiling. "The ones watching us, treating us like animals."

Gi-hun seemed to understand immediately, his eyes narrowing as he looked upward. "They're up there," he said, pointing toward the higher levels. "That's where they're controlling everything. The man in the black mask—he's their leader. If we take him down, we take the game down."

A mix of murmurs and hushed whispers spread through the group, but skepticism quickly took root.

"How are we supposed to fight them?" In-ho asked dryly. "They have guns."

"Then we'll take their guns," Gi-hun said simply.

"And how are we going to do that?" Jung-bae asked, his tone incredulous.

"We'll catch them off guard, just like we planned for the blue team," Gi-hun said.

"This is crazy," In-ho said. "Even if you manage to take a gun or two, you'll be outnumbered. It's suicide."

I leaned forward, meeting his gaze directly. "And what's your alternative? Let them attack us tonight and hope you survive until morning?" I asked, my voice sharp. "Is that the plan, In-ho? To just kill each other and let them keep watching us like this?"

He didn't respond, just stared at me with an unreadable expression.

"Do we even stand a chance?" Player 120 asked timidly, breaking the silence.

Gi-hun nodded with conviction. "If we catch them by surprise, yes. They're the last people who would expect us to attack. This is our only chance to end these games for good."

"And how do you plan to do it?" In-ho asked, still skeptical.

"Once tonight begins, we'll have our moment," Gi-hun said confidently.

We all stared at him, the weight of his words settling over us. The room was quiet again, but this time, it wasn't just fear that lingered. For the first time, there was something else—hope.