I WOKE TO the sharp contrast of classical music ringing in my ears. My head felt heavy as I sat up on the narrow bed, blinking a few times to adjust to the glaring white light of the room. Rows of beds, stacked neatly like shelves in a warehouse, stretched out in every direction. People stirred around me, slowly waking up the same way I did.

I looked down and frowned. A green tracksuit clung to me, slightly loose but comfortable, the number "111" stitched boldly on the chest. My mind immediately flashed back to the card the salesman had handed me. I remember calling the number on the card, getting into a black car and passing out.

In the centre of the room stood several figures in pink suits with masks concealing their faces. The masks bore shapes—circles, triangles, and squares—matching the ones on the card. It wasn't just some bizarre coincidence.

As people began to climb down from their beds, a low hum of murmurs filled the air.

Reluctantly, I followed the crowd, shuffling into the growing mass of people assembling in the middle.

One of the masked figures, his face adorned with a black mask with a square, stepped forward. His deep voice cut through the noise.
''Attention, players. Please get ready to sign the contract.''

He paused briefly, scanning the crowd before continuing, ''I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you. Everyone here will participate in six games over six days.''

My heart sank as his words settled in. Six games. It sounded like a challenge.

''Those who win all six childhood games,'' he added, ''will receive a handsome cash prize.''

The word "cash" seemed to awaken something in the crowd. I remained quiet, observing the chaos.

''What's with the shoes?'' a man with bright purple hair exclaimed suddenly.

I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips but quickly masked it. No one was paying attention to me, thankfully.

Another voice, high-pitched and incredulous, chimed in, ''Why those clothes? I don't like how they fit. Can I have what you're wearing instead?'' She pointed dramatically at one of the guards.

The guard in the square mask replied curtly, ''The uniforms must be worn so we can keep track of you during the games.''

The murmurs grew louder. ''Are we kidnapped?'' someone yelled. Another voice immediately cut in, ''How much money?''

The room erupted into chaos. People shouted, some at the guards, others at each other. The masked men, unfazed by the commotion, began arranging us into single file lines.

Suddenly, the large screen at the front of the room flickered to life, displaying videos of the players. A wave of humiliation swept over the room as everyone's personal debts were revealed in brutal detail. Angry voices clashed with desperate pleas.

One clip stood out—a man with purple hair being slapped repeatedly near a bridge. He shouted something incomprehensible, but the image stuck in my mind.

Then it happened. My own face appeared on the screen. I was getting slapped near the train tracks. My name flashed in bold letters beneath the video: LIM MINJI.

A lump formed in my throat. I quickly looked down at my feet, hoping no one would connect the face on the screen with the quiet girl in the green tracksuit.

The line moved forward as the guards herded us towards a photo station. The man in front of me—the same one with purple hair—chatted animatedly with someone, bragging about his rap career. Fans flocked to him, asking for pictures. He seemed to revel in the attention, but I kept my gaze fixed ahead.

We locked eyes briefly. His purple hair stood out even more up close, almost too vibrant for my liking. I quickly looked away, focusing on the camera as the guard instructed, ''Look in the camera and smile.''

I managed a faint smile, one that barely reached my eyes, before the flash went off.

The first game was announced shortly after. ''Red light, green light.''

I felt an uneasy pang of nostalgia as we stood on the large, open field. In front of us loomed a giant doll in a yellow dress, her lifeless eyes fixed on the crowd. It was a game I used to play with friends as a child, though the stakes had never been this high.

The rules were explained through the speakers. ''If the doll catches you moving, you will be eliminated.''

Player 456 spoke up suddenly. ''That doll is a motion sensor. If it catches you moving, you're going to get shot.''

Few people seemed to believe him, but when the game started, it didn't take long for the truth to become painfully clear. Gunshots rang out, and bodies fell to the ground, lifeless.

I froze, my heart racing. The air filled with screams and chaos as players scrambled to understand what was happening.

I stuck close to a small group that had formed behind Player 456. The taller ones stood at the front, shielding the rest of us as we moved cautiously forward.

The man with purple hair was right in front of me. His movements were jittery, and I whispered urgently, ''Stop moving!''

''I can't help it,'' he muttered, his voice shaky.

I noticed him discreetly opening his necklace and swallowing something from inside it. My stomach twisted with worry. ''Are you okay?'' I asked quietly.

He glanced back briefly, his expression tense but grateful. ''Focus on yourself.''

The doll called out, ''Green light,'' and we moved forward again.

◯ △ ▢

THE ROOM WAS eerily quiet despite the number of players crammed inside. I sat in the corner, clutching my metal tray of food, my appetite completely gone. The gruesome images of the first game were still burned into my mind—every shot fired, every body falling, and the overwhelming chaos. My hands trembled slightly, the rice and side dishes on the tray untouched.

I stared blankly at the wall, trying to block out the murmur of voices around me. 

Out of nowhere, the sound of someone's footsteps broke my concentration. I glanced up, and there he was—the same purple-haired man from earlier. His energy was almost overwhelming.

''Bunny!'' he exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement.

I blinked at him, unsure how to respond. ''Excuse me?''

''You look like a bunny,'' he said, grinning from ear to ear. ''Small, quiet, and cute.''

I frowned, inching back slightly. His enthusiasm felt out of place in a setting like this, and it was unsettling. He didn't seem to notice my discomfort at first and kept firing off questions.

''What's your name? Where are you from? Are you okay? Did you see how I handled that game? Pretty cool, huh?''

I didn't answer. I couldn't. The words caught in my throat, weighed down by the memories of what had just happened. My silence must have finally registered because his manic energy seemed to deflate slightly.

''Sorry,'' he said, his tone softening. ''I didn't mean to scare you.''

He sat down beside me, carefully balancing his own tray of food. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed calmer now, more genuine.

''You're not eating,'' he observed, his voice quieter this time. ''Why not?''

I hesitated before answering, my voice barely above a whisper. ''Eating after seeing people die doesn't feel right.''

He nodded, his expression surprisingly understanding. ''Yeah, I get that. It's hard.''

For a moment, we sat in silence. Then he shifted closer, pulling a tissue out of his pocket.

''You've got some blood on your face,'' he said gently. ''Can I...?''

I nodded reluctantly, and he leaned in, carefully brushing the dried blood off my cheek. His touch was surprisingly tender, and I found myself relaxing just a little.

''There,'' he said with a small smile. ''Good as new.''

He leaned back, trying to lighten the mood. ''By the way, I'm Thanos. You've probably heard of me. Famous rapper, legend, all that.''

I stared at him blankly. ''My name's Minji. And no, I haven't.''

His eyes widened in mock disbelief. ''What? You've never heard of me? Not even 'Bang Bang Bang'?!''

He jumped up and started miming a dance move, complete with dramatic finger guns. ''Legendary Thanos!''

I couldn't help it—a small laugh escaped me. He froze mid-dance, his expression lighting up.

''There it is,'' he said, pointing at me. ''A smile suits you much better.''

I shook my head, a hint of a smile still lingering on my lips. He handed me his milk carton.

''Here,'' he said. ''You need to stay hydrated.''

I hesitated but took it. ''Thank you.''

We ate in companionable silence after that, the tension between us easing. When we were done, he turned to me with a slightly mischievous grin.

''So, I kind of abandoned my group to come over here and talk to you,'' he admitted.

I raised an eyebrow. ''Why?''

''Because I wanted to,'' he replied simply. ''And I was hoping you'd join us.''

I thought about it for a moment. The idea of being alone in this place terrified me, and despite his strange personality, Thanos seemed... kind.

''Alright,'' I agreed.

His grin widened. ''Great! Come on, I'll introduce you.''

He stood and offered me his hand. I hesitated briefly before taking it. Together, we walked across the room to where his group sat—three men and one woman. They all looked up as we approached.

''Everyone, this is Minji,'' Thanos announced. ''She's with us now.''

I gave a small nod, my eyes flicking over each of them and their numbers, they all looked wary but didn't protest.

Thanos plopped down next to me. ''Don't worry,'' he whispered. ''You'll fit right in.''

For the first time since the game began, I felt a faint glimmer of hope.

The dimly lit room felt oppressive. Our small group huddled together on the cold, hard floor. I could still hear the gunshots echoing in my mind, the screams of players fading into silence. My stomach churned at the thought, and I kept my gaze fixed on the rough cement beneath me, trying to push away the memories.

Thanos was the first to break the silence, his voice light-hearted but steady as he introduced me to the others. Nam-gyu, a wiry man with a calculating gaze, gave me a curt nod. Min-su, a young man with an easy smile, seemed friendly enough. Se-mi, the lone woman besides me, looked wary but managed a small, polite smile in return. Finally, Gyeong-su, met my eyes briefly before turning his attention back to his hands, which were fiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve.

''Right, bunny,'' Thanos announced, leaning back casually against the wall with his arms folded. ''We'll all sleep here. Close, safe, and warm. We'll take turns keeping watch—don't want any surprises in the night.''

I flinched slightly at the nickname but didn't bother to correct him. He was persistent, though not unpleasantly so.

''Who's going first?'' Se-mi questioned, her tone clipped as her gaze darted between the rest of us.

''I'll take the first watch,'' Thanos volunteered immediately. ''Not tired anyway.'' He shot me a wink that I ignored. ''You all should get some rest. Especially you, bunny.''

I didn't reply, instead shifting slightly to settle into a corner of the room, away from the others. My body ached, my mind still reeling from the day's events, but sleep felt impossible.

As the lights flickered once, then dimmed to near darkness, the others began to settle in, their quiet breaths eventually evening out into the rhythm of sleep. Only Thanos and I remained awake.

''You're not sleeping?'' Thanos asked softly, his voice a murmur in the quiet.

I hesitated before responding. ''I can't. Not after everything that's happened.'' My voice sounded distant, even to myself.

He nodded. ''Yeah. Today was rough...'' He paused, leaning slightly closer. ''Why are you here? I mean...what brought you to all this?''

The question hung in the air for a moment, and I debated whether or not to answer. But something about his tone made me lower my defences slightly.

''My father died,'' I admitted, my voice quiet. ''He left behind debts. Nearly a million won.'' I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. ''There was no other way out.''

Thanos didn't respond right away. Instead, he leaned back, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a hint of bitterness.

''I get it,'' he muttered. ''I had money once—more than I ever thought I'd have. Five hundred million won.''

That caught my attention, and I turned to look at him properly for the first time. ''What happened?''

''Crypto,'' he replied, a humourless laugh escaping his lips. ''I thought I was being smart, investing it all. The next big thing, right? But it was a scam. Every last won, gone. And now I owe...'' He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. ''Let's just say more than I can pay back in this lifetime.''

There was a pause, the weight of his words filling the space between us.

''Why would you tell me that?'' I asked quietly, genuinely curious.

He shrugged, offering a lopsided grin. ''Why not? We're all in this mess together, aren't we? Might as well be honest about it.''

I didn't reply, but I felt a small flicker of...something. Understanding, perhaps.

''Go to sleep, bunny,'' he added, his tone lighter again. ''You need your beauty sleep.''

I rolled my eyes but relented, shifting to lie down. The hard floor was unforgiving, and the cold seeped through my thin clothes, but my exhaustion eventually began to overpower my discomfort.

As I drifted off, I could hear Thanos humming a song quietly to himself, the sound oddly comforting .

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