3.

71 2 7
                                    

I felt like I hadn't slept for days. To be more specific—and brutally honest—years. My heart and soul were running on empty, all for one goal: passing these exams and making it to university. An unbelievable dream.

Books covered every inch of my desk, stray papers littered the floor, and neon-colored notes clung to my walls like desperate whispers of knowledge. I was a mess, body and mind. But failure wasn't an option.

The knock at my door startled me, the sound jolting through the quiet chaos of my room. I rushed to answer, the weight of my exhaustion following me to the threshold.

"Girl, you have to stop studying until this hour. Thank God you've got me to look after you!" Yoon-suh stood there, a bag of food in her hands. She gave me a mock scolding look before pushing the bag into mine. "I figured you'd forget to eat, so I brought reinforcements."

I blinked, the unexpected gesture momentarily disarming me. "You really came all this way... for this?"

"Well, not just this." Her voice softened as she stepped inside and sat on the edge of my bed. The air shifted before she even spoke again. "I'm leaving. The day after tomorrow."

The words hit me like a slap. I stared at her, frozen, then slowly sank down beside her. "You what?" My voice cracked with disbelief.

"I'm so sorry, Lyanna. I wanted to tell you earlier, but... everything happened so fast."

"But why?" My chest tightened as frustration bubbled up. "We said we'd spend half the year together before... before anything like this!"

"I know," she said, her tone tinged with guilt. "But there's been a change of plans. Family stuff. I'm heading back to Korea to finish my last year of high school. It's better for me. I miss home so much."

Her hand slid over mine, warm and steady. But I couldn't steady the ache growing in my chest. Yoon-suh wasn't just my best friend; she was my anchor. The first person I trusted. And now she was leaving.

"Don't worry, silly," she said, her voice teasing to lighten the mood. "We've got it all figured out. This time next year, we'll be in Seoul, celebrating your acceptance into university."

"Yeah, if I even pass..." I muttered, looking down at the scuffed floor.

"Shush! I said what I said." She squeezed my hand, her smile radiating pure confidence. "Don't get all melancholic at seventeen. What'll you do when you're thirty-five?"

I laughed—barely.

"Ly, you're the smartest person I know," she said, her tone more serious now. "If they don't pick you, then who will? You're meant for this."

Before I could respond, she pulled me up and wrapped her arms around me in one of her signature hugs. Tight, unshakable, like she could transfer her confidence to me.

"I'll see you in Seoul soon," she whispered, her voice soft but firm.

I clung to her, the words heavy in my throat. "I'll miss you..."

She stepped back and looked at me, her expression full of certainty. "I always miss you when I'm not with you, Ly."

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind the lingering scent of kimchi stew and the bittersweet warmth of her words.

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind the lingering scent of kimchi stew and the bittersweet warmth of her words

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

You'll also like

          



They were now in the main room, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Silence clung to the air, suffocating and relentless. Most of them were trembling, some crying quietly, holding their knees to their chests like lost children. She sat next to Gi-Hun and the man who had saved him, directly across from Sang-Woo. Since the game ended, no one had spoken; they just stared at the ground, as if looking up would force them to face the reality of their survival.

"Sang-Woo..." Gi-Hun finally broke the silence. "Thank you." He turned to the other man. "You two saved my life..."

Sang-Woo had saved her too, but she didn't say a word. She didn't want to talk to him. At least... not now.

"I'm glad you're alive," answered the man beside Gi-Hun, his voice heavy with sincerity.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the pink-suited soldiers entered the room. Those bastards. The man with the ddakji. She hated them all now. Every single one. If she could, she would kill them, make them feel even a fraction of the terror they had inflicted on her and everyone else.

"Congratulations on making it through the first game," the square-masked soldier said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Here are the results. Out of 456 players, 255 players were eliminated. 201 players have completed the first game."

Gasps echoed across the room. Two hundred and fifty-five people dead... for nothing? For a stupid game? These were human beings with lives, families, dreams. And they were slaughtered during a game?

A woman stumbled to the center of the room and screamed, "Sir! Forgive me! I will pay off my debts no matter what. I will pay back at all costs..." She collapsed to her knees, sobbing. "I have... a child. I haven't even named my baby yet, so I couldn't register the baby's birth. Please, let me live!"

Her cries sparked a chain reaction. Others joined her, begging and pleading with the soldiers for their right to live. Lyanna stood still, watching them, her stomach twisting.

"There must be a misunderstanding," the square-masked man continued, unfazed. "We are not here to harm you or collect your debts. Let me remind you: we are presenting you with an opportunity."

"An opportunity? You call this an opportunity?" a man shouted, his voice filled with rage. "You make us play a children's game, then kill us. How is this an opportunity?"

"We may be in debt, but that doesn't mean we deserve to die!"

"This is just a game," the square soldier explained. "They were eliminated for breaking the rules of the game. As long as you follow the rules, you will safely exit this place with the promised prize money."

Chaos erupted as the players shouted and demanded to leave. Fear and anger swirled in the room like a storm.

She thought about the clauses they'd agreed to before this nightmare began.

"Clause One: A player is not allowed to voluntarily quit the games."

But no one cared. They threatened to call the police, their desperation rising. The square guard fired a shot into the air, silencing the room instantly. Everyone dropped to their knees except for her and Sang-Woo.

"Clause Two," the soldier continued, his voice calm but chilling, "A player who refuses to play will be eliminated."

Yeah, but what about Clause Three? She remembered it clearly.

In the suffocating silence, Sang-Woo's voice rang out. "Clause Three of the consent form: The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Is that correct?" He stepped forward.

Classic Sang-Woo, always paying attention to the rules. She remembered the clause too but said nothing, clinging to the sliver of hope it offered.

Indigo, C.SW.Where stories live. Discover now