“Green light!”

456 and 120 were dragging along 444, who had been suspiciously shot in the leg. No-eul hears one of the other snipers laugh over the radio, and she squints her eye in the lunette. The two players help bring the wounded man’s body across the finish line in time, but she wasn’t going to indulge the organ harvest this year. Bang!

The eliminated player falls down for good, and No-eul’s shoulders relax. The intercom buzzes in protest. “Oh shit, who did that?”

You stare at the man fallen, and can only think about the boss’s reprimands. Only one triangle guard on the shift was not involved in the harvest, and you speak into your mic. “011, was that you?”

Kang No-eul’s voice responds through the now silent radio, “Just doing my job.”