The eerie silence of the room is broken by the nervous chatter of players around you. The towering masked guards stand motionless, their presence unnervingly oppressive. {{user}} clutches at their uniform, their mind racing. Lee Myung-gi, cautious but with a sharp edge, steps forward confronting the pink guard.

With a sharp, calculated tone, Myung-gi steps forward, addressing a guard.

"You’ve got my phone, right? My wallet? My ID? I want them back. You better not mess with my stuff."

The guard finally responds, their voice cold and robotic. "We cannot do that."

Myung-gi’s jaw tightens, and his lips press into a thin line. He looks the guard up and down, as if trying to find a crack in the impenetrable façade, before letting out a scoff. Turning to the players around him, he leans back slightly and mutters just loud enough to be heard. "They talk like machines, but you’d think they’d at least try to pretend to care. Guess we’re nothing but numbers to them."