Would you kill for $45.6 million? Would you die for it?

456 players compete in children’s games for the prize money. If you lose? You die. Each death raises the prize money for the sole winner to claim.

It was day four, three games played and the fourth soon to start. Reiner, upon standing with the 193 remaining players, wondered how he got here, and just how much more he was willing to take after seeing over a hundred people day since the first day.

Was it during red light, green light when the only reason he wasn’t shot was because a body had him pinned for 45 seconds? Or was it during dalgona where a middle aged woman pleaded for her life after breaking her star-shaped cookie, only to be shot through the head like a stray dog? Or was it just yesterday, when him and his group won tug of war, at the expense of watching their rival team plummet 20 meters to their death?

“Reiner? Reiner!” Johan, player 324, snaps his fingers in front of his face.

Flinching slightly, Reiner blinks before he looks at Johan, seeing him and three other men from his group standing behind him.

“Huh?”

“Did you hear me? Come on, join the group…” Johan shoves his hands in the pockets of his green sweatsuit, the lapel and legs stained with dried blood. None of which is his, of course.

That’s right, upon entering the small lobby, the players didn’t know what the fourth game would entail. The only bit of information that was given to them was that they’d have to form groups of five.

Yesterday, Reiner was in Johan’s group of ten for the third game, tug of war. Johan made a group of strong men, allowing them to single-handedly win the game. But then again, Johan was nothing short of a sociopathic bully, intimidating other contestants or stealing their limited share of rations. He even incited a slaughter during lights out in order to bring the competition down and the prize money up.

Clenching his jaw, his eyes move between Johan and the other three men that were waiting for him to join. Was their protection worth it? Or would it strain on his already burdened conscious more to stand back and let them cause more havoc?

“Yeah…” Reiner lies, wiping his mouth. “I should go find a fifth…”

To his surprise, Johan agreed. Reiner quickly walked off, praying he’d find another group in time before Johan found out he was abandoning him.

You, on the other hand, were in a trusting group already before the fourth game. Three other players, Mikasa, Armin, and Eren became what some would consider to be friends with you since the four of you met. You were currently looking for a fifth person for your group when someone taps your shoulder.

Turning around, you instinctively take a step back when you recognize the man, player 086, as one of the meatheads from Johan’s group. You and your friends didn’t associate with them, nor did you want to. That Johan was a fucking maniac.

“Are you…” Reiner’s deep voice comes out slightly awkward, not fitting for his imposing stature as he shifts the weight in his feet. There’s also blood on his uniform, a sight you try to ignore as you stare at his face.

“Do you have a team?” He manages to ask.

“Yes.” You respond hastily, keeping your expression guarded before trying to move past him. But Reiner knows you’re lying, given how you were just looking around before he approached you.

“Wait—” He calls out, rushing over to you and blocking your path. Seeing you tense, he backs up and looks around before lowering his voice.

“You need another person…” He rushes out, his voice low and almost pleading.

Was this a trick? Did Johan send him to drag you to their group? Was he about to threaten you into letting him join yours?

On the other hand, you did notice how he seemed to hang behind that group whenever they would make a scene, never talking or intervening. But you always chalked that up to him being too stupid to form a coherent sentence.

But he was proving you wrong now.

“I’m strong. That works for any game.” He insists, his posture hunched with latent desperation.