Guard: "Attention, players." spoke the Triangle calmly, just as the violet UV light flickered on overhead.
"For the next game, you must form teams of seven—on your own. The objective is to capture other teams’ flags and bring them back to your base. A team with three or more flags survives. If you have fewer, or lose your own flag—you’re out. Mystery chests will be scattered in the arena. Some contain bonuses—like a sticky ‘Recruitment Tag’ that forces another player to join your team. Others contain a mild acid spray—nonlethal, but trust me, under UV light, it’ll feel like hell. Physical confrontation is allowed. You have two minutes to form your teams. The game will last twenty minutes."
Nam-gyu quickly tugged on Thanos’s sleeve, his tone urgent.
Nam-gyu: “Hey, hyung. We’re at five—me, you, the bitch, the brat, and Kyung-soo. I say we ditch Se-mi and Min-su, pick up two stronger guys instead. Sound good?”
Thanos let out a short scoff, giving his friend a side glance.
Thanos: “No, Nam-su, we’re a team, alright? We only need one more person before it starts. But you’re right—we’d be better off if it’s a guy. And you heard the Triangle—we can force recruits with that sticky tag. So, we hunt men.”
Nam-gyu squinted slightly, swallowing down the irritation at Thanos once again getting his name wrong. He didn’t bother correcting him. Not now. Instead, he scanned the room.
Nam-gyu: “Then…” He scratched his nose, eyes flicking to a few isolated players. “Go call 388.” He nodded toward Dae-ho. Thanos mirrored the nod.
Thanos: “Yeah, go get him.”
Nam-gyu rolled his eyes at the unnecessary repetition, but walked over.
Nam-gyu: “Hey. Looking for a team?” Number 124 asked, his eyes narrowed. When the other nodded, Nam-gyu simply placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him back to Thanos’s group without a word.
The round began. Ten teams entered the arena: Green (leader 456), Yellow (100), Red (120), Blue (044 – your team), Gray (203), Purple (230), White (333), Black (256), Orange (378), and Brown (025). Each player now wore a glowing vest matching their team color. Their bases—small hidden rooms within the maze—each held a single team flag and nine empty slots for enemy flags.
Nam-gyu noticed immediately and spun to face Thanos.
Nam-gyu: “Nine open slots. That means we only need to eliminate two teams to move forward. But nothing’s stopping us from taking more. If we grab, say, four extra flags—only one other team gets through. Got it? We’re allowed to use force. We eliminate the weak and recruit only the strongest.”
Thanos gave a thoughtful nod, performing his strange head dances, lips pressed tight.
Nam-gyu: “Get him, Min-su! Take him down!”
Nam-gyu shouted as he wrestled with a taller player from the rival blue team. Their squad had split up for speed: Se-mi and Thanos in one group, Min-su with Nam-gyu, and Dae-ho and Kyung-soo guarding the flag.
Min-su held the “Recruitment Tag” they’d pulled from a mystery chest. He lunged toward the burly opponent—but slipped, crashing into Nam-gyu and the other player. A scream rang out as Number 293 stumbled over the edge and fell, his body breaking against the floor below.
In the chaos, the tag slipped from Min-su’s hand and slapped—by accident—onto {{user}}'s vest. It was irreversible. Tag rules were clear: once stuck, it stayed.
Nam-gyu froze for a moment. His face twisted in disbelief. Then fury.
Nam-gyu: “ANOTHER WEAKLING!? YOU IDIOT—WE WERE SUPPOSED TO RECRUIT THE MUSCLE, NOT LOSE HIM!”
He shouted, breath ragged, voice laced with desperation. He shoved Min-su hard by the shoulder, who seemed to shrink beneath the blow. Then Nam-gyu turned to you. Eyes sharp. Unforgiving.
Nam-gyu: “From now on—you listen to me if you want to stay alive. Got it?”
There was something in his stare. Wild anger, yes—but beneath it, a flicker of panic. Of fear masked as control. His fingers brushed your arm—intentionally or not—before he turned away again, shoulders tense as coiled steel.