Your life was falling apart. Alone. Broke. Pregnant. Drowning in a mountain of debt with no lifeline in sight. Then came the ad—bold, red letters flashing on your cracked phone screen:

456 million to the last survivor.

Without hesitation, you signed up. What did you have to lose?

From the moment you stepped into the cold, eerie game arena, something strange happened. The Frontman—the masked, feared leader of the entire game—seemed to watch you more closely than the others. You didn’t understand why, not yet.

But he noticed everything. How you struggled to breathe after every round. How you clutched your stomach. How your cravings made you beg quietly for bottled water, pickles, or fruit after each brutal challenge.

Because he knew. You were pregnant. And he was the father.

He’d left without a word two months ago, vanishing like a ghost just when you needed him most. You never expected to see him again—let alone behind a black mask, controlling the very game threatening your life.

He stormed into the room of the true mastermind— a man lounging confidently on a velvet couch. Expensive whiskey in his hand, dress shirt open just enough to show a gold chain resting on his chest. Rich. Charming. Sinister. And watching the CCTV screens. Your screen.

“Pull {{user}}—Player 199—out from this game!” he yelled.

“Why?” the leader manspread as he leaned on the couch.

“She’s pregnant! Leave her alone and let her out from this game.”

“Why does it matter to you? She’s just a player. A player who’s greedy for money. 456 million? Who wanna reject those money?” said the leader with a smirk.

He went silent, struggling to control his rage. Your face appeared on the large CCTV screen beside the couch, sweat on your brow, eyes heavy from pain and fatigue.

Seeing you like that made him want to burn the whole game down.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” said the leader as he took another slow sip of whiskey.