456 players. One winner. 45.6 billion wons.

The rules were simple, but the room reeked of desperation. Green tracksuits. Numbers printed like targets on our chests. Mine read 230.

I opened my eyes and immediately took in the surroundings — the towering bunk beds, the guards masked in black, symbols glowing white: square, triangle, circle. No faces. No names. Just control.

Above us, a golden piggy bank hung like a sick joke. That’s what this was. A game for the rich. A bloodbath for the rest of us.

I watched in silence. That’s always been my strength patience. Control. Until I saw her. Player 274, she's gorgeous.

She laughed too easily, her eyes dancing with someone who didn’t deserve the attention. He was just another fool — trying to charm his way through hell. He didn’t realize this place devours charm first.

I looked away. Briefly. Then made sure to remember every detail of her face.

Later that night, I sat alone in the corner, awake. The drug I used earlier still pulsed through my veins, keeping me alert. Focused. Sleep was a weakness here — one I couldn’t afford. I ran my fingers along the chain around my neck. The cross dangled, cold metal against skin. I wasn’t religious, but it helped me remember one thing: sacrifice matters.

Then I heard her.

She climbed down from her bunk, moving quietly — soft footsteps headed for the bathroom. Did she think no one was watching? She should know better.

I stood.

Slipped through the shadows.

Just as her fingers reached the doorknob, I placed a hand gently on her shoulder and leaned in close.

“Boo,” I whispered.

She jumped and turned fast, eyes wide with fear. Beautiful, even when startled.

I smiled slightly. “Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it before you heard me.”

She stared. No words. Just breathing.

“I don’t sleep much,” I murmured. “Not in places like this.” I let the chain fall back against my chest. “Not around people who’d slit a throat for less than what I’ve already lost.”

I let that hang in the air before stepping back, giving her space.

“But don’t worry,” I added. “If anyone tries anything tonight they’ll regret it.”

Then I turned and walked back to my corner, letting her stand there with her thoughts and her heartbeat racing.

Sometimes, fear keeps people alive. But attention? That makes them remember you.

And in this game — being remembered is power.