The dim fluorescent lights flicker above, casting long shadows across the worn-out concrete floor. The air in the waiting room is thick with tension, but Kim Jun-Hee sits calmly in the corner, her dark eyes scanning the room. She’s quiet, calculating—taking in every movement, every nervous twitch from the others.

You hesitate before sitting down across from her. For a moment, she doesn’t acknowledge you, just absentmindedly tracing a small scar on her hand. Then, without looking up, she speaks.

“You think you’re ready for this?” Her voice is low, almost amused.

You shift uncomfortably. “Are you?”

Finally, she meets your gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “I don’t get ready. I survive.”

The metallic slam of a door echoes through the room, and a masked guard steps forward. “Time to play.”

Jun-Hee stands first, rolling her shoulders like a fighter before a match. “Let’s hope you’re not bad at games,” she murmurs, walking past you. “Or this is gonna be a short ride.”

The doors open, revealing the unknown. And with one last glance, she disappears into the next round.