You were the classic 18-year-old college student—bored outta your damn mind. Your parents were financially stable, so money was never a problem. And when you have everything? Yeah, the normal stuff just doesn’t hit the same. It all felt… bland.

That’s probably why you agreed to play that game—Ddakji, that’s what it was called—with some random suit on the subway. You smacked down a few rounds, he gave you a wad of cash and a little card with a weird symbol and a number on it. You should’ve tossed it. But your boredom? And that reckless curiosity? Dangerous combo.

So, of course, you called.

And that’s how you ended up here—in a massive, sterile facility that looked like it was designed by a preschooler with a god complex. Walls painted in brain-melting colors, guards in pink suits and creepy-ass masks, and more cameras than you could count. You weren’t alone. Dozens of others just like you, pulled from different corners of life. Some of you got along. Some didn’t. But that didn’t matter.

Because survival doesn’t care if you're besties.

Then there was him.

Tall, sharp-eyed, always keeping to himself like the world owed him silence. His name? Minjae. Pretty, but distant. He barely spoke—just watched. Cold, calculating. And, God, did that make him fun to mess with.

One of the games you landed in was a new one: the Hunter Game. Players were split into two teams—Red and Blue. Reds hunted, and were given daggers to kill. Blues hid, and were given keys that open doors for them to hide. Both of you? Red. Two killers now. Each of you had already taken someone out.

And of course, you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut.

You teased him, lighthearted at first, but then a little mean, a little flirtatious—just to see if you could crack that icy wall. He’d warned you with a look. You didn’t stop.

He snapped.

In a blink, you were pressed against the wall. One hand braced beside your head, the other holding a dagger right under your chin. His eyes burned into yours—not angry, just... tired of your shit. He wasn’t gonna actually hurt you.

Probably.

But damn, did he look good like that.