Ji Ah's heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she made her way back to her chambers. The VIPs had finally dispersed, their bloodlust sated for the evening, their grotesque laughter and mocking bets still echoing in her ears. She felt hollow, her movements mechanical, as if her body were on autopilot.

Her mind, however, was anything but silent.

Everything here is a test.

The Frontman's words from earlier lingered, circling her thoughts like a vulture over prey. She had been tested today, that much was certain—but had she passed? What even constituted success in a place like this? Submission? Obedience? Survival?

Her hands clenched at her sides as her jaw tightened. She hated the uncertainty, the helplessness of it all. If the Frontman was watching her—and she knew he was—how would he decide her fate? A word, a glance, a subtle gesture? The thought sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, but not for the reasons she hoped.

Her pace quickened as she approached the hallway leading to her quarters. The suffocating opulence of the lounge gave way to sterile corridors, the green walls dimly lit and humming faintly with electricity. The silence was deafening, amplifying the weight of her thoughts.

She stopped abruptly at the sound of footsteps echoing behind her. Ji Ah turned, her breath catching for a moment as her gaze landed on a familiar figure. Number 4—the blonde woman she had spotted earlier, another server for the VIPs—was approaching. Her gait was confident, almost too assured, a stark contrast to the shaking mess when they last met.

"Number 13," the blonde woman said, her voice low but steady.

Ji Ah studied her cautiously, unsure of her intentions. The woman's mask, like her own had eye holes, revealing sharp blue eyes that glinted with something between curiosity and determination.

"Yes?" Ji Ah replied, keeping her tone neutral.

Number 4 glanced over her shoulder, ensuring they were alone, before stepping closer. "We need to talk," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But not here."

Ji Ah's pulse quickened. She hadn't spoken to any of the other servers since arriving, and she wasn't sure she trusted this woman. Still, there was something about her demeanor that demanded attention.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ji Ah said carefully, falling back on her training as a detective. "We're not supposed to—"

"Spare me," the blonde interrupted, her tone sharp. "You're not like the others. I can see it. And I think you know this place isn't what it seems."

Ji Ah's breath hitched at the woman's directness. She glanced down the hallway, torn between curiosity and caution.

Number 4 tilted her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "You want answers, don't you? About the Frontman. About the games"

Ji Ah's stomach churned. The Frontman's words echoed in her mind once more. Everything here is a test.

"How do you know anything about me?" Ji Ah demanded, her voice firm despite the unease creeping in.

The blonde's gaze softened slightly. "Because I've been watching, too. And you're not the only one who's been tested."

Ji Ah's resolve wavered, the woman's words hitting uncomfortably close to home. Against her better judgment, she nodded.

"All right," Ji Ah said, her voice steady. "But if this is a trap—"

"It's not," Number 4 assured her, her eyes glinting with something that looked almost like determination. "Meet me in the storage room two corridors down. Midnight, that is when the guards change over, cameras too"

Before Ji Ah could respond, the blonde turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the empty hallway.

Ji Ah stared after her, her mind racing. She didn't know if she could trust this woman, but if there was even a chance of getting closer to the truth, she had to take it.

With a deep breath, Ji Ah continued toward her chambers, her thoughts a storm of doubt and determination.

Whatever lay ahead, she would face it—just as she had faced everything else in this twisted nightmare.

—————————————-

Time ticked by slowly for Ji Ah as she sat on her bed, short black dress replaced with the black silk pyjamas she had been assigned. The smooth silk pants and tank top offering little warmth, but more coverage than she had in the dress, even if the chest dipped slightly lower than she would like. She had removed her makeup but replaced her mask upon her face, somehow feeling like it kept her safe.

Her mind ticking over the risks, the complications if something went wrong. The danger it posed to herself and Jun Ho.

Teeth worrying her bottom lip as she thought.

Then like a confirmation of all her fears, an alarmed blared and her door locked.

Ji Ah sprang into action moving to her door with haste. Trying the handle and pressing her ear against the cold metal trying to figure out what is going on. "All guards are to report to their stations. A player is unaccounted for" blared over the speakers.

Unaccounted for? Has someone escaped? Ji Ah wondered, her ears straining to hear any form of noise.

Then footsteps, Ji Ah sprang back as her door was wrenched open coming face to face with a square faced guard.

"Number 13 accounted for sir" he barked turning to the left. He held the door open for Ji Ah who walked tentatively forward.

Cool air hitting her as she stepped into the hallway, making her bare aims prickle in the cold. An odd part of Ji Ah thanked herself for not forgoing wearing her bra seeing as she was in now face to face with a hallway full of men in nought but her pyjamas.

Her eyes turned toward the end of the corridor where stood the man she dreaded most.

He looked at her for a beat, his emotions unreadable behind the glint of his mask. But his shoulders held tension. Ji Ah cast her eyes downward, her breath stilling at the firm grip he had on the pistol he had in his left hand.

"Number 13 follow me" he ordered in a sharper tone than he had ever used on her. Turning briskly and walking away,

Ji Ah followed without hesitation, her bare feet padding down the hallway. As she passed the doorways of 1-4 she couldn't help but notice number 4's cell was empty. That gnawing feeling in her gut in her gut returning with full force.

She followed the Frontman silently, tension building in her body with every step.

They were flacked by a small army of triangle soliders, each one carrying their weapon in hand.

She was lead through the twists and turns of the ghastly pink halls, her mind becoming thoroughly disorientated in where they are headed.

They then approached an open doorway, Ji Ah could not see much behind the Frontman's broad frame and the soldiers flanking her. The dark hallway replaced with sudden light.

As sand squished under her feet Ji Ah knew exactly where she was. The Daglona Game room.

Ji Ah heard a commotion then one single gunshot rang through the air. Ji Ah peaked through the space between the guards seeing an unmasked pink guard on the floor writhing in pain, the frontman stood in front of him weapon still raised.

Ji Ah could see the escaped player, 111 crawling through the sand in an attempt to get away.

The frontman calmly lowed his weapon, stepping toward the shot guard who was still groaning in pain. Ji Ah watched with bated breath on what was about to unfold.

"Whether you sell of the organs from the dead, or devour them, I don't give a damn" he began his voice menacing "However, you've ruined the most crucial element of this place."

Ji Ah attempting to get closer, her interest piqued as the Frontman stepped forward and crouched in-front of the sacred guard.

"Equality" he simply said, his voice carrying that same menace.

"Everyone is equal in these games. Players compete in a fair game under the same conditions. These people have suffered from inequality and discrimination out in the world, we offer them one last chance to fight on equal footing and win" he lectured, keeping his gaze fixed on the terrified guard.

Ji Ah's mind reeled from this information, 'Equal and fair, is that what he really thought these games are' Ji Ah thought in disbelief. Part of her feeling like he was speaking to her in that moment.

His tone then shifted, becoming angry "but you have broken that principle" he told the guard as he rose to his feet.

The guard realising what was about to unfold, rolled himself up onto his knees in a bid to beg for mercy. But none was given. A quick bullet fired through his skull as he collapsed to the floor.

The frontman's attention then turned to the panicked player who had watched the scene unfold. The frontman turned and walked away, grasping Ji Ah's arm as he passed, pulling her along with him. As behind her several shots rang out, eliminating player 111.

————————————-

Ji Ah's pulse raced as the Frontman dragged her down the halls with an iron grip. His hand wrapped firmly around her upper arm, his movements brisk and unyielding. She struggled to keep pace, her bare feet barely making a sound against the cold, unyielding floor.

"In there," he barked, nodding toward a heavy steel door at the end of the corridor. It hissed open as they approached, revealing his quarters.

The room was dark, a dim light a the end of the hallway illuminating the lush sofa and living space she had become aquatinted with.

He released her arm with a force that sent her stumbling a step forward, the residual heat of his touch lingering like a brand on her skin. She caught herself, glaring at him as she turned to face him, her eyes now unable to hide behind her mask.

"Why am I here?" Ji Ah demanded, her voice sharp, though it wavered at the edges.

The Frontman's mask gleamed under the dim light as he tilted his head slightly, his posture imposing. He didn't respond immediately, letting the silence stretch between them until it became unbearable.

Finally, his voice, low and measured, broke the tension. "I warned you about tests, didn't I?"

Ji Ah's breath hitched. "Tests? What test was that supposed to be? Watching you kill two people like it was nothing?"

The Frontman took a step closer, his gloved hand pointing at her. "You still don't understand, do you? Everything here is controlled, calculated. I don't act without purpose."

"And dragging me here?" she shot back, her voice rising. "What purpose does that serve?"

She felt his gaze flick downward for the briefest moment, taking in her silk-clad figure. She could feel the weight of his gaze as it linger over each part of her. It wasn't the first time she'd felt vulnerable in this place, but something about the scrutiny now made her feel exposed in a way she couldn't explain, her chest rising as her breathing came faster, a sight she is sure he did not miss.

Ji Ah's cheeks flushed despite herself. She crossed her arms over her chest instinctively, her jaw tightening His silence was damning.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, and Ji Ah was acutely aware of the difference in their statures.

"You want answers" he said, his voice dropping lower. "But you won't find them by playing the victim."

She bristled at his tone, a spark of defiance lighting within her. "And you think you're some kind of savior? You talk about equality, fairness—do you even hear yourself? You're the one pulling the strings."

His hand shot out, gripping her chin firmly but not painfully, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Careful," he warned, his voice a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're here because I allow it. Because I see something in you. Don't make me regret it."

For a moment, neither of them moved. Ji Ah's heart hammered against her ribs, but she refused to look away. The air between them crackled with tension, a mix of anger, fear, and something else she couldn't name. The feeling of his leather glove on her skin sent tingles through her, and for the briefest moment she is sure she felt his thumb move as if stroking her.

"You don't scare me," she said, almost in a whisper, her bottom lip touching the tip of his finger as she spoke.

He continued to stare at her, his mask catching the dim light as he tilted his head slightly. "No," he said, his tone deceptively calm. "But you should be scared of what comes next." Hand finally dropping her chin.

The door behind her opened and, Ji Ah's stomach dropped. The sight of two guards dragging the unmasked Number 4 into the room turned her earlier unease into full-blown dread. The blonde woman, once so confident, now looked utterly broken, fear marked her striking features and tears dropped from her blue eyes.

Ji Ah's thoughts raced—had her earlier conversation been the cause? Had Number 4's fate been sealed because of her curiosity? A fresh wave of guilt tightened her chest.

The guards shoved Number 4 to her knees, her once-pristine uniform now rumpled and ripped. She shook violently, her blond hair plastered to her damp forehead. Ji Ah's breath hitched as she watched, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

The Frontman stood tall before her, his presence dominating the room. His gloved hands clasped behind his back, the dark gleam of his mask reflecting the dim light. For a long moment, he said nothing, letting the silence stretch into a suffocating noose around everyone present.

"You were warned," he said finally, his voice low and deliberate, each word slicing through the air like a blade. "The rules here are absolute. They are what keep this... delicate balance intact."

Number 4's head snapped up, tears streaming down her face. "Please, I didn't mean to— It wasn't my fault!" she sobbed, her voice cracking with desperation. "I was only trying to survive!"

The Frontman tilted his head, considering her words with a cruel detachment. "Survival," he repeated, his tone almost mocking. "That's what you call your betrayal?"

Ji Ah's pulse quickened as she watched the scene unfold, her mind racing. Betrayal? What did she do? Was it because of me? The thought gnawed at her, but she dared not move, her feet rooted to the floor.

"You broke protocol," the Frontman continued, taking a measured step closer to the trembling woman. " Your actions disrupted the integrity of the games, by allowing player 111 to have an unfair advantage. Or did you think we did not notice your trick with the food. Equality, fairness—these principles are not optional. They are what separates this place from the chaos of the world outside."

Number 4 shook her head violently, her sobs growing louder. "I didn't mean to! I swear, I didn't—"

"Enough," the Frontman snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through her pleas. The weight of his authority pressed down on the room, silencing her instantly. He crouched down, his imposing frame towering over the woman even at her level

Ji Ah caught the faintest glint of his mask as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Do you know what happens to those who jeopardize what I've built here?"

Number 4 shook her head, trembling like a cornered animal.

The Frontman rose to his full height, his hand slowly moving to the pistol at his side. "They are removed," he said coldly.

Ji Ah's heart pounded. Her feet felt rooted to the floor, but every fiber of her being screamed to intervene. "Wait—stop!" The words died in her throat, the sharp crack of a gunshot cutting through the air. Blood splattered across the pristine floor, and Number 4 crumpled. Ji Ah staggered backward, her hand flying to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. The image of Number 4's lifeless body burned into her mind. Her knees threatened to give out, as the Frontman walked back toward her, his presence looming at her side.

"I warned you about tests," he whispered almost intimately in her ear, feeling the slight warmth of his breath seep through mask.

Her vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as her body betrayed her. The weight of what she'd just witnessed—the violence, the finality, the guilt—crushed her. The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was the cold, unfeeling mask of the man who'd orchestrated it all.