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A cold and calculating man oversees the deadly competition as its secret mastermind: every move, every tactic, every techni...
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Sounds of pleasure. His lips against mine again. The closeness between us.
Then—
A crash.
Shouting.
It came from the men's bathroom, loud and violent, the sound of bodies slamming against walls, grunts of pain mixed with panicked yelling. Young-il froze against me, his grip on my waist tightening. For a second, we just stare at each other, our heavy breathing the only sound between us.
Then another crash. Something breaking. A deep, guttural scream.
"Shit," I mutter, already pulling away, reaching for my clothes. Young-il doesn't stop me. He is already adjusting himself, running a hand through his hair as I yank on my pants and zip myself back up, still flushed, still feeling the ghost of his touch on my skin.
Young-il doesn't hesitate—he grabs my wrist, pulling me through the bathroom towards the dormitory. My legs are still a little shaky from what we'd just done, but the tension in the air had sobered me up quick.
I spot Gi-hun and the others, and make my way to them with Young-il.
Just as I am about to ask if they heard the sounds coming from the men's bathroom too, the loudspeakers crackle to life, the mechanical voice echoing through the dormitory.
"The following players have been eliminated. Players 230, 268, 299, 331 and 401. End of list. The prize money now stands at 36.100.000.000 won."
A suffocating silence falls over the room.
I glance at Young-il, but his face is unreadable, his jaw set tight. I exhale through my nose, glancing up at the screen where the prize money was displayed. Just as expected, the number shot up, more stacks of bills dropping into that giant piggy bank.
Good.
I wasn't about to start mourning people I didn't even know. If anything, their deaths made things easier for the rest of us. Less competition, more money.
Still, my mind flickers back to the sounds we'd heard from the men's bathroom—the scuffling, the breaking, the choked-off shouting. It had to be connected somehow... And to think me and Young-il were engaging in... different types of activities while other people were killing each other not far from us.
"What's going on?" Jung-bae asks.
Before anyone could respond, the bathroom door suddenly slams open, and Player 124 stumbles out, his face twisted in anger.
"They tried to kill us!" he shouts, his voice cracking. "Team X—those bastards—jumped us in there!"
But then, right behind him, a group from Team O emerged, looking just as disheveled. One of them points straight at Player 124, and starts screaming as well.
"Bullshit," he snaps. "You're the ones who started it! They threatened one of the people on our side! They attacked us to win the second vote!"
More shouting broke out, tension rising like a fuse had just been lit.
