C H A M P I O N O F D E A T H

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     THE SOUND OF THE SECOND-LAST GAME STILL ECHOED IN SAE-BOM'S EARS—THE SHATTERING GLASS, THE CRIES OT TERROR, THE HARROWING SILENCE THAT FOLLOWED EACH FALL. Now, as she stood with blood trailing down her cheek and crusting on her chin, she could feel her body screaming at her to stop, to rest, to breathe. But she didn't have time for that.

     The maze of pastel-colored stairs twisted like something out of a fever dream, but now, splatters of blood broke up the candy-colored illusion. Every step they took left a new mark behind—a smeared footprint, a crimson drop. The air smelled like metal and antiseptic, like death had tried to wear perfume.

     Sae-bom didn't turn to meet the guard's gaze on her left. She felt it, burning and unrelenting, but she had bigger concerns.

     Her eyes stayed glued to her sister, Sae-byeok, whose arm was tightly wrapped around her side, a clear indication that something wasn't right. Her steps were labored, slower than usual, and her face paled more with every foot forward.

     Soo-min was keeping her steady, his own face bloodied and pale, his shoulders trembling just slightly under the strain of carrying both himself and someone else.

     Her heart twisted at the sight, guilt clawing at her ribs like a trapped animal. They'd come this far, only five left. Her, her sister, Gi-hun, Sang-woo, and Soo-min. And the rest... gone. Cracked skulls on broken glass. Screams swallowed by the void.

     The door at the end of the maze opened with a hiss, and they were ushered into the main room again—only now it was hollow, stripped of any comfort it once held. Most of the beds were gone, as though the room had prepared itself for their inevitable losses. Five beds remained. Just five.

    The door slammed shut behind them with a finality that struck Sae-bom deep in her chest. She turned toward the ever-watching camera, its red light blinking silently.

     For a moment, she stared into it, unflinching, daring whoever was watching to truly see her, to see what was left of them. Blood. Grime. Pain. Fury.

    She finally broke her gaze and walked to her sister and Soo-min, who stood near two of the remaining beds. Sae-byeok was sitting now, her breathing shallow, her shoulders tensed. Sae-bom bent to her, hand gently cradling her sister's face.

     Her thumb brushed away a bit of dirt on her cheek as her eyes searched for anything more dangerous than a surface wound, "Are you okay?" She whispered, her voice cracking.

     Sae-byeok nodded too quickly, and her eyelashes fluttered softly feeling her sister's warm hand against her skin, "I'm fine, Unnie." She spoke quietly, voice hoarse, "Just... sore."

     She was lying. Sae-bom could see it in her eyes—the glint of pain barely hidden under the brave facade. But she didn't press, not yet. Instead, she reached up to press a soft and lingering kiss to her sister's temple, grounding herself in that one moment of fragile calm.

    Turning to Soo-min, her hand brushed his cheek, smearing away the drying blood with a quiet tenderness, "Thank you," She murmured, fingers trailing gently through his hair, an unspoken gesture of trust and gratitude.

    Soo-min smiled weakly, and caught her hand in his to give a firm, but gentle squeeze, followed by his thumb brushing over her bruised knuckles, "I've got her. Go."

     The raised voices in the center of the room drew her attention—Gi-hun and Sang-woo again. Always on the edge of exploding. Sae-bom moved toward them. Her legs felt like iron, but her body knew the motion. The argument flared as she approached, their words venomous and raw.

     "You pushed him!" Gi-hun's voice cracked through the silence of the room, getting close to his once bets friends face, "He could've made it!"

     Sang-woo's voice was a snarl, eyes flashing with hatred as he stared Gi-hun down, "And if he didn't? What then?"

    She stepped between them once she arrived, and the sudden force of her presence silenced the room. Her hand rose and slapped Sang-woo across the face—not a brutal hit, but one that demanded he wake up.

    His head snapped to the side. He froze for a moment, jaw clenched, then slowly turned his head to look at her. The man who once might have been someone decent was gone, replaced by something hardened and ruthless.

    "Why?" Sae-bom asked, her voice trembling but her eyes sharp as steel, as she brought her hand back down by her side, "Why did you do that?"

     Sang-woo didn't flinch, and took a step close to her shorter figure, "What if he hesitated like the others? What if we died because we waited for him? Would you have risked your sister's life on that?"

     Her jaw trembled as she shook her head, which gave Gi-hun time to step forward, hands on her shoulders to keep her steady, "He was on the second last tile. He knew which ones were real. He just needed a second to jump!"

    "You don't know that!" Sang-woo shouted suddenly, causing her face to shift into a scowl, and he scoffed at their words, "Maybe I was wrong, but we're alive. All of us! Because I made a choice!"

     "You made yourself a murder," Sae-bom spat, her hands gripping the collar of his tracksuit now, and twisted the material in her knuckles, "The only reason we even made it that far is because of him! Because he could tell the difference in the glass! Not because of you!"

     His lip curled, his hand raising to clench around hers tightly that made Gi-hun send him a warning glare to not hurt her, "You're being naive, Sae-bom."

     "Am I? I'm being human," She sneered, head tilted sideways tugging his shirt more until he was level with her fierce expression, "But maybe you forgot what that means."

     He stared at her, breathing hard, "You think you're any better?" His voice dropped to something colder, "You think your hands are clean? Please. If anything, they're worse. You've done more than any of us."

     The words struck like a knife in her lungs, making her grip faltered.

    Gi-hun moved again, but she stopped him with a hand. Her eyes met Sang-woo's, no longer blazing but distant and wounded, and her voice dropped to a whisper.

   "I did what I had to," She said lowly, "For my sister. For my brother. Every drop of blood on my hands was for them. I didn't do it for myself. You did."

     Silence bloomed between them like a wound left open. Their standoff was thick with grief, guilt, and the unbearable truth of what they had become.

     Before either of them could speak again, the shriek of the alarm shattered the room. They all flinched. The door at the top of the stairs slid open with a grinding whine, and the pink-clad guards emerged in formation, boots hitting the steps with precision. They descended like shadows, faces hidden, intentions unreadable.

    Sae-bom stepped back slowly, her body now trembling as her hand fell to her side. Her other arm instinctively reached for her sister across the room, even though she wasn't near enough to touch her.

     Sae-byeok had sat up, her hand still pressed tightly to her side. Soo-min moved in front of her slightly, protective, even in his own battered state. His tracksuit was stained dark with blood, fresh and dried, and one of his sleeves was shredded, revealing a deep slice along his forearm, but his eyes were steady, focused.

     She looked at him, then at her sister, then back at the guards as the one in front of the group began to talk, which broke the uncomfortable silence in the large room.

     "Players, we sincerely congratulate and commend you all," He spoke in his distorted voice behind the black mask, the shape in white being a square, "for successfully making it through the first five games. The five of you are now the finalists, and as such, we have prepared a special gift for each of you."

     From behind the square guard, three circle guards were holding small black box's with a pink ribbon wrapped around them. She spotted it first from beside Gi-hun, and share a confused look with him, wondering what the creator had planned for them.

    "Before we reveal the gift, please take a moment to change into the outfits we have brought."

    The room had grown unnervingly quiet in the wake of the guards' announcement. The tension was thick, almost unbearable. The only sounds that remained were the soft clicks of the guard's boots and the creak of five identical black boxes being set onto the foot of each remaining bed.

    Sae-bom turned, eyes narrowing at the neat little packages—a matte black surface, a perfectly tied pink ribbon in the same hue as the guards' uniforms, and, on the top corner, the now-familiar shapes. A circle, a triangle, and a square.

   It almost looked like a gift. A gift from the devil.

   No one moved at first. Then, reluctantly, Sae-bom stepped toward hers, her limbs heavy, her muscles aching. She stood between her sister and Soo-min, both of whom glanced at her warily before reaching for their own boxes.

     Her fingers gripped the ribbon and gave it a quick tug, the satin sliding free with a whisper. The box opened with a faint click, and inside, nestled delicately in black silk, was a deep burgundy gown.

  Her brows furrowed. She expected clothes—yes. But this?

     The material shimmered subtly under the harsh white lights, catching on the dried blood still caked on her fingers. She stared at the way the fabric clung to itself, light and elegant, the opposite of what she'd worn for days in the arena. On the chest, sewn into the silky surface with a tag, was her player number 450.

     It was beautiful, and it made her stomach turn.

     She looked up instinctively. Soo-min, on her right, had pulled out a sleek white suit from his box. It was crisp, expensive-looking, and entirely expected. Sae-byeok's was the same—though the jacket was slimmer, more fitted to her frame.

    Both were stiff with uncertainty, their eyes flicking between their garments and the guards who remained at the far side of the room, silent and imposing.

     Sae-bom scoffed under her breath and looked back down at her box, letting her fingers trail over the soft folds of fabric. Her gut told her this wasn't just some cruel fashion statement. This was control, one last move in a twisted chess game she never agreed to play.

     And then she noticed something else. Tucked beneath the gown was a small, folded square of paper—bright white against the inky black.

     She plucked it free with cautious fingers, unfolding it slowly. The paper was smooth, expensive. A subtle floral scent lingered on the fibers, like whoever sent it wanted her to notice every detail.

     The words were typed, neat and clinical, but the message? It was personal.

You'll look beautiful in this. I thought of you the moment I saw it.
—F.

     Her breath caught, and her stomach clenched. The Frontman, of course it was him.

     The same man who orchestrated this nightmare. Who made her bleed and fight and watch people die, all while pretending this was fair. The man who watched her suffer and smiled behind a mask.

     Her hands trembled slightly as she read the note again. There was something possessive in the wording. I thought of you the moment I saw it. She couldn't tell if it was meant to disturb her or... something else.

     She crushed the note in her fist, the paper crunching like bones in her grip.

     Her eyes lifted to the dress again. It was stunning. It would shape her body, cling to every curve, and leave all her scars exposed—from old wounds on her arms to the newer ones that crisscrossed her back and sides from the glass bridge. A cruel contrast to something so elegant.

     And yet, despite every red flag screaming at her, she felt one stupid emotion clawing its way to the surface: Relief.

     Relief that, even just for tonight, she didn't have to wear that disgusting green tracksuit, that she didn't have to smell like blood and sweat. That she could feel like herself again—even if it was a version of her the Frontman handpicked.

     And when they all got dressed into their new outfits, the lights dimmed inside the room they slept in, and classical music began to play through the speakers, much to her distaste. The music was annoying to say the least.

     Soo-min had his arms outstretched for the sister's to take, both on either side of him as they arrived back into the room. Sae-bom's dress flowed down behind her, causing her to curse a bit upon almost tripping over the many time's she did. She was thankful she didn't have to wear heals, and was giving flats instead.

    Up on the screen, it showed the number of remaining players which was five and the cash prize also, which was much higher than she actually expected. Her attention was taken away from that, to the table in the middle of the room, where the guards were setting it up.

     "Wow, for a place like this the set up is sure fancy." She muttered to her sister and Soo-min, gaining amused chuckles from the pair, as her finger curled around the arm she was holding, "I'm not gonna complain though."

     Sang-woo and Gi-hun were already sat down in their spots at the large table, and all eyes landed on Sae-bom when she arrived at her spot also. She flushed in the face at the attention, even from the guards, and mentally cursed the outfit she was wearing even if it was comfortable.

     The young woman sat down in between her sister and Soo-min, and she flicked her wavy locks back over her shoulder, which exposed more of her skin. She folded her arms against the table, and watched the guards pour wine into each glass beside the players, including her.

     She gave a small smile at the guard who poured her as a thanks, before she hummed in delight smelling the declious scent of food under the plate. The guard pulled the lid up, giving her a view of the steak, vegetables... and even a small mochi that was placed in a tiny cooling holder.

    No way.... Sae-bom thought to herself with wide eyes, her breath catching realising what was on her plate to eat. Her heart clenches remembering who she used to eat them with, and swallowed the lump in her throat as she stares at the treat sat alone, much like she was.

     No one went to eat first, either waiting for someone else to start or for the music to stop. This made her grumble to herself, and glance to Sae-byeok, who looked more pale in the face then usual. She frowned worriedly, reaching under the table to grasp her sister's hand tightly, and felt the younger one squeeze back weaker then normal.

     "You need to eat, kid." Her voice was only a whisper, eyes soft and comforting as she squeezed her sister's hand again, "I know you probably don't feel like it, but please, at least try? I'm worried about you."

     Sae-byeok glanced to Soo-min who smiled in agreement, and then turned back to her sister, giving her a weak nod followed by a strained smile.

    "Alright, Unnie. For you I will try." She spoke in a rasp, trying to ignore her throbbing side to not stress her sibling out even more than she was, "I'm okay though, I promise."

     The older Kang sister didn't exactly believe her, but didn't push knowing what Sae-byeok was like. With a final hand squeeze and a small smile, she dropped the hold on her and turned to the guard who stood at the head of the triangular table, seeming like he was about to announce something.

    "Tonight's feast is prepared as a token of gratitude for the sacrifice and effort that you finalists have made, and to encourage you all to perform even more splendidly in the final game." His distorted voice told them, gaining a quiet scoff from Sae-bom who looked in disbelief, "Now please relax and enjoy your feast."

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❪ ✏️ ❫ 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂 : 2843
─►☆ AUTHOR'S NOTE :
sorry gang this chap is smaller than usual since i wrote a long ass chapter and i didn't wanna make it really long to this is split into another update which will come soon but i fear you all don't want the update tbh like it broke my heart to write ong 💔💔💔💔💔

i think there's like two more chapters of this act and then s2 begins which im so excited for ughhh like in-ho is about to come in officially and i couldn't be happier fr deadass jumping with joy

anywaysss you all know the drill, vote,
comment, ect mwah <33🫶