"Where are you going?"
Jiwon tried to walk past Number 3’s room, but he couldn’t.
Number 3 was sitting on the floor, using his own leg as a doorstop, waiting for him.
"You weren’t... waiting for me, were you?"
He asked in surprise.
"And if I was?"
Number 3 sprang up to his feet as he said it.
A shadow instantly fell across Jiwon’s face.
Big. He really was big.
Noticing it all over again, Jiwon said,
"I’m busy right now. I have to go."
Honestly, he would have loved nothing more than to spend time sucking Number 3’s cock without a thought in his head—but he really was busy. Manager Kim had given him a task before he left the counseling room, and he didn’t have the leisure to slack off.
And the mission was strange.
Too unsettling to simply call a game.
Of course, the biggest reason was what he had heard from Kim Hansoo. His head was a mess. He felt like he was going insane. He couldn’t make sense of anything.
He hadn’t walked in here prepared for some kind of spy game, hadn’t expected complicated twists like this. He had no idea what he should even be doing.
All he knew, all he had prepared for in this project—was sex. That was it. Sure, he had trained in jiu-jitsu, partly to handle whatever threats might come during sex and partly to kill the one who had murdered that boy, but in the end, ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) he had focused on sex.
He had put in so much effort not to look clumsy at man-to-man sex.
Because that wasn’t how this project was supposed to go.
It was only supposed to last three, maybe four days.
No one had expected two weeks of group confinement followed by a week-long Party. Too late to back out now, and truthfully, he didn’t even want to.
To Jiwon, this looked like his last chance. To Detective Kim Gyeongseok, it looked like a golden opportunity.
A perfect chance that satisfied both their needs.
Just turn your brain off. Pretend your head is stuffed with cock instead. When else will you get to experience something like this—something most people couldn’t, even if they died and came back to life? As long as you take care of your body, you’ll get the results you want.
That “body management” included Jiwon’s death.
He had thrown himself into this project prepared to serve as evidence even after dying.
But the Party hadn’t even started, and already unexpected things were happening all over. Information was flooding in—almost all of it unfavorable to Jiwon. And none of it was certain.
He couldn’t just ignore what he heard, though. He had to sort it out, make plans for what to do next. But instead, Jiwon wasted his time either fucking or drowning in self-pity.
And whenever he tried to pull himself together, more schedules and missions awaited. The timetable was packed tight, mandatory as long as he stayed here.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t that he was so busy, but somehow he never had a free moment.
No time to think, no time to sort anything out properly.
He wanted to blame the drugs for his scrambled head—but the truth was, he was just a sex-crazed bastard.
"Not even staying for a snack?"
Number 3’s eyes widened as he asked.
If not for this distraction, would Jiwon have gone over the matter with Choi Minjae and Son Geonwoo yesterday?
Would he have clarified which side Gwak Chan was on, and what he had meant by what he said?
Jiwon shook his head.
Number 3 wasn’t a distraction. He was a gift from the hosts, another schedule they had assigned to him.
He, too, was a product from a vending machine, a cog in the windup works, just one compartment in the amusement park’s Ferris wheel.
"I’ve got somewhere I need to be too. Just in case you come looking and I’m not there, didn’t want you feeling disappointed."
Number 3 said this as he stepped outside.
"You tell me to sleep, then can’t even wait before coming back for more."
He grumbled.
"What kind of schedule is it?"
Jiwon asked casually, wondering if it might be the same mission.
Number 3 only laughed. "That’s what I should be asking you."
"So what the hell did you do in there to come out looking so grim?"
Sharp as ever.
"Do I look like it?"
Jiwon lifted a hand, touching his face.
Did he show too much?
He felt a little embarrassed.
"Yeah. The blush is nice, but your expression’s not."
Number 3 leaned his face close to Jiwon’s.
When Jiwon tried to step back, Number 3 grabbed his arm.
"There you go again."
He frowned.
Even frowning, he was handsome. Jiwon couldn’t help being captivated by his face in that moment.
Crazy bastard.
"Guess counseling didn’t sit well with you?"
Still holding him, Number 3 walked with him down the corridor.
Not dragging—escorting.
Because of the counseling with Kim Hansoo, Jiwon’s mood had soured, but now it was easing. Not enough to trust Number 3 with everything, though.
To him, Number 3 was nothing more or less than a sexually compatible partner.
But since he hadn’t been given any warning or instruction to keep individual schedules or the current game secret, it seemed safe to talk.
"I got a mission."
Jiwon finally said.
"Already started the game there?"
"Looks like it."
"What kind of mission?"
"A quiz show."
He told him about the mission Manager Kim had assigned.
"A quiz show?"
That’s right. A quiz show.
Jiwon had been given a single hint connected to the question he’d need to solve.
Manager Kim had shown him a picture—though it was clearly drawn from a photograph. The face was so realistic it must have been. The person’s gender was ambiguous, maybe intentionally so.
"What kind of picture?"
"A fisherman."
"A fisherman? What kind of quiz is that?"
Jiwon had wondered the same thing when he received it.
What is this?
He had asked, but all Manager Kim said was that it was a hint for the quiz show. Nothing more.
"Yeah, I’m curious too."
"That’s it?"
"No."
Not just that.
The fisherman in the picture was holding something in his hand. And Manager Kim had told him that information about that object would be revealed during the quiz show itself.
Number 3 tilted his head, then chuckled. "They come up with all kinds of shit."
He didn’t seem to take it seriously.
Am I the only one taking this seriously?
Did other people just see it as part of the game?
Fuck. Who knew.
"And you?"
This time Jiwon asked.
"Me? I’m going digging."
"Digging? Actual digging?"
When he asked again, Number 3 mimed shoveling.
"Yeah. Actual digging."
"Here? What for?"
"Beats me."
He couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on anymore.
Team 1 had spent the whole morning swimming, and now they were digging. He had gotten an enema, done Developer Class and had his tattoo retouched, and now he was heading to solve a quiz.
What the hell was their aim?
What was the intention?
Compared to this, the nonsense training in the first week about “honey and milk flowing” had actually been better. At least back then things were clear.
Until yesterday, it had felt like they were being used to entertain the guests and hosts for the Party. But after visiting the counseling room, that certainty had slipped away.
A sinister, unpleasant air had started creeping in.
There was something else. Some scheme, surely connected to the hide-and-seek.
A trap?
If so, a trap for what?
"Where to?"
At the elevator, Number 3 stopped him.
"What are you thinking so hard about?"
Snapping back to himself, Jiwon gave a sheepish smile. "Basement 3."
"Walking?"
Number 3 teased, then pressed the button.
"And you?"
"First floor."
"Right."
Jiwon dipped his head lightly in farewell and stepped into the elevator.
"See you later."
From outside, Number 3 winked as he said it.
The doors were about to close when he thrust out his big hand and forced them open again.
Raising his brows, he whispered,
"Win. Whatever it is."
So you can get me as your prize.
After saying that, he pulled his hand back.
As soon as the elevator doors closed, Jiwon laughed.
Honestly, his heart skipped.
"Crazy bastard."
He shook his head.
Yeah. Like Number 3 said—first win.
The game came first.
This wasn’t a world where common sense applied. For someone like him, painfully ordinary, maybe not a model student but someone who had lived within social norms and rules, full of a sense of justice—it wouldn’t be easy to fathom their rotten minds.
He hadn’t even truly understood his own brother, whom he had grown up with. Let alone strangers.
Better to waste no energy on pointless things. Better to become a crazy bastard like them. Only then might he actually see what was going on.
Jiwon wiped all the information he’d gathered from his mind.
His only goal: complete the mission they had given him.
The image from Manager Kim’s tablet lingered in his head as an afterimage—
the fisherman.
And then he arrived at Basement 3.
This time, he wasn’t alone. Some of his teammates, whose whereabouts he hadn’t known, were gathered. Only Han Seoho and the newcomer who had gone to counseling before him weren’t there.
"You’re here?"
Park Geonwoo greeted him, a little awkward.
Standing apart, Kim Yunho only gave him a faint smile, saying nothing.
It was obvious: after Number 11 Kang Jooyoung’s expulsion, something had broken between Geonwoo and Yunho.
Ah. He hated this.
That everything had come to this over a single man felt pathetic.
They had been so well-matched, such good friends—ones who helped him hold onto his sanity in this project.
The three musketeers.
"And what, you two think you’re so great you can fight each other?"
Jiwon grabbed Geonwoo’s arm, pulling him over toward Yunho.
"I was the one who got hit—so why are you two fighting?"
He was being nosy, unusually so.
"Hyung, you didn’t exactly do the right thing either."
"Oh? Talking down to me now?"
Geonwoo, embarrassed, tried to deflect by poking at Jiwon’s tone.
"Kim Yunho, you horny bastard."
"Oh? Jiwon knows that word too?"
This time Yunho echoed Geonwoo’s jab, feigning surprise.
"Save the sulking for after the game. For now, make up."
Jiwon put the two of them face to face.
It felt just like school days. Getting into fights over childish things, then making up with all the gravity in the world. Maybe it was the group confinement, but Jiwon laughed inwardly—men were surprisingly petty, quick to sulk.
Geonwoo and Yunho reluctantly clasped hands. "Sorry." "Sorry, hyung." They apologized to each other.
Jiwon stretched his arms and pulled them both into a hug.
"Let’s not fight. Not among us."
He patted them as he said it.
Selfishly, it wasn’t because he truly loved them so much he couldn’t bear to see them apart.
Of course, they had been good to him, and yes, he did feel genuine affection for them. But the main reason was simple: he needed allies.
If he wanted to survive to the main Party, he needed people who would share information and stand on his side.
Park Geonwoo and Kim Yunho. Maybe Gwak Chan and Nam Kyuwon. Even Choi Minjae, unreliable as he was, was in the same boat. That added up to a decent number.
Ah. And Number 3.
Just as Lee Jihoon—expelled now—had turned out to be an unexpected ally, Jiwon needed allies.
Anyone would do. For now.