After the next day, it was the time to olay another one.
This one was called "Survive Till the End."
I stood in the corridor beside Sergio and the others , the air already tense. But unlike before, I didn't feel like dead weight anymore. Celestina and Sergio really taught me well this past days.
The game wouldn't take place in an open stadium or any hall this time. No—this one was crueler. Smarter. It was set inside a sprawling black-walled maze, shadows swallowing the paths like open mouths. It was night. Cold winds pressed in as we arrived at exactly 6:00 PM, our footsteps echoing in the marble-floored Rest Hall.
Celestina came rushing toward us, her heels clicking hard against the ground. Her usually calm face was tight with something close to disappointed.
"Guess your luck's bad," she said, holding up a dark envelope. "You've been chosen as the Killers."
Satoru's voice was sharp. "What's the rule?"
Before she could answer, a large white screen flickered to life behind us. Letters printed themselves in bold, chilling silence:
------------------------------
*SURVIVE TILL THE END*
🔹 *CITIZENS*:
- Objective: Survive two days.
- Rules: No killing. Can only hide and use self-defense.
- Outfit: Normal civilian clothes, plain and unassuming.
🔹 *DETECTIVES*:
- Objective: Kill all the Killers, protect the Citizens.
- Rules: Can eliminate anyone suspicious.
- Outfit: Sleek gray suits, silver belt-holstered guns, and black-rimmed detective glasses that glinted under the moonlight.
🔹 *KILLERS*:
- Objective: Eliminate all Citizens without being caught.
- Rules: Blend, deceive, and survive.
- Outfit: Black thin cloaks clung to their forms like shadows, with twisted scarves wrapped around their heads—only their eyes visible, the rest hidden behind soft black fabric. They carried both knives and guns tucked into utility belts. They were ghosts in cloth and silence.
---------------------------------
There were 20 Citizens.
11 Detectives.
And just 9 of us—Killers.
It didn't feel fair. It felt like a trap from the start.
I looked at our group. Ten, Ryu, and Satoru stood steady, expressions unreadable. Fighters, but average. Not warriors.
Then there was Inaya, silent and sharp like an unsheathed blade. Her eyes burned even beneath the mask as she adjusted the scarf on her face. Beside her, Brother Cheng Hao looked like a man made for war. His cloak barely hid the power in his arms. Sota and Riku both stood tall, composed—trained, built for this. Specially Riku really looked like and skilled assassin to me.
And then there was Hana and me.
She was clever, calm under pressure—but she wasn't a fighter. Neither was I. Not really. I had only just learned how to hold a gun without dropping it. The thin black cloak felt too suffocating.
Satoru stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest, the fabric of his cloak catching the moonlight.
"Well," he said, dryly. "Let's rewrite the odds, shall we? "
*START*
A sharp chime pierced the silence.
Above the maze, a giant floating screen flickered to life. Words pulsed across it in glowing red:
"THE GAME BEGINS NOW — SURVIVE TILL THE END"
In that instant, the lights dimmed and shadows stretched deep across the black-walled labyrinth. The floor beneath them trembled—barely—but enough to remind them this place was built for pressure.
The Killers were already in position, each group scattered according to Satoru's plan. He stood at the center of the command, calm and razor-sharp.
"Inaya, move solo" he had said earlier. "You're faster on your own."
She didn't argue. Her scarf fluttered slightly as she disappeared down the eastern passage like a wraith.
"Shin, you're with Brother Cheng Hao," Satoru added. "Stay alive. Don't play the hero."
I had only nodded , my palms clammy beneath the gloves. Beside me, Brother Cheng Hao was silent, his steps thunderous on the stone floor. Like a human wall. He didn't talk much—but he was always watching.
The two of us together through the west side, Cheng Hao handling the front while I kept low, managing knockouts when needed, disabling lights, pulling levers. Nothing loud. Nothing lethal.
Elsewhere, Satoru, Hana, and Ten slithered like shadows through the tighter corridors. They were the clean-up crew. And it didn't take long for trouble to find them.
A Citizen rounded the corner too quickly, stumbled—and screamed.
The echo of the voice carried through the maze like an alarm.
Hana froze. Her breath caught. She wasn't ready.
But Satoru was.
He rushed forward, catching the Citizen in a swift motion. No weapon—just clean pressure, just speed. He restrained the struggling boy with surprising ease, eyes locked on Hana.
"Get back," he said, steady.
She didn't speak. She only nodded, stepping behind Ten.
Satoru looked toward the hallway. "Plan B is watching?"
"Always," came Sota's voice through the comm.
Meanwhile, in the northern wing, Riku and Ryu were working as a synchronized machine. Ryu hesitated before his first shot. His hand trembled.
Riku didn't blink.
The first Citizen fell to a quiet, clean shot. No noise. No waste. Riku reloaded in one motion. His eyes—sharp, unreadable—didn't flicker. As if he had done this before. As if it were natural.
The others struggled. Even Brother Cheng Hao hesitated before raising his weapon. I almost dropped mine. Even Inaya spared one Citizen she could've struck down. But Riku… Riku was made for this.
Hours passed. The maze shifted silently, locking some doors and opening others. Citizens hid, ran, stumbled. The Killers learned. Their footsteps grew quieter. Their hands steadier.
And above it all, the screen continued its silent countdown:
*36 Hours Remain.*
The game had truly begun.