“Is that guy… really dead?”
“…This is terrible.”
Yi-soo pressed her lips together, her words barely audible in the oppressive atmosphere. It was a question without merit; the outcome was glaringly evident.
The moderator grinned innocently, prodding the lifeless body with the toe of his shoe, as though handling something repulsive.
“Ego, dispose of this refuse, and let our victor find some peace. Now, esteemed VIPs, can you feel the excitement in the air? The second round is upon us. I’ve pondered long and hard about presenting a spectacle that is both simple and exhilarating!”
Even the devil might find this cruelty excessive. Yi-soo wondered how much longer she had to endure this inhumane display. However, given their infiltration, obtaining some information was imperative.
She bit down so hard that a drop of blood formed on her lower lip. Suppressing her repulsion, Yi-soo gripped Hyun-seong’s hand tightly, feeling the warmth that offered a semblance of comfort.
The moderator, tilting his head to address the spectators on the upper floors, signaled to someone.
“Come in, carefully now.”
As anticipated, two individuals in white masks wheeled something into the arena’s center—a wooden bed, just large enough for an adult male, spanning barely two meters.
Once it was perfectly positioned, the moderator’s smile widened.
“Alright, welcome to round two of today’s game: Go Stop. It’s as straightforward as it sounds—either you advance towards a potentially bleak future or you come to a complete standstill.”
Raising his index finger, the moderator directed everyone’s attention to the domed ceiling.
“What’s that…?” Yi-soo squinted, her brows furrowing at the sight of something large and silver glinting.
“It’s… somewhat akin to a guillotine, but we’re in Korea, not France, right? I’ve given it a bit of an upgrade. It’ll be suspended five meters above the ground, and the challenger will have a button to halt it at any moment. However, to add a thrilling twist, we’ll set some conditions.”
The moderator gestured towards a point approximately 40 centimeters from the head of the bed. No further explanation was necessary; she grasped the implication immediately.
Should someone lie down there, they would face decapitation by a miniature guillotine.
“The blade descends at an accelerating pace. You’re free to press the STOP button whenever you wish, but the closer you allow it to come, the exponentially higher the prize money gets! Reach within 30 centimeters, and you’re looking at a whopping 500 million! Just endure with your eyes shut for a mere minute, and you’ll win a staggering sum! Our members can place bets by predicting when the challenger will bring the blade to a halt.”
Yi-soo felt as though she were peering into the unsightly depths of human greed, witnessing the extent to which it could stoop.
“Now, let’s bring in our string quartet. We’ll treat you VIPs to some classical music on the house. Take ten minutes to unwind, place your bets, and in the meantime, we’ll introduce our inaugural challenger. Let’s assess the mettle he’s made of before laying our wagers.”
Yi-soo turned to glance at the guests. Others were similarly engrossed in their own discussions, examining the machine to gauge their bets and placements. Some leisurely sipped cocktails, sharing laughter, while others indulged in the rich smoke of thick cigars.
As her thoughts began to wander, she pressed her palm against her forehead.
People’s lives… treated like mere playthings.
“…Seo Yi-soo, let’s leave. Staying here won’t do us any good.”
“…I agree. It’s stifling sharing the same space with these human scums.”
In the arena, the moderator conducted an interview with an elderly woman.
Yi-soo, a firm believer in South Korea as a nation governed by the rule of law, found herself confronted with the stark reality of inhumane practices lurking beneath the surface.
Her legs felt unsteady, stress escalating rapidly. Rising from the couch, Yi-soo sought solace in Hyun-seong’s embrace, almost catching a whiff of the pungent scent of blood clinging to him.
In silence, they made their way towards the spiral staircase. The crowd remained absorbed in the betting activities and the ongoing interview, oblivious to their departure.
Then, a fingertip tapped Yi-soo’s shoulder twice, jolting her. Startled, she instinctively turned to identify the source.
Hyun-seong, too, pivoted, narrowing his eyes, as a deep red hue inundated their field of vision.