Kikidori stared at the stack of overdue bills on his cluttered kitchen table. The dim, flickering light from the bulb overhead cast shadows on the papers, highlighting the bold red stamps: **PAST DUE**, **FINAL NOTICE**, **EVICTION WARNING**. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. There was no food in the fridge, no money to buy any. At 25 years old, his life had spiraled into a pit of debt and desperation.
As he slumped back into his creaking chair, there was a knock on the door. Kikidori froze. He wasn't expecting anyone, and unannounced visitors usually meant bad news: debt collectors, angry landlords, or worse. Hesitantly, he got up and opened the door.
No one was there.
Instead, a small black box sat on the floor. It was sleek and shiny, like something out of a high-end electronics store. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. There was no label, no address. Just a strange symbol etched into the top: a circle, a triangle, and a square.
Curious, Kikidori slid the lid off. Inside was a single white card with bold black writing.
**"Do you want to play a game?"**
On the back of the card was a phone number. Beneath it, the words: **"Call if you wish to participate and win 45.6 billion won."**
Kikidori blinked. Forty-five billion? That was more money than he could ever imagine. He laughed nervously, convinced it was some kind of scam. But what if it wasn't? He had nothing left to lose. His phone was still on—barely—so he dialed the number.
A robotic voice answered. "Thank you for calling. If you wish to participate, press 1."
His thumb hovered over the button. Was this really a good idea? He glanced back at the pile of bills on his table and pressed 1.
The voice continued, "You will be picked up tomorrow. Be at the alley behind Sunbae Market at 10 PM. Do not be late."
Before Kikidori could say anything, the call ended. He stared at his phone, wondering what he had just gotten himself into.
---
The next evening, Kikidori waited in the dark alley, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He had told no one where he was going, and now he was starting to regret it. What if this was a trap?
A van pulled up, its headlights cutting through the gloom. The door slid open, and a masked man in a pink uniform gestured for him to get in. Kikidori hesitated but ultimately climbed inside.
The van was filled with other people, all silent and tense. Kikidori noticed a man with messy hair and kind eyes sitting near the back. He looked familiar but Kikidori couldn't place him.
Before he could think too much about it, a sweet-smelling gas filled the van. Kikidori's vision blurred, and he slumped against the seat, unconscious.
---
He woke up in a large, brightly lit dormitory. Rows of metal bunk beds stretched as far as the eye could see, and people in identical green tracksuits milled around, looking just as confused as he was.
Kikidori glanced down at his own outfit and saw the number **347** stitched onto his chest. A chill ran down his spine. This was no ordinary game.
A loudspeaker crackled to life. "Welcome, participants. There are 456 of you. You will compete in a series of games. The winner will receive 45.6 billion won. Please follow the staff to the first game."
The pink-suited guards, their faces hidden behind black masks, herded everyone through a long, winding hallway. Kikidori stumbled along, his mind racing. What kind of games were these?
As they walked, Kikidori accidentally bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry!" he said quickly.
The man he bumped into turned around. It was the messy-haired guy from the van. His uniform read **456**. The man smiled faintly. "It's fine. Just be careful."
Kikidori nodded, feeling oddly reassured by the man's calm demeanor.
---
The players entered a massive open field, the walls painted to look like a bright, sunny playground. In the center stood a giant robotic doll with pigtails, facing away from them.
A cheerful voice echoed through the air. "Welcome to the first game: Red Light, Green Light. When the doll says 'green light,' you may move. When it says 'red light,' you must stop. If you are caught moving during 'red light,' you will be eliminated."
Kikidori frowned. That sounded easy enough. But why did the word "eliminated" make his skin crawl?
The man with the number 456 stepped forward. "Everyone, listen to me," he said urgently. "I've played these games before. Stick with me, and we might survive this."
Kikidori's heart skipped a beat. Survive? What was this guy talking about?
The doll's head turned around, its eyes glowing red. "Green light," it said in a sing-song voice.
The crowd began to move hesitantly, Kikidori among them.
"Red light," the doll said, freezing everyone in place.
For a moment, all was silent. Then someone near the front shifted slightly.
A loud gunshot rang out.
The player crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath them. Gasps and screams filled the air as everyone realized the truth: this was no ordinary game.
Kikidori stood frozen, his heart pounding. The doll's head swiveled. "Green light," it said again.
He forced himself to move, his legs trembling. The body of the fallen player lay just a few feet away.
The end of Chapter 1.