I PICKED UP A CHILD IN A DUMPSTER

Si Hon stood there quietly, one hand still near his chin, eyes moving across the now-open arena as he took everything in— the people, the space, the shift that had happened so fast it barely gave anyone time to react.

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath. "Alright."

His gaze drifted toward the center.

That’s where the announcer was. Now.

Still standing there like she owned the entire place— same bunny suit, same ridiculous presence, but something about it had changed. A few hours ago, it had been completely black. Now, it wasn’t. Half of it had turned white, split cleanly down the middle like it meant something.

Si Hon narrowed his eyes slightly, watching.

For a brief second, her gaze flicked toward him.

Then it moved away like nothing happened.

"Huh."

He held it for a moment, like he was deciding whether that meant anything at all— then let it go just as quickly.

Not worth it.

Not yet.

Then—

A tap landed on his back.

Si Hon glanced over his shoulder, attention shifting instantly— and paused when he saw who it was.

Edur. Seong. Suha.

And Han Islat...

He gave a small nod to himself. "Seems like everyone’s here."

Then—

He froze.

His eyes slid back to Han Islat, blinking once like his brain had just caught up late.

"...ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ... wait."

A second.

"Why are you here?"

Han Islat blinked, then smiled casually like nothing about that question was weird. "Uh... yeah. I forgot this isn’t my team," he said, scratching the back of his head before crouching down beside Suha. "I was just accompanying her. She’s my little friend, after all."

He lifted his hand.

Suha lit up instantly.

"Dad! Suha and Big Han are duo friends now!"

She high fived him without hesitation, way too proud of it.

Si Hon just stared at that for half a second.

"Right."

Han Islat stood up again, dusting his hands lightly. "Don’t worry, mister. I’ll head back to my team now."

He turned to leave—

But Si Hon’s hand came up, stopping him with a light grip on his shoulder.

"Wait. Han."

At the same time, Han Gyeol perked up beside him, head tilting slightly. "Dad? You calling me?"

Han Islat paused, then glanced between the two of them. His eyes lingered on Han Gyeol for a second longer before a small grin formed.

"Woah... no way. You’re Han too?" he said, amused, crouching slightly to get a better look. "I see it now... that explains why you kinda look like Suha, she told me she has a brother with the same name as me."

He reached out and lightly patted Han Gyeol’s blonde hair.

"My name’s Han too."

Han Gyeol beamed instantly, smiling like that was the best thing he’d heard all day.

But Si Hon didn’t react to that at all.

His focus stayed locked.

"Han. I mean— Han Islat," he corrected flatly. "Which team are you on?"

Han Islat didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he just stepped back... and started walking.

"Mister," he called casually over his shoulder, not even turning around, "I thought you already knew. We were standing right next to each other during leader selection, remember?"

A small pause.

Then—

"I’m the Yellow Team leader."

Si Hon’s eyes followed him as he walked away, gaze steady, unreadable.

Then—

Tap.

He looked back.

Seong.

"Leader," she said, arms crossed, already looking mildly irritated. "Don’t you think you should start doing something now?"

Si Hon blinked once, genuinely confused.

"Huh? What am I supposed to do?"

Seong immediately slapped her forehead and let out a long sigh. "Agghh!— seriously? Aren’t we supposed to move to the center too?"

Si Hon paused.

Then looked.

And yeah—

She was right.

Teams were already gathering in the middle. Green. Blue. Red. Yellow. Purple. White. Black. They were all there, forming loose groups, the space slowly organizing itself without needing instructions.

Except—

Pink wasn’t there yet.

His team.

"Oh."

That was all he said.

No rush.

No panic.

He just turned and started walking.

"Alright," he muttered under his breath. "Let’s go."

And just like that, the rest followed, their group moving toward the center along with everyone else, stepping into whatever was waiting next.

After moving into the center, Si Hon and the rest of the leaders stood in place along with their teams, forming a loose circle in the middle of the arena. No one rushed. No one spoke loudly anymore. The earlier noise had settled into something tighter— expectant, like everyone was waiting for the next thing to drop.

It didn’t take long.

"Without further ado... let’s continue."

The announcer’s voice cut through the space, bright at first— then it twisted.

"But I should at least warn you all... you dirty, fucking bugs."

Her expression shifted with it, smile gone, replaced by something sharp and openly disgusted. The kind of look that didn’t even try to hide how much she looked down on them. For a brief second, her gaze slid toward Si Hon— lingering just long enough to mean something.

Then she smiled again.

Si Hon didn’t see it.

He wasn’t looking.

"The first rule," she continued, voice snapping back into that playful tone, "is simple. You cannot say things like— ’this is a game,’ ’we’re in a roleplay,’ ’system,’ ’real world,’ and anything similar."

She tilted her head slightly, tapping the mic with a finger.

"If you do... I’ll give you a warning first. I’m very kind like that." A small pause, her smile stretching just a little. "After that... the punishment won’t be so friendly."

Murmurs spread almost instantly.

People around Si Hon started whispering to each other, voices low but restless, the rule sinking in faster than they expected. Some looked confused. Some annoyed. Some already nervous.

But the Pink Team—

They didn’t react much.

Only five of them, standing close, quiet. Watching.

Si Hon tapped his chin lightly, eyes half lidded as he processed it in his own way.

(First rule... so there’s more.)

A small pause.

(Heh... yeah, I’m kind of smart.)

He isn’t...

The announcer clapped her hands once, sharp enough to pull attention back immediately. "Second rule! In this world, each of you will be given a role."

She took a step to the side and flicked her hand casually— like she was tossing something invisible into the air.

A big projection appeared behind her.

Clean. Bright. Impossible to ignore.

"You must act according to your role," she continued, pacing slowly now. "And if you act too far out of character... penalties will apply."

The projection shifted, text forming clearly:

「Example: A "Kind Healer" refusing to help someone > penalty

A "Cold Strategist" sacrificing someone > allowed」

A few people stiffened at that.

Some frowned.

Others looked like they were starting to understand the danger.

And some has that twisted Kind of excited face.

"Third rule," she went on, her tone smoothing out again. "You only know what your character knows. No meta knowledge. Even if you know something..." Her eyes flicked briefly toward Si Hon again, "your character might not."

Si Hon’s eyes twitched slightly.

(Wait... then what was the point of that book?)

(Did I just waste my time?!)

The announcer perked up again, almost like she heard that thought. "But don’t worry! I’m not completely heartless," she chirped. "Any skills you’ve learned? You can keep those. And—" her eyes narrowed just a little, voice dipping, "if you managed to get any loot... you can bring that too."

That got a reaction.

More whispers.

Sharper this time.

Hope, mixed with suspicion.

She let it sit for a second before continuing.

"Fourth rule! When someone dies— yes, including ’YOU’ they are removed from the scenario." Her tone stayed light, but the words didn’t. "You’ll feel pain. Real pain. Everyone will remember it."

A pause.

Then—

"Oh, and death gives buffs. To the survivors."

That shifted the air instantly.

"Revives exist too," she added casually, like it wasn’t important. "But they come with a cost. Memory loss... personality changes... things like that."

No one spoke now.

No one joked.

The arena felt tighter.

"Hehe... fifth rule," she continued, almost humming it out. "The more you act like your assigned role... the stronger you become. The more you resist..."

Her smile thinned.

"The weaker you get."

A small pause.

Then she leaned slightly forward, eyes glinting.

"But there’s a twist."

She didn’t explain.

Just smiled wider.

"You’ll see."

For a moment, she said nothing else.

Let it hang.

Let it settle.

Then suddenly—

She spread her arms wide, like she was presenting a grand stage.

"Now!" her voice rang out, louder than before, filled with energy that didn’t match the tension below. "Let’s start the bidding!"

And instantly—

The arena exploded.

The crowd above roared to life, voices crashing together into something massive and overwhelming. Cheers, laughter, shouting— some excited, some unhinged, some way too into it. It wasn’t just noise anymore.

It felt like they were watching a show.

Like they was waiting for this since the start.

Si Hon stood there in the middle of it, unmoving, one hand still resting near his chin as his eyes lifted slightly toward the sound.

"Bidding?" he muttered under his breath.

The word didn’t sit right.

His gaze lowered again, slow and steady.

"Wait... I’m slow... what’s a bidding?"