The room was filled with loud cries of Ye In. It wasn’t those secretive sobs, nor was it a mere tear rolling down the cheek. Ye In nearly lost breath, her shoulders bouncing uncontrollably to the shivering throughout her entire body. The saltiness of the tears entered her agape mouth, but she couldn’t care less. She only cared about one of the most righteous person in the entire house who had now left them.   Jung Kook hated this. He hated seeing Ye In in this state. He hated seeing Soo Jung dead. He agreed that if one person could remain selfless despite everyone’s changing alliances and betrayals, it would’ve been the lifeless girl in front of them.   He swifted his attention to Myung Eun who looked completely blanched. “What happened?”   Myung Eun turned to him, and though she wasn’t crying, her eyes were glistening wet with the tears of guilt she hoped he wouldn’t find out. “The arrow shot out of nowhere… Like it did with Seok Jin.”   “Again?” He uttered. His eyes scanned the room for a gap that could become the entrance for the arrow. But there was no window or anything that could allow the attack to happen. Then his eyes darted to the bow that laid scattered on the floor, and he vaguely remembered Myung Eun’s Sagittarius zodiac, the one with the bow and arrow.   Myung Eun flinched, seeing him hold the glance longer than she wished. With difficulty, she got up on her knees again and had to think of the next lie. “I’m thinking the arrow might be some sort of robot. Maybe it was controlled using a remote controller from another place. That’s why it managed to fly out the wall,” she said.   The theory was very Myung Eun like; so naive with endless ideas that realists would immediately dismiss. She had created a good excuse for herself, and it seemed Jung Kook was slowly believing her.   “Did you see it move from the wall on its own?” He asked.   “No, me and Soo Jung were discussing the special item when she suddenly got hit. I jumped back in surprise and fell down. Then you two entered,” Myung Eun told her rendition of the truth, which seemed believable indeed. “I guess she ran out of time.”   Jung Kook pursed his lips together, but decided to give it more thought later. For now, he walked over to Ye In and gently carried her by the arm to get her back on the feet.   The girl didn’t say a word and flung her arms around Jung Kook. He was caught off guard, but his heart never had the time to adjust to its newfound emotion. She was still crying, and he hated that helpless sound. He hated not being able to do anything about it.     The rest of the game ended in peace. By the time it had reached the last few players on the list, they already managed to find an item to be exempted from the game. They received news that both Tae Hyung and Soo Jung were no longer with them. Reality was a step closer to their paranoia. After cheating death once, their hope cascaded with the lives of two people.   They sat around the dining table with the reluctance to discuss what happened. Because any conversations to the loss would cut open the fresh scars none were able to bear. Soo Jung had played a big part in their life; losing her was like losing a mother. And Tae Hyung had always been the life of the party before the game took his sanity and turned him grim. The game was trapping their mindset.   “Four more games to go,” Ho Seok’s voice broke their roaring silence. He kept his eyes on the center of the table to avoid making eye contact with anyone.   “Four? How would you know that?” Nam Joon replied.   “We saw a door with a lock. There were seven letters we had to enter in order to open it. We assume it’s the way out,” Ho Seok spoke, slightly meeting their eyes for a short second he could not hold. He looked away immediately.   “It is true.” Jung Kook decided to back him up. “Based on the architecture and layout of the building, that door to the basement is most likely our way out.”   “Four more games to go,” Ji Ae repeat silently under her breath, looking around the table to count the nine remaining people. If people were bound to die every game, how many of them would survive at the end?   Ji Soo roared in frustration, slamming her fist loudly against the table. The entire furniture quivered in response. She got up from her seat, screeching her chair while pushing it backwards. “If everyone had stuck to the plan during the voting, none of this would’ve happened. You are all playing selfishly, and it is getting us nowhere!”   “Do you have such shameless audacity to accuse us after what you have done?” Yoon Gi questioned her. His tone was too calm, but he was definitely mocking her.   Ji Soo blinked. “What have I—”   “During Russian Roulette, I vividly remember you tried to save yourself by letting Ji Ae get the bullet you thought was the death number,” he answered.   Ji Soo flinched, knowing he was right. She exchanged a look with Ji Ae whom she had already made up with earlier on, only to have their friendship break apart at this reminder.   “If you want to preach regarding a selfless behavior, I suggest you walk the talk instead of uttering empty words. After all, who would obey a hypocrite?” Yoon Gi spoke, stabbing Ji Soo’s chest with the harsh reality.   There was another silence, and Soo Jung’s absence became much more prominent. No one was there to stop a fight from breaking out. No one was there to reassure everything would be alright. Because without her presence, they came to realize that nothing was going to be fine.   “What we know for sure is that someone among you is a killer,” Ho Seok suddenly stated, remembering the condition he found Tae Hyung’s body in. “I have lost my entire faith in unity and selflessness.”   Mi Joo looked worriedly at his brazen declaration. Perhaps it was a momentary confusion due to his anger, and maybe it was caused by the close friendship he held with Tae Hyung. Either way, he had a point. When they saw the word ‘Kill’ bolded next to Tae Hyung’s name on the TV screen, none could believe it.   “Look!” She suddenly shouted, noticing the TV screen was showing something different and new. The number seven was shown in big letters invading the entire screen. “That must be another important number.”   “At least we can be sure of several things,” Nam Joon commented after some observations. “There are seven games, and at the end of every game we shall receive a number. This number is our key to freedom.”     That night, Ji Ae was unable to sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about Soo Jung no longer being with them. It haunted her subconscious. So she went down to the kitchen to make herself something warm to drink, surprised to see Nam Joon leaning against the fridge. He heard her coming and frowned from behind his notebook. When did he start wearing glasses?   “Did you come to eradicate our food supplies?” He asked with attempted humor.   Ji Ae flattened her eyes and walked up to the drawer with all the mug and glasses, picking one up and making sure he saw it. “I am not as gluttonous as I was before,” she uttered with annoyance.   He chuckled lightly and continued his attention on his notebook.   It was quiet except for the sound of the water being boiled in a traditional silver kettle and the occasional scratching of pen onto paper. The silence was disturbing to Ji Ae.   “It’s okay to cry, you know,” she suddenly stated.   Nam Joon looked up from his notebook, giving her a curious look.   “I know you fancied Soo Jung, so losing her must’ve been hard for you too,” Ji Ae carried on, her eyes on the white steam coming from the kettle.   “I never fancied her, I admired her,” Nam Joon corrected.   “So you like her.”   “There is a difference.” Nam Joon smiled, and she frowned. “I do not have any romantic feelings for her, but I admire the way she tried her hardest to look out for everyone’s well being even during this game.”   Ji Ae noticed his softening gaze when he spoke, and it was nearly impossible to believe he did not like Soo Jung in that way.