Just as the tense atmosphere in the dormitory began to fade, the automatic door slid open.
Four Triangle Masked Guards with submachine guns marched in, heading straight toward Kai.
Kai blinked, caught off guard. "Gentlemen… what's this about?"
One of the Guards spoke flatly, "Player 250. The Execution Team Leader requests your presence. Please come with us."
The announcement immediately stirred everyone.
Cho Sang-woo narrowed his eyes. "What's this, Number 250? Are you one of them — an undercover agent?"
Player 101, Jang Deok-su, sneered. "Yeah, Number 250, you got something to explain?"
The room erupted into murmurs and suspicion. Only Ji-yeong and Kang Sae-byeok remained calm.
Kang Sae-byeok, sitting beside Ji-yeong, leaned over. "You're not reacting?"
Ji-yeong replied evenly, "I trust him. Besides, you're not panicking either — doesn't that mean you trust him too?"
Kang Sae-byeok shrugged. "I don't trust him, but I trust what I've seen. His actions in the games weren't anything like a plant from the organizers. What kind of undercover agent acts that terrified of dying? That kind of fear… you can't fake it."
Ji-yeong tilted her head. "Then why are they taking him?"
Kang Sae-byeok sighed. "I'm not a god. How the hell should I know?"
Kai ignored the barrage of questions and left quietly with the four Guards.
As they walked down the corridor, Kai joked lightly, "I'm unarmed, you know. Do you really need four guys with guns just to escort me?"
The leading Guard answered, "We're not guarding against you — we're guarding against the others. Your performance during the games has been exceptional. The organizers are worried some players might attack you once they heard you've been summoned."
Kai chuckled. "Oh, so you're my bodyguards now? Well, thanks for the VIP treatment."
Soon, they arrived at a lavish room — far too elegant for anything in the facility.
Art pieces hung on the walls, expensive wine gleamed in crystal glasses, and a steaming steak sat neatly on a silver plate under dim golden lights.
Kai raised a brow. "Fancy setup," he muttered, sitting down without hesitation and digging into the food.
Halfway through his meal, a distorted voice came from behind him — cold, mechanical, and disguised.
"How do you know that was prepared for you?"
Kai didn't even bother turning around. "You brought me all the way here just to watch you eat? That doesn't make much sense, does it?"
The Execution Team Leader in the black mask chuckled darkly. "Aren't you afraid it's poisoned?"
Kai sliced another piece of steak, unfazed. "If you wanted me dead, you could've just had your Guards shoot me in the dormitory. I'm not bulletproof. Why waste good steak and wine?"
He chewed slowly, deliberately.
"Number 250," the masked man said, "you really are a clever one."
Kai took a sip of wine. "Glad you think so. Now, why don't you tell me why I'm here?"
The masked man stepped closer, moving to stand in front of him. "It's impolite to keep your back to someone while speaking. Your country, U.S. is known as a land of etiquette, isn't it?"
Kai smiled thinly. "Didn't you just move in front of me? Besides, that rule only applies when you're talking to a person. You think I should show courtesy to beasts?"
The Execution Team Leader tilted his head slightly. "Impressive. You've got guts talking like that to someone who could have you killed on the spot. I like you more and more."
Kai gave a low laugh. "Am I wrong? Humans are defined by their humanity. You run death games for sport — what part of that is human? No humanity, no need for manners."
The masked man sighed, amused. "Alright, alright. I know your country's culture runs deep. I wouldn't win an argument anyway."
Kai smirked. "Not that deep. it heritage."
"Enough wordplay," the Execution Team Leader said sharply. "Let's get straight to the point."
Kai snorted. "You mean directly to the point. You just mixed idioms, but sure, go on."
The masked man continued, ignoring the jab. "Your performance in the first four rounds has impressed both the VIPs and myself. After a meeting with the higher-ups at the Game Headquarters in the United States, we've decided to offer you an opportunity."
Kai raised an eyebrow. Game headquarters… in the U.S.? Americans really are everywhere, he thought.
"What kind of opportunity?"
"You can skip the remaining two games," the masked man said. "And walk away right now — with fifty million U.S. dollars. That's more than the original total prize pool of ₩45.6 billion."
Kai leaned back, eyes narrowing. "We've got a saying back home: 'There's no such thing as a free lunch.' What's the catch?"
The Execution Team Leader poured another glass of wine and handed it to him.
"The offer is simple. Take my position — become the next Execution Team Leader. Ten years, ten games. One game a year."
Kai's expression hardened. "So basically, you want me to become your puppet. A killing tool for a decade."
The masked man shrugged. "Call it what you want. Even in your country, or in mine, you won't find a job paying five million dollars a year."
Kai asked dryly, "And what exactly would I be doing? Just executing players like you do?"
"Not just that," the masked man explained. "You'll also help us patch the loopholes in future games. Prevent players from exploiting rule gaps like you did. After all, that's your specialty."
He handed the glass to Kai.
Kai rubbed his temples and sighed. "So you want me to block every path of survival for future players. That's a rotten deal. You're basically asking me to burn the bridge after crossing it — to make sure no one else ever makes it out alive."
The masked man's voice grew curious. "I thought you'd agree without hesitation."
Kai set the glass down, untouched. "Then you thought wrong. I'm no saint, but I've still got a bottom line. If I have to become like you — I'd rather take my chances in the next two rounds."
He stood up, pushing his chair back.
"Thanks for the meal," he said coolly, walking toward the door.
"Are you not afraid you'll die in the next games?" the masked man called out.
Kai glanced back over his shoulder. "I believe I'll walk out of here — with the prize money."
As he stepped into the corridor, sunlight streamed in through the narrow window, bathing him in a pale, golden glow.
For a moment, he almost looked untouchable.