Yet no matter how long I waited, the machine under my feet didn't react.
I swallowed hard, slowly raised my head, and looked toward Harrison at the front.
He was watching me with worried eyes. "Are you okay?"
From Harrison's angle, he couldn't see the number under my feet.
I didn't know whether to nod or shake my head.
I just stood there, looking at him with an expression that was both terrified and absurd.
Then I finally heard what the broadcast was saying.
"An apology to all students—due to a machine malfunction, we're unable to tally the numbers automatically. Would each class monitor please pick up the tablet beside your feet and register every student's results manually?"
Hope flared in my chest.
Manual registration—not machine tallying.
Which meant, if Harrison was willing to give me a chance, I might still live.
I watched with complicated emotions as Harrison bent down, picked up the tablet, and walked toward me.
His face was serious.
When he reached my side, I discreetly grabbed his wrist and gave him a look.
Harrison had seen my number too—just one short.
His expression turned a little odd, as if regretting the situation.
Sweat rolled down my forehead. I looked at him pleadingly.
I really regretted punching him yesterday.
Impulse was the devil.
Harrison held my gaze for a few seconds, then lowered his head and began filling in the tablet.
When I saw him write "150" next to my name—
I straight-up burst into tears.
Dignity be damned. If staying alive was on the line, what the hell did face matter?
Harrison gave me an encouraging smile, patted my shoulder, and moved on to the next player.
He was registering the next contestant when the broadcast sounded again.
"Warning: We have received reports that a class monitor is helping a student cheat—"
My legs gave out and I dropped to the ground.
It's over. They're talking about me, aren't they?
But the next second—
The broadcast continued, "Previous violations cannot be investigated. From this point forward, any discrepancy between registered and actual numbers will be treated as cheating. All students, please comply voluntarily. Those who do not will face severe punishment."
What luck.
I let out a breath and lay flat on my back.
Staring at the blue sky, I thought choosing the second position had been the right call.
Whatever came first in these games was either the best news or the worst—no middle ground.
Cries and pleas echoed around me from all sides.
No prizes for guessing—they were all like me, people who'd failed the assessment.
Just not as lucky.
The system had issued its warning. Even if a class monitor wanted to help, no one dared cheat now.
I glanced toward Harrison.
Gloria was on her knees, sobbing, snot and tears streaming down her face, clutching his pant legs and bowing her head in desperate pleading.
Harrison shook his head at her with guilt-ridden helplessness, then wrote something on the tablet.
Frantic, Gloria lunged for the tablet in his hand.
Harrison jumped back, instinctively hoisting the tablet above his head.
His movement caught the attention of the Rabbit auditor.
No sound. No visible weapon.
One second Gloria was tugging at Harrison's clothes.
The next, her eyes went wide and she fell backward, stiff as a board.
She lay motionless on the ground.
Harrison looked down at her, frowning, his face twisted with discomfort.
I figured his heart must be aching.
Last night, with so much on the line, he'd chosen to spare Gloria.
And now, not long after, she'd died right in front of him.
I sighed.
Yesterday I'd resented Harrison for not seizing the chance to kill Gloria. Now that the tables had turned on me—
I was nothing but grateful.
Thank God the monitor was Harrison. If it had been anyone else, I'd probably be dead today.
After Gloria's incident, even the players who'd failed were too scared to resort to violence.
They sat on the ground, hands pressed together in prayer.
I watched them for a moment, then grew curious.
Someone like Gloria—an older woman—failing on physical stamina, that was understandable.
But I'd only managed 149 high knees.
Harrison looked lankier than me, even weaker.
And he'd passed?
I was curious.
While Harrison was in the back tallying numbers, I slipped to the front and peeked at his counter.
First glance, I thought I was hallucinating.
I rubbed my eyes and looked again.
No mistake—Harrison's counter displayed a red "74."
He'd only done seventy-four high knees?
Which meant Harrison hadn't passed either.
I was still reeling from this revelation when someone patted my shoulder from behind.
I turned. Harrison had finished registering and was back.
He saw that I'd seen his score, then smiled. "Keep it a secret."
I nodded, understanding now.
When the class monitor role was up for grabs, Harrison had volunteered—and now I knew why.
In this game, there seemed to be only one rule, but it was riddled with hidden conditions.
Like last night's patrol—the monitor got advance knowledge of the rules and could choose whether or not to share them.
Like today—the monitor could alter his own score, while other members couldn't.
I even suspected the counter malfunction had been premeditated.
There was no point if everything was left to machines.
The game designers seemed far more interested in revealing the depths of human nature.
I made my way back to my spot and stood at attention.
After all the classes finished registering, the system stayed silent for several minutes.
The players who'd failed waited in terror of death's arrival.
Their faces were blank, hollow with despair.
Some stared at the sky, others sat vacantly on the ground, as if they'd given up fighting back.
Then the broadcast came on.
"After deliberation, the Rabbit Overseers have determined that due to the equipment malfunction, the scoring in this round was unfair. The Instructors have decided to give everyone a chance and proceed directly to the fitness segment."
The failures leaped to their feet, elated.
Those who'd passed looked mightily displeased.
But here, the game organizers were the law. Even if they were unhappy, for the sake of that hundred-million grand prize, they had to swallow it.
Everyone stood, preparing for the next challenge.
Suddenly, the ground shook violently again.
My first thought was another earthquake.
I turned and saw two more colored squares rising from the ground on either side of me.
Their hues were different from the black one I stood on.
From left to right: blue, black, red.
The spacing between each square was roughly three meters.
Which meant going from a blue square to a red one meant sprinting six meters.
The system's voice rang out.