After finishing the meal, per the broadcast's instructions, we placed our trays in the collection area and returned to our seats.
The broadcast announced: "Class assignments will now begin. Students, please remain at your seats."
Our table was near the back, where the view was poor. I could barely see the front. I could only hear the broadcast reading out names and numbers.
After nearly a hundred names, I finally heard my number.
"Number 3720, Class 8."
Quinn's number was 3721, also Class 8—no surprise since we were roommates.
The girl who'd helped me earlier was in Class 8 too. She looked relieved as she headed for the Class 8 area.
The class monitor, who had been pre-selected, stood at the front of our group.
He was a guy wearing glasses, slightly plump but sturdy-looking.
When everyone had gathered, he introduced himself quietly. "I'm Harrison. Let's work together to survive."
His gaze was steady, and his tone was calm but confident.
I nodded internally. Having someone like this as class monitor wasn't bad.
With the class assigned, the Rabbit Overseer led us back to our dorms.
We passed through a large courtyard. In its center stood a statue of a Greek goddess, surrounded by a flower garden, with an outdoor running track encircling it.
It looked oddly like a real campus.
The dormitory for Class 8 was in the same area Quinn and I had been assigned earlier.
After all twenty members arrived, the Rabbit Hall Warden rolled out to greet us.
"Welcome to Class 8. Class assignments have been finalized. From now on, all game activities will be conducted by class. Good luck, students."
The Hall Warden zipped away.
Our class had already done some introductions during lunch, so we weren't total strangers.
Those who'd survived the morning clearly had some ability.
After an hour of free time, evening activities were announced.
Harrison gathered everyone. "Tonight we have a patrol mission. I need to select two people for perimeter patrol. Any volunteers?"
Several hands went up. Harrison selected two guys.
Then he looked around. "I also need two people for a special task. I'll do one—anyone else?"
I raised my hand.
After the initial tests and the cafeteria ordeal, I'd realized one thing.
In this game, the people at the front had a higher survival rate.
Harrison nodded. "Alright. You and me for the special task."
A middle-aged woman in our class—Gloria—objected. "I don't think the class monitor and Alex should be paired together. Harrison should go with someone else."
She stared at me with obvious wariness.
I didn't know what I'd done to make her suspicious, and I didn't care.
Harrison overruled her. "I pick Alex. If anyone has a problem with that, they can volunteer themselves."
Gloria fell silent.
When everyone dispersed to prepare, Quinn gave me a thumbs-up. "See you tonight."
I nodded.
That evening, Harrison and I received our assignment cards.
The front displayed a patrol area map. The back had our task.
"Night Scout special mission: Find the class register and photograph it."
"What's a Night Scout?" I asked.
Harrison pointed to our card. "See 'Night Scout' printed on it? I think it means our role. There should be a 'Cat' role too—from the patrol group."
He looked concerned. "The rules say if a Cat catches a Night Scout, the Cat's team wins. So our teammates are essentially the enemy in tonight's game."
I'd suspected as much. "So the special task is designed for teams to hunt each other."
Harrison agreed. "And it'll be dangerous at night. The Rabbit Overseers have gone quiet since evening—I can't reach them."
I remembered what Quinn had said about the Rabbit Overseers becoming motionless at night.
"Could they be robots?"
Harrison's expression flickered—something I didn't catch at the time.
Before heading out, we swapped phone numbers. Harrison showed me his phone's camera and a feature that let him take photos without unlocking the screen.
We checked the map and Identified our target: the Class 8 roster, located in the teacher's office at the far end of the dormitory area.
Harrison and I moved through the dark corridors, sticking to the shadows.
We reached the teacher's office. I pulled open the sliding door, used my phone's flashlight, and located desk number 8.
On the desk's bookshelf I found the class register—thick, dense, almost entirely handwritten.
No time to study it. I photographed the pages and stuffed the register into my bag.
As I left the teacher's office and entered the adjacent staff break room, the sound of rolling wheels echoed from the corridor.
Along with numerous footsteps.
That many people couldn't be patrol players—they had to be Rabbit Overseers.
But Quinn had said they went dormant at night. Had he lied?
Had the button game been a trap? Had Quinn been leading me into danger all along?
With players dwindling, even former allies could become enemies—only one winner could remain.
I panicked. The break room was empty—nowhere to hide.
I pressed myself behind the door, praying they wouldn't find me.
They didn't enter the break room. Instead, they went straight into the teacher's office.
I heard the door close, then hushed voices.
Curiosity won out. I crept to the office door and peered through the glass panel.
Inside, dozens of Rabbit-masked figures surrounded an elderly woman in a wheelchair.
She was elegantly dressed, her silver hair pinned into a neat bun, her lips painted red.
She wore seven gemstone rings across her ten fingers, a luxurious hand-knit blanket draped over her legs.