The Rabbit-masked figures cowed before her, heads bowed like students facing a strict teacher.
The old woman asked, "How many are left?"
A Rabbit with a clipboard stepped forward. "One hundred and two."
Her voice dripped with displeasure. "Still that many? What are you doing?"
Silence. Nobody dared answer.
"Cancer has spread," she continued coldly. "Speed things up. I don't want to come here again. Find the best container—results by the day after tomorrow at the latest."
"Yes, ma'am!" The Rabbits stood at attention in unison.
The old woman waved dismissively, and the one pushing her wheelchair rolled her away.
I ducked back into the break room. Once the wheelchair faded into the distance, I crept back to the office door.
The remaining Rabbits remained seated at the desks, working busily.
The one with the clipboard clapped. "You heard her. The Master's health is failing. Work through the night—adjust tomorrow's game parameters. We need results by the day after tomorrow."
"Yes!"
They responded in unison.
I replayed what I'd heard: Container. Cancer. Body failing...
Was the final winner of this game being selected as a healthy vessel? Like the organ trafficking rings I'd read about in the news?
The conclusion chilled me to the bone.
This wasn't the place to ponder it. I needed to get back and turn in my task.
As I turned to leave, a hand clapped down on my shoulder from behind.
Vivian's teasing voice rang out: "Gotcha, Night Scout."
My whole body went rigid.
Vivian was a Cat—a patrol player.
Worse, she wasn't bothering to keep her voice down. The Rabbits in the office had definitely heard.
Footsteps approached the door.
Instinct took over. As the door swung open, I shoved Vivian inside.
Then I slipped into the break room next door.
Vivian let out a scream.
The Rabbit who'd opened the door asked in a chilling tone, "Did you hear everything?"
Vivian, still dazed, stammered, "What?"
The Rabbit didn't answer. Instead, it clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her deeper into the office.
Her muffled cries for mercy echoed through the door. Then—a crash, like a heavy bench hitting the floor.
And Vivian's agonized screams.
I closed my eyes. I couldn't listen anymore.
I left the break room and ran back toward the dormitory without looking back.
I told myself I wasn't wrong. Vivian was my enemy. She would have shown me the same mercy—none.
That was the nature of this game.
By the time I returned to the dorm area to submit my task, the guilt had numbed away.
I photographed the class register and uploaded it to the Hall Warden.
After successfully submitting the task, I composed myself and returned to my room.
Quinn hadn't gone to sleep. He was waiting for me.
"Find anything?" he asked immediately.
I was still suspicious of him. "The Rabbits are definitely human, not dummies. Are you sure you weren't seeing things?"
Quinn's expression hardened. "I couldn't have been wrong."
I studied his face—it didn't look like a lie.
Considering what I'd overheard about the game's true purpose—if it was really about harvesting healthy bodies for organ transfer—
Then winning meant nothing. The prize was a fraud. And the "rebirth" claim was just a lie.
I decided to tell Quinn everything.
Quinn's face darkened, his fists clenching. "I knew it..." He sounded both angry and grief-stricken.
"You suspected this?"
His mood shifted—he seemed lost in his own world. He wouldn't say another word, just lay down and pulled the covers over himself.
Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed too.
After lights-out, I tossed and turned, thinking about what I'd learned.
Tomorrow had to be the final day.
From the Rabbits' conversation, it was clear—tomorrow would be a bloodbath.
Over a hundred people would be slaughtered to find the smartest, luckiest, strongest among them.
It was exactly like the ancient method of cultivating Gu—placing venomous creatures in a jar and letting them kill each other.
Forty-nine days later, only the King of Poison would remain.
But the King of Poison was just a tool for the cultivator, made more venomous by consuming all others.
Just like us contestants—surviving round after round, only to gain nothing in the end.
The more I thought about it, the more I knew I couldn't just sit and wait.
I slid out of bed and crept over to Quinn's. "Quinn, let's escape."