League of Fame | Jungkook Dystopian Novel

27

"You look good with that ring," I say to Jungkook as we head north of the Gangnam district. "What does it say?"

Jungkook looks at the inscription. "It says 'Answer: Love Myself.'"

"Interesting," I say. "I wonder if they really do love themselves. The idols."

Jungkook doesn't answer. I wonder the same question about myself. Have I ever loved myself? Will I ever love myself after the crimes I committed in League of Fame?

Jungkook and I stick to the alleys between the apartment complexes. The Gangnam district has remained the district of the wealthy. Although most of the country is poor, there has been a remnant that was able to preserve their wealth. Most of them are government workers, families responsible for maintaining the shield, or owners of farming companies. Forty square kilometers make up the Gangnam district. And this week, League of Fame will cover its streets in red.

The first clue rises in the sky a half kilometer away. Exactly at midnight. There is panic, screaming from citizens who are out in the hour. Jungkook and I exchange a glance that I interpret as our "action" look. At the moment, all that matters is retrieving the clue. I can't describe it except for a mix of desperation and determination, all combined into a nanosecond that we share.

Jungkook and I run. I'm surprised at how accustomed I've become to having a pistol and dagger attached to my side. I don't even notice their weight. Even after I survive the competition, I wonder if I will miss the weapons. Maybe I will feel empty without them.

There are several teams up ahead, brawling in a school playground. The juxtaposition of the innocent playground with gunshots being traded among it is striking. Several competitors fall down on the sand floor. Blood pools around their bodies like the opposite of a halo.

Jungkook and I enter the scene, hiding behind a large oak tree—one of the few that borders the playground. There is shouting, cries of pain. There must be at least a dozen people—in three or four teams.

The prize sits atop a plastic slide. The golden box reflects in the light of the street lamps, valuable like life itself.

"We should split up," Jungkook says. It's a miracle that I hear him over the gunshots. "I'll go left. You go right. We'll take down the others and go in to grab the clue when the coast is clear."

I nod. "Stay safe," I say, even though my wishes are useless in the heat of battle.

Jungkook nods, his jaw set in determined vigor. "Go!"

I split off, Jungkook going in the opposite direction. My pistol raised, I target the people who survived—the dozen stationed around the playground. Several shots in, my aim flies true into a girl's body across the grounds. I almost feel the impact of my shot—like a supernatural knowing that I've ended a life. I keep shooting. My aim is true again. And again. I lose count of how many bullets miss and how many bullets find their way to my competitors.

With ten bullets to last the week, I know I have to conserve. I use at least seven. Holstering my gun, I take out my dagger.

Just in time too, because a brawny girl twice my size crashes into me. We roll across the sand. Grit enters my mouth, and my body turns and turns. I find my sense of self when I stare up at the midnight sky. The girl raises her dagger, and I know she's aiming for my throat.

I raise my knife, jabbing the hilt into her stomach. She curses but doesn't relent. I have no other way to purchase momentum, so I keep it horizontal to block her coming strike.

When death lingers so close to you, you can feel it with all your senses. It overtakes you, making time slow down into a sluggish crawl. Dread fills my stomach. I find myself thinking a silent prayer even though I don't believe in God. Desperation will make anyone religious. Surely some sort of higher power values my life, would care about the time I enter the afterlife. Surely I am not just a worthless soul pressed against the sand of a playground.

Death is just like love. You don't know when it will find you.

"Cosma!"

Jungkook's voice makes time shift into normalcy again. He crashes into the girl above me, burying his dagger into her chest. Her death is silent, her body limp against the floor.

That could've been me.

"The coast is clear!" Jungkook says. "Let's go."

I stand, willing my limbs to work again. I follow my partner to the slide.

"There's two more!" I say, referring to the team that's also rushing to the center.

Jungkook raises his pistol. "Get the clue! I'll cover you."

I run ahead of my partner, giving him complete trust over my safety. He has never failed me before. I know he'll succeed again. I climb the plastic slide just as another girl climbs a ladder on the opposite side.

She falls, a bullet burrowing into her forehead. Another boy, who I assume is her partner, shouts out with a guttural volume.

I reach, grabbing the box and sliding down. The boy on the opposite side fires two shots. The first misses. The second pierces through my hair as it swings to the side in the air. I feel the strands pull apart, the locks falling to the ground.

"Let's go!" Jungkook yells. Several other teams are closing in. I have their full attention. After all, I hold the potential of lives in my hands.

"He has V's ring!" someone yells.

Fear spikes into my throat. I don't know how they've recognized the ring from so far away. Perhaps they noticed how we approached V at the banquet—how he came back to the room ring-less.

"There!" I say, setting off toward a staircase down into the basement level of the school.

Like Jungkook, I practically leap off the steps and break my fall of several yards. In the darkness, I see Jungkook's ring glinting in the starlight. I also see his lockpick come out. He works at record speed to unlock a basement door to the school. He pulls me in, closing the door and locking it just as more bullets barely miss our frames.

Several seconds later, banging erupts on the other side. But they don't know how to lock pick like Jungkook. They can try ramming down the door, but it's sturdy metal. It will take much more than a kick or two.

Jungkook and I enter one of the basement closets. He shuts the door and turns on the light. My hands are already unwrapping the gold box. My heart is in my throat. My body is shaking, every nerve aware of the narrow escape of death.

I read the note inside.

Come to the abandoned COEX mall. Friday right before midnight. Recall your favorite dramas — Suga.

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