In the world we live in, there is no good or evil. Everything revolves around who is weak and who has power. The lower you sink to the bottom of the food chain, the higher the possibility of being eaten alive. Or, you can simply depend on people at the top, making it easier for you to survive. The only element you need is tactics, rolling the dice at the right angle.
Despite that, you need to know the game you're playing, the rules, and the players. One wrong move, you return back to the first block, and you're wiped out.
After all, it's not about being smart, it's about retaining sufficient knowledge. With the correct steps, the portal is already open for you. You just have to wait for the perfect moment to throw in the deck and strike.
In the end, we don't risk our lives for nothing, there is a purpose for our actions. That reward is what encourages us to do the worst. Maybe it is self centered, maybe it'll hurt someone in the way, but if it's something you truly want, then there's nothing stopping you. • • • • A message appeared on the phone.
𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞? 𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨?
Clicking on yes, he waited for any kind of occurrence, the screen stuck on loading. The minute it reached ninety nine percent, the phone produced a crackling sound and turned off. He groaned, not bothering with it anymore as he shoved it in the pouch of his sleeveless hoodie.
He was exhausted and it was too late for him to complain. Slowly, he nodded off, trying to slap himself awake. His attempts were in vain, falling into a deep sleep, lying flat on his stomach in the middle of the lawn.
»»---->
The sun rose on the horizon, golden rays flaring across the blue sky. Wooyoung was still dead to the world, not taking notice of the banal stares he was receiving from passersby, thinking he was either homeless or actually dead. His arms and legs were sprawled out on the field, dried drool on one part of his face, and lawngrass attached to the other.
Fluttering his eyes open, a peachy hue cast over his vision, he became cognizant of the myriad of eyeballs judging him brazenly. Without any hesitation, he jumped up, brushing the grass from his face and the remains on his palms. Wooyoung could not make out the conundrum storming its way through, yet it vexed him how the citizens trampled over him and his condition. He held his face in his hands out of sheer embarrassment and ran into the building, directly to his dorm. The door was already open, so he entered without a second thought.
He was met by San doing sit ups and that blonde boy from the other day reading a book on his bed. They were small talking, not taking note of Wooyoung standing there. He made his way to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, which caught their attention. San wiped his sweat with the back of his wrist, panting excessively, his lips parted as he caught his breath. Wooyoung took longer than usual in the shower, mostly because he zoned out half way. Snapping out of it, he turned off the faucet, completely soaked.
