Only Tyler and Old man are left outside.

The mechanical voice returned without emotion, repeating the instruction as though the deaths from the previous round meant nothing.

[Level 3: Clue: The safe doors are even numbers. Maximum three people are allowed in a door.]

The glowing words remained suspended above the five numbered doors while another warning appeared beneath them.

[Please enter a door before timer runs out, or you will be executed immediately.]

Then the countdown continued.

[10 seconds]

The old man beside Tyler remained frozen.

His face had gone pale enough to look almost gray, and sweat ran visibly down his forehead. His body trembled so badly that he could barely lift his feet.

Only two spaces remained nowhere.

Because every safe-looking option had already filled.

The old man let out a broken whisper.

"It’s over... we are going to die anyway..."

Tyler did not answer immediately.

Instead, he grabbed the old man by the arm and pulled him forward.

Straight toward Door No. 1.

The old man stumbled in shock as Tyler forced him inside.

"What are you doing?" he gasped.

Tyler shut the door behind them and finally allowed himself a faint smirk.

"No," he said calmly. "It’s not over."

Inside the room, the white walls remained blank.

No signal yet.

No judgment yet.

The countdown continued outside.

[2 seconds]

At the same time, beneath Tyler’s sleeve, the white fabric shifted almost invisibly.

Silver nanobots spread quietly across his right hand, forming a thin metallic glove beneath the cloth. If the room turned hostile, if the system tried to burn them the same way it had burned the others, he was ready to tear through whatever mechanism controlled the chamber and force a way out before the kill sequence completed.

His fingers flexed once.

Electricity whispered faintly under the hidden layer.

But his eyes remained fixed ahead.

Because from the very beginning, something about the wording had bothered him.

The clue had been too simple.

Too simple for a game built by people who treated death like entertainment.

And that meant the danger was probably not in the obvious answer.

[0 seconds]

The result came immediately.

From Door No. 2 and Door No. 4, voices rose first in celebration.

They had survived again.

Or so they thought.

Then the walls inside those rooms suddenly shifted color.

Red flooded both chambers at once.

The joy broke instantly into panic.

"How?!" the injured woman screamed, her voice cracking into disbelief. "Why? We picked even numbers!"

Another participant slammed against the door in blind terror.

"What’s wrong? Open it! Open it!"

But the system gave no answer.

A blinding flash filled both rooms.

The screams ended almost instantly.

The sound cut off so sharply that the silence afterward felt heavier than the deaths themselves.

When the doors opened again, only drifting ash remained.

Meanwhile, inside Door No. 1, the walls around Tyler and the old man turned green.

A soft mechanical tone confirmed survival.

Tyler slowly exhaled.

The nanobots beneath his sleeve withdrew immediately, melting back under the white suit until no trace remained. He had been seconds away from using them.

For the first time since entering the game, even he felt genuine relief.

The old man, still shaking, looked around as if unable to believe the color before him.

Then he turned toward Tyler in open confusion.

"You... how?"

The door reopened.

Both stepped back into the main chamber.

The smell of burnt air had returned again, stronger than before. Only two of the original group remained now.

The old man still stared at Tyler as though waiting for an answer he could not reach himself.

Tyler lifted one hand and pointed toward the glowing text still fading above the room.

[The safe doors are even numbers.]

"It never said the door number had to be even," Tyler said calmly.

The old man frowned.

Tyler continued.

"It said the safe doors are even numbers. That also means the number of people inside the room."

The old man blinked.

Tyler explained while glancing briefly at the empty rooms.

"In the first round, we split into six and four. Both rooms had even numbers, so both survived."

The old man’s eyes widened slightly.

"In the second round, four entered one room and four entered another. Again, even numbers."

He then pointed toward Door No. 1 behind them.

"Now there are only two of us here. Two is even."

His finger shifted toward the ash drifting from Doors No. 2 and No. 4.

"They had three and three. Odd numbers. So they died."

The old man looked at the ash, then at Tyler again, understanding finally reaching him.

His mouth opened but no words came.

Tyler remained calm.

Truthfully, he had not been certain.

He had only become suspicious because the game felt too easy for something designed by the Capital. If survival depended only on obvious door numbers, there would be no entertainment in that.

Which meant the clue itself had to be misleading.

And if he had guessed wrong—

His hidden plan had already been prepared.

The nanobots would have torn open the chamber before the kill system completed.

But now he did not need them.

This time, the logic had worked.

Tyler understood why he had survived, understood why the others had died, and understood that the clue had been designed to trap people who trusted the obvious answer too quickly. But even with that small success, he did not allow himself to relax.

A single correct guess meant very little inside a system built entirely around deception. If the first game had already twisted language so casually, there was no reason to believe the next game would allow logic alone to carry him through.

The white room remained silent for several seconds before the mechanical voice returned.

[Congratulations on winning the game. You may leave.]

The door behind them opened.

Tyler stepped out first, followed by the old man wearing badge 70, whose legs still looked weak enough to collapse at any moment. The old man glanced back once toward the room they had just left, as though still expecting the green walls to suddenly change their mind and kill them anyway.

Outside, another corridor waited, bright and sterile like every other part of the game facility. Servants and silent attendants guided survivors without speaking, directing them toward a transport route leading back to the resting section.

Some groups had already suffered worse.

In one section, ten participants had died immediately in a different room because they had divided themselves equally into five and five, believing equal balance guaranteed safety. Apparently that had been the wrong answer there.

Each group had its own trap.

By the time Tyler returned, he was taken not to the pod area but to a large waiting chamber labeled Lounge.

The room was built like a luxury resting hall, with soft seating, long glass walls, bright lighting, and tables already prepared with drinks and food as though people had not just survived a slaughter.

Rose was already there.

The moment she saw Tyler enter, her face changed instantly.

Her eyes lit up with obvious relief, and before anyone could stop her, she ran straight across the room and threw herself against him in a quick hug.

Tyler allowed it, one hand lightly patting her head while his eyes continued scanning the room automatically.

He noticed immediately that Rose was wet. Not damp from sweat, Actually soaked.

Water still clung to parts of her hair and sleeves.

He looked down slightly.

"What was your game?"

Rose pulled back, still breathing fast from excitement.

"It was bag picking," she said immediately. "They put many sacks in a room— sugar, flour, cotton, iron, stones, and other things, each separated. Then they told us each to pick one sack and drag it to the other side."

She pointed at her dress as if proving the story.

"Because I was the youngest there, they forced me to take the iron sack."

Her expression shifted from complaint to pride.

"It was heavier than the others. At first I thought I would lose. But after we started moving, rain suddenly began pouring from above."

Tyler listened carefully.

"Most of the sacks got ruined," Rose continued. "Sugar melted, flour became useless, cotton soaked through and tore apart. But heavy sacks like iron and stone survived. So people like me reached the other side without damaging what was inside."

Now she smiled fully.

"I won."

Tyler understood immediately.

Weight had looked like disadvantage. It had actually been protection.

"How many survived?" he asked.

"Seven."

That number made Tyler pause slightly.

Seven survivors meant her game had far better survival odds than his own group, where only two remained from ten.

So the Capital was not balancing games equally either.

Some groups were being reduced harder than others.

And that meant survival was partly luck before skill even began.

He also confirmed something important— different groups were receiving entirely different games. Some had ten players. Some fewer. Some more. There was no single structure.

While they waited, the Lounge doors opened again.

More survivors entered.

Tansy appeared among them.

The moment Rose saw her sister, she exhaled loudly in relief and rushed toward her. Even Tyler’s shoulders loosened slightly seeing Tansy unharmed.

Her expression was tired, but she was alive.

Then Victor arrived.

And after him, Kennedy.

Kennedy had blood dried near one side of his head, but he walked steadily enough.

Victor looked exhausted, though unharmed.

Tyler looked over all four of them carefully.

Sector 11 had survived the first game without losing anyone.

That alone was unusual.

Considering how quickly others had already died, keeping all five alive through the first stage felt almost abnormal.

But the room kept filling.

More survivors entered from other sectors.

Some looked stunned.

Some cried quietly the moment they saw familiar faces.

Some sat down immediately as if their bodies had only now remembered exhaustion.

And some entered alone— because no one else from their group had returned.

Eventually, once enough survivors had gathered, the mechanical voice filled the Lounge once more.

Everything became quiet.

[Congratulations on passing the first game.]

The words appeared on multiple screens at once.

Then the next line followed.

[Out of 75 participants, only 42 have survived.]

The number hung in the room heavily.

Seventy-five had entered.

Thirty-three were already dead.

And this was only the beginning.

The voice continued.

[The next game will begin in the evening.]

No further explanation followed.

Immediately after the announcement ended, the large screens inside the Lounge changed.

Bright advertisements began playing.

Luxury products, Capital brands, Solaris banking services, High-end transport, Food, Entertainment, strawberry Condoms.

As if death itself had simply become another program scheduled between commercials.