Episode 44.
25 October 2025, Saturday. Afternoon. Gangwon-do, Inje-eup, X Game Resort. Field B. Blue team's start position.
'Team 107' moved into position.
Min-jae glanced back over his shoulder, a silent question passing between them—Are you sure?
Den answered with a small, firm nod.
He stayed near the flag, beside Mi-yeon, using a low barricade as cover. She was clearly terrified. Her gaze kept darting toward the direction where Min-jae's group had disappeared, then snapping back to Den, again and again, as if anchoring herself to his presence.
Den leaned against the adjacent cover to the right of the flag and watched her without meaning to. The way she held her marker too tightly, the stiff set of her shoulders—it all made something soften in his chest.
"Are you scared?" he asked gently.
She turned her head toward him, met his eyes for a split second—and then, as if admitting something shameful, dropped her gaze, her shoulders curling inward.
"A little," she admitted.
Almost immediately she frowned, scolding herself for the slip, and turned back toward the field.
Den spoke again. The mask hid his expression, but the smile was unmistakable in his voice.
"Mi-yeon, we don't really need to worry yet. We're defending the flag, deep in the rear. There's a good chance no one will even reach us."
She looked at him again.
"Aren't you scared at all?"
"Standing next to you?" he replied lightly. "Not even a bit."
Mi-yeon lowered her eyes, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips before before she could hide it.
Observation Tent.
So-mi sat in front of a tablet, her posture straight, composed. On the screen was a live map of the field with GPS markers showing only her team's positions.
A radio rested near her hand. It's one way only. This is intentional—to ensure no one was tempted to pull off their mask mid-battle just to talk. They can hear her, but can't talk back.
She kept her expression neutral—her thumb instinctively finding its way to her teeth.
"So far, everything's fine," she said into the radio. "Remember to deactivate your sensors immediately if you're eliminated. Otherwise I won't know."
Her eyes flicked across the display.
"Chang-woo's group is in position. Min-jae's team is advancing according to plan."
Then she noticed two markers almost overlapping near the flag.
She frowned slightly and spoke into the radio, irritation edging her tone.
"Mi-yeon. Den. What is that, a group hug? Take separate positions so you can cover each other. Don't cluster."
Blue team's flag zone.
Back at the flag, Den turned to Mi-yeon.
The idea of him leaving—of being alone—clearly terrified her.
"No, Den… please," she whispered. "Don't leave me here by myself. I'm already scared."
Den carefully placed his gloved hand over hers. Even through the thick material, Mi-yeon jolted, eyes widening as she looked up at him.
He spoke slowly, steadily, pouring reassurance into every word.
"So-mi's right. I can't protect you if I'm standing right next to you."
"But I'm scared."
"I know.
So we'll do this very simply," he said.
"You watch the approaches to the flag. If you see anyone—anyone at all—you shout as loud as you can and start shooting in that direction.
You don't even need to lean out. Just aim that way and fire blindly. I'll handle the rest. Okay?"
"…Okay," Mi-yeon said, her voice thin. She was balanced on the edge between mild panic and something much deeper.
Den nodded once—and then slipped away silently along the left flank, toward the forest edge, taking a position slightly uphill from the flag.
Central Trenches. Blue team's positions.
Chang-woo's team settled into their positions.
Chang-woo and Seo-a took the main trench. Seo-yeon claimed a higher, bunker-like position overlooking the field.
Left Flank – Forest Zone. Blue team's position.
The rest of the team advanced through the trees.
Min-jae led them with calm precision, moving quickly from cover to cover, signaling with sharp, practiced gestures. He kept the line tight, ensuring no one broke formation, and that every player had someone covering them.
It was a textbook—efficient, disciplined, almost elegant.
The only exception was Han-bin.
She darted after Min-jae in short, playful sprints, like a determined little shadow. Her eyes were bright with excitement, her faith in her captain absolute. She didn't follow orders so much as her own instincts—laughing softly, clearly enjoying herself far more than the situation probably warranted.
And yet, somehow, she kept up.
Above them, unseen, the match clock continued to tick down.
The first real clash was getting closer.
Min-jae reached the next line of cover and caught a flicker of movement between the trees.
His reaction was instant.
He raised his marker and fired.
Pop.
The unlucky opponent jerked and dropped out of the game.
Min-jae immediately ducked back behind cover.
Pop-pop-pop.
Paintballs smashed against the barricade and the dirt where he had been standing a second earlier.
"Contact!" Min-jae shouted.
With his free hand he grabbed Han-bin by the front of her vest and yanked her down into a crouch.
She squealed—not in fear, but in pure excitement.
Around them, the rest of the team scrambled into cover, and the forest erupted into a chaotic exchange of fire.
Central Trenches. Red team's positions.
Kim Seo-jun, the captain of the physics team, chose a brutally aggressive strategy.
He sent seven players to flood the forest flank—locking it down with sheer pressure—while he himself moved with two others along the opposite side. His plan was simple and confident: swing through the empty flank, cut into the center from the side, and take control of the field.
An experienced player's logic.
No one would go low. And if someone did, he was confident he could handle it.
His trio moved fast and clean through the right flank—empty, just as expected. Instead of heading straight for the flag, they angled inward toward the central positions.
Seo-yeon spotted them too late.
Three opponents burst into her sector at once.
Pop. Pop.
She fired back and ducked behind her cover.
"Chang-woo oppa!!! They're on me!"
Pop-pop-pop.
Paintballs shattered against her position.
She leaned out again, firing at one of Seo-jun's teammates—and missed the movement behind her.
Pop.
Just one shot.
No wasted ammo.
Seo-yeon felt the dull, unmistakable thud in her back.
"Damn it."
She shut off her sensor.
Chang-woo realized instantly how bad the situation had become.
He signaled Seo-a to stay in cover, then moved forward himself, sliding into a position between her and the enemy who had taken Seo-yeon's height advantage.
Observation Tent.
So-mi watched Seo-yeon's marker blink out.
Useless birdbrain, she thought sharply.
But her voice over the radio remained calm, clipped, professional.
"Team. Contact in the center. We've lost the key elevation over the trenches."
Left Flank – Forest Zone. Blue team's position.
Min-jae grimaced.
"Damn."
His own situation wasn't bad—yet.
He'd lost two players, but they'd eliminated four from the opposing side. Three versus three.
Still, Chang-woo's group was now in a clearly losing position.
Min-jae leaned out, fired, then shifted again—sliding behind a stack of tires placed haphazardly as cover. His eyes met Han-bin's for a brief second.
She was firing wildly in every direction like a machine gun, shrieking with exhilaration.
Min-jae shook his head, smiling despite himself.
Central Trenches. Blue team's positions.
Chang-woo managed to slow the enemy advance. Seo-a supported him well, laying down enough suppressive fire to keep the opposing players from flanking freely.
But the position itself was terrible.
Experience won.
Chang-woo leaned out once more, lining up a careless opponent sprinting across open ground.
Pop-pop-pop.
He grinned.
"One down!"
Pop. Pop.
Two heavy impacts slammed into his chest.
The smile vanished.
He turned slowly toward Seo-a.
And in that moment, she saw everything on his face—determination, regret, resolve, care. A raw, unfiltered spectrum that made her understand, for the first time, how much it had mattered to him to stay by her side.
For Chang-woo, the game was already over.
Two experienced players were closing in. He hadn't been able to stop them.
Seo-a heard herself think, with startling clarity:
He's so real.
She leaned out of cover, firing desperately to buy a few more seconds.
It wasn't enough.
A paintball struck her helmet, bursting near her temple.
She was out.
Observation Tent.
So-mi drew a slow breath, forcing the tension down.
"The center is lost. Chang-woo's group is eliminated," she reported.
"Min-jae, you may be flanked from both sides."
Then, after a brief pause:
"Den. Mi-yeon. Be ready."
Far from the front lines, near the flag, the words hung in the air—heavy, ominous.
And for the first time since the match began, danger was moving straight toward them.
Left Flank – Forest Zone. Blue team's position.
Min-jae managed to take down one more opponent.
But the exchange cost him his last remaining teammate.
Now it was just the two of them—Min-jae and Han-bin.
Even Han-bin could feel the tension now. She had gone unusually quiet, though she still spun restlessly in place, unable to stand still for even a second.
Min-jae knew what was coming.
Reinforcements from the center would arrive any moment.
"Han-bin," he said firmly, "watch the center."
He sighed inwardly.
It's useless. She's still turning in every direction and looking at me more than the field.
Han-bin and tactics simply don't mix.
Observation Tent.
At the judges' monitors, Yu-ra stood beside Ko Su-ho.
The match she had been officiating earlier was already over, and she had returned to the command area to check the overall standings.
"So?" she asked.
Ko Su-Ho answered with visible disappointment.
"Three to four. We are losing again to Physics. Not as badly as last year—but still losing."
Yu-ra nodded, then hesitated before asking:
"And 'one-o-seventh'?"
"They're still in it. Six to six. Four players left on each side."
Not far away, So-mi stared at her tablet, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
Left Flank – Forest Zone. Blue team's position.
Back in the forest, Min-jae carefully leaned out from cover, trying to line up one of the two remaining opponents in front of them.
And in that exact moment, luck abandoned him.
Han-bin, as always, got distracted.
Instead of watching her assigned direction, she turned—trying to see where Min-jae was looking. Her finger was already on the trigger, her marker following the movement of her body.
That was when Kim Seo-jun stepped out behind her.
Pop. Pop.
Two paintballs struck Han-bin squarely in the back.
She yelped in shock—and instinctively pulled the trigger.
Pop.
Blue paint exploded across Min-jae's back.
Friendly fire.
Han-bin screamed, dropping her marker and clapping both hands over her mouth through the mask.
"Oh no… rice cake… I'm so sorry!"
Min-jae turned to her, a tired smile visible even beneath his mask. He stepped closer and pulled her into an embrace.
"It's okay," he said softly. "I love you anyway, Han-bin. And honestly… we were surrounded no matter what."
She pressed herself against him, guilt flooding her expression.
"Oppa… I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to…"
Observation Tent.
At the command post, So-mi watched as two markers vanished from the forest map.
Her voice over the radio was steady—but drained.
"Min-jae's group is eliminated," she announced.
"Den… you two are the last ones standing."
She leaned back in her chair, exhaustion finally breaking through her composure.
Out on the field, the battle had narrowed to its final breath.
And far behind the front lines, near the flag—
Den and Mi-yeon were now truly alone.
Left Flank – Forest Zone. Red team's position.
Seo-jun stepped out from cover the moment he realized Min-jae and Han-bin were out.
He looked at Min-jae—really looked at him now—understanding just how close his team had come to breaking Physics' main formation. Seo-jun raised his right hand, propping the elbow with his left, thumb pointing upward. A small nod followed.
A gesture of respect.
Min-jae nodded back, one arm still wrapped around a shaken Han-bin.
Left Flank – Forest Zone. Den's position.
Den grimaced as So-mi's voice came through the radio.
"So… the evening just stopped being boring," he muttered to himself.
His eyes scanned the terrain rapidly.
"That trunk looks… cozy."
He sprinted in short bursts to a wrecked sedan nearby and flipped the trunk lid up just enough to crouch behind it, half-sitting, half-hidden by twisted metal.
At the control point, one of the referees leaned forward.
"Hey—look at that player. He opened the trunk. You're not allowed to move cover."
The second referee shrugged.
"Technically, he didn't move it. The car's still in place. There's a rule about climbing into vehicles, but he didn't. He just lifted the trunk lid."
He paused.
"Unusual… but not a violation."
Minutes stretched.
Den's legs began to burn as he held the position.
Then he heard it.
Boots. Cracking twigs. Low voices.
They were advancing toward the flag—carefully, confidently—expecting the final resistance to be there.
Two… maybe three, Den calculated, holding his breath.
He shifted silently, circling the car as the opponents passed on the opposite side.
Carefully, he peeked out.
They were spreading out.
And then—
From the flag's direction—
Mi-yeon screamed.
A sharp, panicked cry.
She began firing wildly toward the movement she'd spotted, staying tucked behind cover, only the barrel of her marker sticking out as she shot blindly, exactly as Den had told her.
The closest opponent smiled.
Easy prey. Victory was right there.
Observation Tent.
At the monitor station, several referees had gathered.
"Nice maneuver. He's in their rear now."
"Still doesn't matter. Four versus two. The odds are terrible."
"And one of them is Kim Seo-jun."
Yu-ra smiled faintly to herself.
Don't be so sure. This guy knows how to surprise.
Left Flank – Forest Zone. Den's position.
Den burst from cover.
Pop. Pop.
The first player froze, disbelief written across his face as he realized who'd tagged him.
Two steps forward.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
The second opponent turned—but too late. A paintball struck his chest.
The third player was already moving toward Mi-yeon.
She was still firing in the same direction, frantic, blind.
He crouched slightly and ran almost straight at her, grinning.
Then—
Click. Click. Click.
Mi-yeon's marker went dry.
Her finger squeezed the trigger again.
Nothing.
The player stopped a few steps away, lifting his marker calmly.
"You should've conserved your ammo."
Pop. Pop.
He felt two solid impacts in his back.
Den stepped out from behind cover.
"And you shouldn't underestimate how important her role was."
Den moved toward Mi-yeon's position.
She was still crouched behind cover, fear and relief colliding on her face when she saw him.
He smiled.
"You okay?"
She opened her mouth—ready to release everything she'd been holding inside—
And then—
Seo-jun emerged.
In one smooth motion, he fired.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Three shots. Clean hits.
Den's body jerked. Red paint splattered outward.
He dropped to his knees.
A sad smile crossed his face as he raised a hand with his marker, signaling he was out.
He looked at Mi-yeon and said quietly, almost apologetically—
"Almost worked…"
He meant it simply. He'd played well. That was all.
But to Mi-yeon—
Through adrenaline, terror, and shock—
It looked different.
In the instant she'd felt relief seeing him, she watched paint explode across his back. One drop of red paint splashed against her mask. He sank to his knees, suddenly weak.
His smile.
His words.
To her, Almost worked sounded like I'm sorry. Goodbye.
Fear vanished.
Something else took its place.
Rage. Desperation.
Before she even realized what she was doing, Mi-yeon ripped the marker from Den's hands, stood up, and screamed as she fired at the stunned Seo-jun.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Three hits to his chest.
Pop. Pop.
She fired again—at a player already eliminated.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
"Okay! Okay! I'm out! I'm out!" Seo-jun yelled, backing away. "Enough! Stop shooting!"
The round-end signal blared.
Mi-yeon stood there, chest heaving, tears streaming down her face.
She dropped the marker and ran to Den.
She fell to her knees behind him and wrapped her arms around his back, pressing herself against him tightly, shaking.
Observation Tent.
In the control center, silence fell.
Then—slowly—someone began to clap.
Others joined in.
The room filled with excited voices, disbelief, admiration.
On the monitor, near the flag, Den was still kneeling.
Mi-yeon clung to him from behind.
He didn't dare move.
Mi-yeon…?