Basent Level 3 had a studio as big as Eden.
It seed absurd they’d need a space this huge just for a quiz show, but as always with this project, expecting anything normal was a mistake. They called it a quiz show, but it could easily be sothing completely different.
“Change into your uniforms and co out.”
One of the staff—mask on, a tag pinned to his chest reading Staff—shouted this as he pointed them toward the dressing room.
Inside the makeshift dressing room, divided by black partitions, hung white one-piece work uniforms. On the sleeves, big numbers were printed.
Jiwon picked up the one marked with a 1. Wearing nothing but a bathrobe, he stepped into it from the legs up. After pulling on the pants and shrugging off the robe, he put the rest on. The others, unlike Jiwon, stripped completely naked, slipping into their uniforms like they were in a public bathhouse.
Seven bulky n, each with their chests wrapped thick in bandages, looked ridiculous in a way.
“Don’t your nipples itch?”
Kim Yunho scowled, scratching roughly at his bandaged chest.
“Mine itch too, hyung!”
Jeong Hamin went at his chest with both hands.
Worried their wounds might get worse, Jiwon said sothing, but they only muttered back, “If I don’t scratch, I’ll go crazy.”
Except for those two, Jiwon included, no one else felt anything. Just a tightness from the bandages pressing down on the chest—no itch, no sting.
“But are we really allowed to take these off tomorrow?”
Jeong Hamin doubted what the nurse had said. He grumbled that it made no sense. He’d had tattoos retouched before, and never once had there been zero aftercare instructions.
“Of course there wouldn’t be. It was just pignt added.”
Han Seoho answered offhandedly.
“Just pignt?”
Lee Gangjun cut in.
“I heard it was re-inked.”
“Nope. Just pignt. Think about it—who heals from a tattoo in a day? I asked the nurse myself. They said it’s just pignt added, but instead of a brush they used a newly developed tool, so it stains deeper than henna. No side effects, no scabbing. They just put ointnt on and wrapped it, just in case.”
Seoho recited the details as if he were reading lines.
“Really? Then that’s a relief. The nurse kept warning about anesthesia and risks, so I figured it was a tattoo.”
Lee Gangjun sighed as he hung his robe on the rack.
It was news to Jiwon too, but since it ca from Seoho—one of the project’s own—it sounded credible. Better that it was nothing serious than risk infection in their nipples, and besides, the organizers wouldn’t damage their “products.” n who would go so far as to mutilate their chests for entertainnt surely knew how to keep them intact.
“Wow. What the fuck is this? Perverted freaks. They’re insane.”
Jeong Hamin yanked up the front of his pants. His entire groin, cock included, was fully exposed. Where the zipper should’ve been was just an open hole.
“Hey, hey—the ass is open too.”
Standing next to him, Lee Gangjun slipped a hand between Hamin’s buttocks.
“Your ass is squishy.”
He kneaded Hamin’s rear.
“Aing, why are you doing this to ee.”
Hamin whined in a ridiculous voice.
Everyone cracked up. One after another they showed off their crotches and butts like it was hilarious.
Fuck. If things were normal here, they’d die of it.
Forcing a smile, Jiwon buttoned his uniform all the way to the top.
“Ta-da. Bet none of you noticed this.”
Yunho puffed out his chest. He ripped open the breast pockets sewn onto the uniform. Underneath, the bandages on his chest were visible—exact holes cut so only the nipples would show, though the bandages hid them. The lengths they went to were absurd.
“Hey, newbie. Since you’re new, you should introduce yourself.”
Park Geonwoo said this to the rookie standing awkwardly apart, like a sack of rice dumped in the corner.
He looked like the rest of them, but unlike Lee Jihoon, he had no resemblance. The new guy’s eyes went wide.
“Yeah, introduction’s basic courtesy. How old are you?”
Yunho asked.
“Twenty-three.”
“Sa age as Seoho. You two can be the youngest line.”
Lee Gangjun glanced between Seoho and the newcor.
“Eh, I’m the real youngest. I was born in December.”
Seoho made sure to emphasize it.
“Fine, you can be the baby.”
Geonwoo teased generously, and Seoho stuck out his lip.
“What’s your na?”
“Yoo Junghoon.”
The new Sailor answered Hamin’s question.
Yoo Junghoon. Twenty-three.
Is that a bruise on his face?
Hard to tell with the heavy makeup, but faint discoloration sat near his cheekbone. Could be a bruise, could be a mark.
“That one actually sounds like a real na.”
Geonwoo’s remark made Gangjun and Hamin snicker, pointing at each other.
“Contestants! If you’re dressed, move out now.”
The staff called from outside the dressing room.
The seven filed out, joking as they went.
At one end of the studio—lit with caras and lamps—a man in a bright yellow suit was mic-testing. He wore a mask the sa color, and his tone and projection were professional, like a TV announcer.
Thanks to him, the whole thing really felt like a quiz show. Even Jiwon, usually jaded, felt a spark of excitent.
But where exactly are we supposed to do this quiz?
There were no booths or seats like on normal quiz shows. The host’s platform was tiny, too small for all of them to stand on.
“Don’t tell we’re going in one by one to answer. Fuck, that’d be awful.”
Geonwoo grumbled, clearly thinking the sa thing Jiwon was.
“Shit, I get cara fright.”
Yunho’s face twisted.
“You want to be an actor but you’ve got cara fright?”
Geonwoo mocked.
“Easy for you to say. Like I want to have it?”
Yunho muttered back.
The rest were just as worried. Nobody knew what kind of questions were coming, but more importantly, this was still a ga. There’d be winners and losers. Losers would face a Penalty.
Even Seoho—the spy for managent—was biting his nails, looking nervous.
Faker, Jiwon thought bitterly.
At the staff’s direction, the seven remained outside cara range. From there, the quiz show began.
“Hello, everyone! Welco to Paradise Quiz Show!”
The host’s cheerful voice kicked things off.
“This quiz show is a hybrid of board ga and quiz show—the so-called Board Quiz Show!”
Pick one thing. Just one fucking thing.
Jiwon tried not to grimace. Luckily, the others didn’t look thrilled either.
“You’ve all been given the rules ahead of ti, so I’ll skip the explanation.”
Given what?
Everyone looked confused, glancing at each other.
“Did you get anything?”
Geonwoo whispered to Jiwon.
“No. You, Yunho?”
Yunho shook his head.
No one else had gotten anything either. Seoho only shrugged.
That bastard definitely knows sothing but pretends not to. Smug fuck. Jiwon swallowed his anger.
“Now, it’s ti to choose your ga piece.”
Drums rolled on the speakers, building tension.
“You’ve all received your hints, right?”
For the first ti, the host looked at the Sailors.
The mont he said hint, the picture Jiwon had seen in the Counseling Room flashed in his mind.
The fisherman.
He’d expected so hidden aning, but it turned out to be just a type of ga piece. What a joke. He cursed himself for overthinking it.
A staffer approached. “This way.”
Jiwon followed and stood a little apart from the host, under the caras and lights.
“Alright, let’s see Number 1! What is it?”
As the host spoke, a staffer handed Jiwon a vest loaded with pockets, the kind fishern wore. A big na tag was fixed to the chest: Fisherman.
Following instructions, Jiwon put it on.
“The Fisherman will be our first piece!” the host announced loudly.
“From now on, Number 1 will be called Fisherman. Understood?”
Jiwon hesitated whether to reply.
“Good. You all understand.”
The host answered his own question.
Jiwon assud it was scripted and let it go.
A staffer gestured frantically for him to step out of fra. As Jiwon walked away, Yunho moved in to take his place.
“Now, let’s check Number 2!” the host continued.
Yunho received a cheap but cute pink crown with fake jewels and a tag that read Queen. Nervous as he’d been, Yunho smiled brightly once he put it on.
“Oh! The Queen appears. A good start.”
I started first, but I get stuck as the Fisherman? Jiwon grumbled inside.
One by one, the others were revealed.
Sailor 3, Lee Gangjun, got a headscarf and beca Janitor.
The newcor, Yoo Junghoon—now Sailor 4, Jihoon’s replacent—was given plastic slippers and a tag that read Unemployed.
Sailor 5, Han Seoho, donned a childish yellow cap like a preschooler’s, with a tag that said 5 years old, Gaenari Class.
Sailor 6, Jeong Hamin, got a cane and beca Old Man Living Alone.
Fisherman, Queen, Janitor, Unemployed, Preschooler, Old Man Living Alone.
n and won? Occupations? No...
There was no coherent the, no consistency among the roles—other than them being human.
“And finally, Number 7! Oh, is that a clown?”
The staff brought out a curly red wig, bright as orange, with a red nose—straight out of a hamburger chain’s mascot. Park Geonwoo put them on and grinned wide like a clown, making the others laugh.
Now all seven Sailors had beco board ga pieces.
“Pieces, please move to the starting point. Today’s quiz show has various prizes and bonuses prepared for the winners. And the highlight—mini-gas—will be revealed as the ga progresses!”
As the host spoke, the Sailors walked to a sign that read Start. It was set in the far corner opposite the entrance. Around the studio, more signs had appeared: Key of Fortune, Underground Prison, Spaceship, Jackpot Chance, Mini-Ga. The nas reminded Jiwon of classic board gas from childhood.
“Make way for the Queen!”
Yunho, full of mischief, pushed between Geonwoo and Jiwon.
“Clown, make the Queen laugh.”
“You little shit.”
“Oho, insolent! Fisherman, have you caught tuna?”
“If I had a hook, I’d sew your mouth shut.”
Jiwon mid digging in his pocket, mocking him. Yunho chuckled.
“Damn, you’ve gotten funny.” He gave Jiwon a thumbs up.
“Alright! Shall we begin the main ga?”
With all seven gathered at Start, the host’s voice bubbled with energy.
Naturally, Jiwon assud they were both the board pieces and the contestants.
“Contestant Number 1! Roll the dice!”
Dice? Where the fuck are those?
Being Number 1, Jiwon ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) looked around for dice.
Then—
“Six! It’s a six! A great start!”
Jiwon realized instantly. They weren’t the contestants. A huge screen lit up, showing two dice: 2 and 4. Together, six.
A sign marked with 6 appeared a short distance from Start. Instead of a printed board, they were using movable signs.
Jiwon stood still, baffled, until a staffer off-cara waved him forward.
Flustered only for a second, Jiwon accepted it as the obvious reality.
Figures. This is just their level.
He sneered inside.
The Sailors weren’t contestants. They were just pieces. The real contestants were guests, watching through the CCTV.
Jiwon glared at the cara as he walked toward the sign marked 6.
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