And displayed was…
DATING SIM APP: SAVE THEM ALL!
Doyeon's eyes widened slightly at the screen, the glow reflecting faintly against his face. "Now…?" he muttered under his breath, the timing alone was already wrong— too sudden, too deliberate. Then the text shifted.
「Shin-Hye-sun (신혜선) — 1% chance of survival
Mood: Hatred, Pain, Anger, Infuriated, Livid, Seething, Enraged, Outraged.」
The air changed.
Not imagined. Not subtle.
It pressed against his skin, heavy and suffocating, like the room itself had started breathing with something else inside it. Doyeon didn't move, his grip tightening slightly around the phone as the sensation crawled up his spine. Two options appeared beneath the message.
[Run!]
[Confront her.]
He didn't press anything.
Didn't even blink.
Slowly— he lifted his head, eyes scanning the dim room again as the red lights flickered weakly, stretching the shadows across the walls like something was moving between them. "Dakje…" His voice came out low, tight with restrained tension. "What did you leave me with…?"
Then—
A sharp crackle split through the silence.
Doyeon's head snapped to the side, his gaze locking onto the source almost instantly. The kitchen.
Flames.
They hadn't been there before.
Now they were— spreading, alive, licking up the walls as if they had always belonged there. His breathing hitched slightly as his eyes adjusted, and that was when he saw it.
Someone.
Standing in front of the door.
Still.
Waiting.
A knife hung loosely in its hand, the blade catching the faint red light.
"Y-Y-YOU…!" The voice came out distorted, uneven, like multiple tones overlapping each other. "Are you in this game too!?"
The figure stepped forward.
Fully into view.
A woman.
Her head completely covered by a massive plush bear mask, its soft, harmless appearance clashing violently with the tension in the room. A dark shirt. Shorts. Bare legs illuminated by the growing firelight.
Doyeon instinctively stepped back, his hand gripping the edge of the desk behind him for support. "F-fuck… what the hell…" The words slipped out, his mind struggling to catch up with what he was seeing.
Then—
The flames surged.
They rose around her.
Wrapped her.
But she didn't react.
Didn't flinch.
Doyeon's instincts finally snapped into place. He turned and bolted toward the exit— but suddenly fire exploded up in front of the door, blocking it instantly, cutting off his escape like it had been waiting for him to try.
His steps faltered, forcing him back.
The phone in his hand vibrated once.
The screen shifted.
「Run! has chosen.」
"What—"
"Run?" The voice came again— closer this time.
Right behind him.
Before he could react—
She moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Her body slammed into his, knocking the air out of his lungs as they crashed to the floor. The impact rattled through his bones, the heat intensifying instantly as flames crept closer, wrapping the room in suffocating heat.
"O!"
Pain.
Sharp.
Immediate.
The fire reached his feet.
"OW!!" Doyeon's body jerked violently as the burning sensation tore through him, raw and overwhelming. "A— AGHHHHHHH!!" The scream ripped out of his throat before he could stop it, his hands instinctively pushing against her, trying to create space— any space.
But she didn't budge.
Her grip tightened.
Her voice broke.
"You all!" she screamed, the distortion worsening, warping her words into something almost inhuman. "You all are just giving us hope! Using us— playing with us!"
Doyeon's vision blurred for a split second from the pain, his breath coming out ragged as he stared up at her. "W-what the hell are you talking about?!" he shot back, anger forcing its way through the fear. "You sick fucking bitch!"
The words barely left him—
Before the knife came down.
Once.
Twice.
Again and Again.
Each strike drove the air out of his lungs, his body jolting with every impact as pain stacked over pain, heat and steel blending into something unbearable. His fingers twitched against the floor, grip weakening, his vision shaking as the fire climbed higher, the world around him collapsing into chaos.
And still—
She didn't stop.
The flames roared.
The room burned.
And Doyeon—
Couldn't even tell anymore—
Which was killing him faster.
Doyeon's thoughts didn't come all at once.
They dragged.
Slow. Heavy. Distorted— like they were being pulled through fire along with the rest of him.
(So this is what it feels like…)
The heat was everywhere. Crawling up his legs, biting into his skin, sinking deeper the longer it stayed. It didn't fade. It didn't numb. It only grew, sharp and merciless, like his body refused to shut down no matter how much it begged to.
(It hurts…)
Another stab.
He felt it.
Not just the impact— but the intrusion. Something entering where it shouldn't, again and again, each strike sending a violent jolt through his body that never fully settled before the next one came.
(Why… am I not dying yet…?)
His thoughts trembled, barely holding together as pain layered over pain, heat over steel, breath over broken breath. Time felt— too long, unbearably long… until even his own awareness started to feel like part of the torture.
(I've been getting stabbed… for how long… I wish I should just die right now…)
Then—
Ting!
**"
Doyeon staggered.
Air.
Cold.
Real.
His body jerked violently as if something had released him all at once, his knees almost giving out beneath him as the world snapped back into place.
The basement parking lot came back into focus slowly.
Dim lights hummed overhead, casting a dull glow across the concrete floor. The familiar shape of his car sat just a few steps away— unchanged, untouched, like nothing had happened at all.
Doyeon stood there, unmoving.
Then, almost mechanically, he raised his phone.
The screen was already on.
「Unfortunately… you died. So you're back in your last checkpoint.」
For a brief second, his eyes just stayed on it, unfocused— like he was reading the words but not understanding them, like his mind hadn't caught up to his body yet.
And then—
His stomach twisted.
Hard.
A sudden, violent churn deep in his gut, like something inside him had been stirred too roughly, too fast. His breath caught, shoulders tensing slightly as a wave of nausea surged upward without warning.
And with it—
It hit him.
Everything.
The fire. The knife. The voice. The heat crawling up his legs, the repeated stab tearing into him, the way it didn't stop— the way he didn't die fast enough.
"ghh!"
Doyeon lurched forward suddenly, one hand slamming against the cold concrete wall in the corner as his body folded in on itself. The phone nearly slipped from his grip as his stomach twisted violently, and then—
He threw up.
Hard.
His entire body convulsed with it, breath hitching and breaking as everything inside him came rushing out like his body was trying to purge something far deeper than just the nausea. It didn't stop after the first— he gagged again, and again, choking on empty air as his throat burned, his vision blurring from the force of it.
"khh— haa— Bga!" he groaned.
His fingers dug into the wall, nails scraping faintly against the surface as he struggled to steady himself, but his body wouldn't listen. It shook— uncontrollably, violently, like it still hadn't realized it was alive again.
Because it didn't feel like it.
His legs trembled beneath him, and for a horrifying second—
He felt it again.
The heat.
Not real— but real enough.
It crept up from his feet, phantom pain sinking into his nerves like something had been left behind, like the fire had carved itself into him and refused to leave. His breath hitched sharply, his body flinching as if expecting flames to follow.
"ah…!"
His free hand shot down to his side instinctively— Nothing.
No wound.
No blood.
But he could feel it.
The knife.
Still there.
Still going in.
Again.
Again—
Doyeon's breathing broke apart as he staggered slightly, his forehead dropping against the wall as his shoulders rose and fell unevenly. A quiet, strained sound slipped out of him, somewhere between a breath and a suppressed cry.
"Fuck…"
The word came out weak.
Shaking.
A tear slipped down before he even realized it had formed, tracing silently along his cheek as his grip tightened against the concrete. His chest heaved, each inhale uneven, like his body didn't trust the air anymore— like it expected pain to come with it.
"I—"
His voice cracked.
Didn't finish.
For a moment, he just stayed there— half-collapsed against the wall, trembling, trying to convince himself that it was over.
That it had ended.
But his body didn't believe it.
Because somewhere deep in his nerves—
The fire was still burning.
And the knife—
Still hadn't stopped.
.
.
In short. He was traumatized. But he's Doyeon, the goat! So!!!! You gotta wait for the next chapter tomorrow bleeeeee kwhsshah IMAGINE WAITING LMAO LOLOL