It's another blind choice they have to make, as Wooyoung won't simply give them time to rest. Still soaked and suffocated, the two trapped's fates fell into the hands of their colleagues, who don't even know which way their choices will bring them. A wrong choice could mean subjecting misery to them, yet they cannot tell whether the other choice would be any better. Just like 'round one', as their captors had put it, choice two was to drown them by filling in water into the box. Choice one? They have no idea. Maybe it's better to remain in oblivion of what the other choice could have been, but if they know and they were forced to choose between two methods of torture, would they be able to?

"You know how the game works, right? So round two: pick, one or two? Redhead, it's your turn," he says cheerily in a singsong voice.

There is a silence then followed by a muffled reply, to which Wooyoung looks up to him in annoyance. As soon as his eyes land on the lower part of the redhead's face, he lets out a loud 'ah!' before snapping his fingers. He chuckles before bowing 45 degrees, but only as an act of mockery rather than respect.

"I do apologize for I have forgotten what I did to both of you." He straightens up his body. A muted scream arises from Hongjoong's throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he desperately tries to get his point across with no clear voice. Amused, Wooyoung continues talking, "Since both of you won't shut up with your questions, I just feel the need to do this. I hope you don't mind." He pouts then puts a finger to his chin, seemingly deep in thought. "I should've done this sooner; it's better like this."

They don't reply. They can't.

Blood trickles down their chins and onto their clothes and saliva drips from the corner of their mouths, but with their hands tied, they can only leave them be. It is as if they have lost the ability to feel pain because they have been exposed to agonizing pain repeatedly. Their brains fail to register the physical pain Wooyoung provided them, as if their pain threshold is nonexistent. The time between round one and round two provides a gap for Wooyoung to whisper something into San's ear, that left the latter leaving the room in a hurry. The silver-haired man appeared again in a matter of minutes, but what they had to face after he came back made them wish they were the ones who were trapped in the box instead of being hung up against the wall. They wouldn't keep quiet, and now Wooyoung had found a way to shut their mouths, literally.

He had sewn their lips together.

A normal thread, a needle and San to hold their bodies steady as he worked his hands across their lips was all he needed to make sure they won't have any words leaving their mouths again.

Jongho and Yeosang only managed to look through the bars, faces drenched with terror as Wooyoung held a hand against Hongjoong and Mingi's necks. They felt like they were bewitched as their eyes were transfixed on the gory procedure; he had used his other hand to puncture the needle with a thread through their cracked lips with ease. Hongjoong and Mingi had wanted to shout and scream, but opening their mouths would mean another rough tug on the needle, cascading blood down their chins. They were surprised that they had managed to stay conscious through the whole ordeal, clenching and unclenching their fists.

Wooyoung's face remained calm, barely showing any emotions as he sewed their lips, criss-crossing the thread to make sure their lips were sealed. It wasn't perfect work, in fact it was sloppy and dirty. When he was done he went to one corner of the room to wash his hands at the sink while grumbling how the captives are always making things hard for them. But at least his strategy worked; they haven't let out any intelligible words that could annoy him, and he loves that.

"Don't worry, you can still make a choice. Move your right leg for one and move your left for two," Wooyoung grins. "I just made it easy for you. Right," he points to his right leg, then puts up one finger, "for one, and left," he points to his own left leg next, then puts up another finger, "for two. You don't even have to open your mouths to say anything. Ah," he chuckles, "not that you can anyway."

San comes over wordlessly to clean the blood near their mouths, obediently soaking up the crimson liquid with a cloth. Mingi turns his face away in a feeble attempt at defiance, but the silver-haired man remains patient in wiping the blood away. His hands are gentle as he holds his chin steadily so that he can dab the cloth away on his lips. Mingi refuses to believe what he's seeing, but in San's eyes he spots genuine concern; as if the latter is a victim too, and is only manipulated by Wooyoung to assist him in his crazy game. Mingi tries to communicate with San through his eyes, in hopes that maybe he could be the one to help them escape. Maybe, just maybe, San would snap out of his own world and be their rescuer. San meets his eyes again, but this time Mingi's blood runs cold as San's eyes change.

They're empty; San is only a shell of a human that has no connection to reality. Detached... was how Wooyoung had described him, so his condition was probably the only part where Wooyoung wasn't lying about.

Hongjoong cannot help but think as San goes over to him next, wiping the blood away, just exactly what happened to him some time ago?

"The only escape is through... death," San suddenly mutters under his breath, but Hongjoong and Mingi hear the sentence clearly. Strangely, the way he muttered those words made it as if it wasn't directed at them, but as if he was reminding himself. "Death, death, death..." he repeats in a monotonous voice. He jumps off the stairs when he's done with the cleaning, and Wooyoung whips his head around to face them again.

"Choose," he simply says.

Hongjoong stares at him, then his right leg twitches slightly. One. Rather than a choice, it seems more of a reflex. A desperate attempt to prolong their own lives, or maybe he has lost his control over his own nervous system. Instinctively their eyes travel to the boxes, their stares colliding with Jongho and Yeosang's, anticipating with dread on what the choice would bring. If the psychopath would go as far as sewing their lips together to keep them quiet, they could not begin to imagine what else he had in store for them.

They look at the mouth of the pipes; they see nothing. There is a silent heave of relief from the captives as they realize; choice one must have meant that they are safe for now. Then they see their captors' faces before they each come to a bad conclusion. Wooyoung's lips are tugged upwards at the corners, and even San, who rarely smiles, is beaming wide. Wooyoung takes out Mingi's glasses from his pockets before carelessly hooking it to Mingi's ears, allowing him to finally see the view in front of him clearly.

Black skittering masses spill from the pipes like water from a broken dam, quickly filling in the box from the floor to the walls. Jongho and Yeosang stare blankly at the new intruders of their confinement, unable to register the severity of their own situation. They're not scared of insects, and despite the situation; they feel that this is much better than being drowned slowly - or so they thought. The insects climb up their legs, up to their torso and as he takes a closer look at the insects, understanding comes over Jongho - they're stupid, stupid to think that their captors would only scare them with some harmless insects.

"Bullet ants," Wooyoung says, clasping his hands together. He sighs, "Getting stung by them hurts like a motherfucker you wish you would die instantly." He continues explaining even without being asked, taking contentment from their helpless states. "Their stings are currently the highest on the sting pain index, and ah, they also release a neurotoxin. They give burning and throbbing systemic-" he eyes them, "-which means that your whole body will be affected. It's no fun only talking about them, so you can see them for yourselves."

As if proving his point, the bullet ants start attacking; baring their mandibles and stinging them constantly. Yeosang is the first to give a reaction; he shouts like a madman, swatting his hands on his body in an attempt to rid himself of the ants, but the agonizing pain makes him stop midway. He has turned into a crazy, shaking and sweating mass. His cursings turn into pathetic screams, begging for someone to save him. Jongho has collapsed again to the floor, looking like he is experiencing an intense seizure. The ants envelope them like a blanket on a cold night, but instead of protection they are being abused by excruciating pain. Patches of ants form on their necks, attacking the soft flesh like they are the last meal on earth.

'Stop' is what both Hongjoong and Mingi want to spit out as they thrash about, seemingly sharing the same feeling as the two in the box. Their breaths and voices get stuck in their throat. Their tears wet their cheeks and their mouths, the droplets treading along the string that bound their lips together. They sob quietly, for making noise would mean another page of torture for all of them.

Wooyoung and San smile when they see the two are giving the exact reaction they want to see; they sit while observing the show. The former breathes in and out slowly, counting the seconds, then minutes ticking by. Two minutes are enough to make them suffer and he's starting to get bored from the same scene playing over and over again. Screaming, shaking, crying, swatting away, running around, ramming their bodies against the box, bumping their heads against the walls and repeating them.

He stifles a yawn before nudging San, "It's starting to get boring, don't you think?"

San nods without a smile, "I'm bored."

He rubs his hands, "Then let's go for round three." He puts his elbow on top of the chair's backside as he turns to his artworks behind before saying, "For the third round I want both of you to pick a choice. One or two? Come on," he drops his shoulder slightly, as if he's disappointed. "But if both of you make different choices, your friends will have to suffer twice. Alright?"

Mingi and Hongjoong look at each other, trying to search the answer in both of their eyes. It's safe to say that they currently have no idea what the other is thinking, and they are only following their guts. A bone-chilling shout comes from Jongho and simultaneously, they lift up their legs. There is a beat of nervousness, and they look down to their legs. A look of satisfaction gets plastered on Wooyoung's face, and San claps his hands in approval.

They both lifted up their left legs, signalling that their chosen method is two. Fear runs over them again, reminding them that they are in a never-ending cycle of the torturous game. Jongho and Yeosang are still being devoured by the insects, and try as they might, they simply can't look away. Their eyes focus on the pipes, waiting for whatever to come out. San has disappeared behind the curtain, doing his job while Wooyoung slumps lazily against the chair.

Water flows again into the enclosure, rapidly filling in and soaking their figures. As soon as their bare skins touch the water, they withdraw their limbs like the water is fire, and that is definitely what it feels like. Still afflicted by the bullet ants, Jongho and Yeosang flail around in the water, sending violent splashes against the walls. The ants drift away with the water crests. Their suffering has not ended yet, as the aftermath of the ants' stinging remain in their system, sending them into bouts of consciousness and non-consciousness. The water, although giving help by washing away the insects from their bodies, inflict a new kind of pain to them.

Their skins redden from the contact, feeling like they are being stripped off layer by layer. Searing pain tears through their whole body, bringing the previous torture to a whole new level. The liquid around them touches their fresh open wounds, sending their brains into overdrive. Their mouths only open and close soundlessly like fish out of water, summoning their last bit of will to persevere with their lives. They keep their eyes shut, blindly feeling around the enclosure. They are whisked away, nearing the top as they start to lose their footing on solid ground.

Not again, please, is what they wish in their hearts.

"Acid," Wooyoung breathes, gleeful. "Formic acid. Weak acid, but it does the work."

Their skins start to peel, as Hongjoong and Mingi observe, making the tides around them a mixture of water, ants, blood and skin. The water has risen to two-thirds of the plastic, and the sound of a lever being pulled up with effort fills the room before water stops flowing in.

Wooyoung stands up, goes over to the box and knocks his knuckles on the plastic, where Jongho and Yeosang's heads are bobbing up and down in the water like a buoy in the middle of a vast sea. Their sea has turned into a dirty viscous liquid of the products of their misery. He thumps on the plastic, chanting their names, laughing and asking them to stop pretending to be dead. The drain appears at the bottom again, courtesy of San behind the scene.

The water recedes, dumping Jongho and Yeosang on the ground like rag dolls, their limbs broken and twitching. The dead ants form traces around the victims' bodies like they're a sacrificial form. Their tears drop to the floor but the amount cannot equal to the agony that's coursing through their nerves. They feel like their limbs are being chopped off and roasted over an open fire repeatedly while their pain receptors are in full blast to register every single transmission.

San joins Wooyoung, putting his arm on the latter's shoulder, leaning against him. He observes the two inside, then crouches to meet their eyes. He looks up to Wooyoung towering over him, awaiting further instructions from him.

Wooyoung pats San's head, smoothing down his hair and looking at him with a hint of despair, but returning to his expressionless face as he observes the two struggling to hold on to their lives. Their bodies jerk in short bursts before they lay still, the extreme pain shutting down their awareness - they are still breathing, he notes - not dead, but not that much alive either.

"Why don't you go and rest? You must be tired." As San blinks without saying anything, he tries again, gentler, "You don't have to worry about me, I can deal with them on my own."

After getting the green light from him, he scuttles to the door, looks back once to Wooyoung, who nods, urging him to quickly leave. He steps out of the room, leaving Wooyoung alone with the captives. Wooyoung looks around, calculating his next move; Yeosang and Jongho have been knocked out, while Hongjoong and Mingi have shut their eyes, refusing to open them ever since the water mixed with acid started rushing into the enclosure.

He goes to the back of the trap, unlocking the door, but not before making sure that the ants have all died. When he notices no movement, both from the two humans and the ants inside, he slots the key into the heavy-duty padlock and swings the door open first to Yeosang's confinement. He nudges him with a foot, making sure that they are indeed unconscious. He drags him out by one foot, putting him to rest at the middle of the room on the floor. Then he does the same with Jongho; the water leaves wet marks on the cement and finally stops as he arranges them side by side.

He kneels beside them, trailing a finger on their faces while muttering, "So beautiful, but so tragic." The huge amount of water makes the acid diluted, so it's not enough to eat through all the layers of their skin. However, the damage is substantial as the superficial part of their skin has almost all peeled off, leaving them red and burning. The equation of the bullet ants' stings and the mild acid brushed against their wounds had resulted in one of the worst pains they could have imagined.

Of course he won't kill them; that's not the point of the game. The point of the game is to make them suffer horribly, make sure that they feel every single stimulus he gives them. A sense of triumph floods over him, knowing that he is closer to what he is reaching for.

He looks over to the two against the wall. Mingi and Hongjoong's hands have been drained of colour and they have almost completely lost their senses at their digits. They have opened their eyes, staring at him but rather than accusing looks their eyes glaze over, their pupils trembling, silently asking to be let go. He steps on the ladder before he produces a small penknife from his pockets.

A silent muffled scream comes from Mingi as he bares the blade against Mingi's wrists, but he's not going for his skin. He slashes the knife across the ropes that bound his wrists, dropping him to the floor. He observes him as he sidesteps him and releases Hongjoong too. Then he puts away the penknife, and crouches in front of the two left mum. They flinch when he puts up a finger to point upwards, then to the two unconscious, before pointing last to the door.

Wooyoung does not pronounce the next word verbally, as he only forms the shape with his mouth and does not let any sound comes out. Still, Mingi and Hongjoong understand clearly what he's trying to deliver.

"Run."