Minhyuk Park

The next morning, we stumbled out looking slightly better than our, as I like to call them, fellow inmates.

"Time for our first class!" Steph was in a much better mood in comparison to last night. At least that's what we assumed our bracelets were vibrating meant. It was definitely a convenient way to know what the heck we were doing.

All of us looked around trying to find a reason to stay together. When we could find none, we looked at each other warily and followed various signs to class.

I had no idea what was going on in my first class, to the point that I wouldn't be surprised if they were speaking a different language. I had little to no plans on hacking the government but I jotted down notes just in case. Why am I in this stupid class? The teacher was a woman in flip flops and an excessive southern accent. She didn't seem to be much older than the rest of us, but I wasn't going to question it.

When class was over I met up with San and Becky by the tree from this morning. San's hair was in his face as his eyes were downcast. Had something happened?

"How were your classes? Mine was pretty much a ten-point plan on how to look useless." Becky's disgust was apparent. I figured she would have been in the same class as Steph since she was just as pretty, but obviously I wasn't the one making decisions here.

"I think I'm in the wrong shitty class. They were talking in a different language," I grumpily answered. Mother would have been amused. She was, after all, a well-known software developer who probably knew more about hacking than the teacher. As a result, I was left with all the computer-related competitions to my brother. I, in turn, got the art ones. Which was dumb because I could barely hold a pencil correctly.

"We were taught about threatening people," San shared, as his frown became more apparent as he tried to make himself look smaller. Did he not like being seen as scary? He would make a really good bodyguard though. I recalled his reactions up to this point, except for the fact that he probably doesn't know anything besides throwing punches.

"Where is Steph?" Looking around, Becky's face filled with worry.

We got our answer a few minutes later when Steph came running out of the building, with a blinding smile on her face. When she got closer we all could see why. They had given her bright ass makeup. Becky frowned, looking slightly jealous. I could see that San was frustrated that Steph was off having fun when the rest of us had boring classes. My bracelet buzzed twice, making me jump. Not wanting the duo to have another argument I grabbed Santiago's arm and started to drag him away.

"Come on," I grumbled, "We have Making Deals and Etiquette together. We probably don't want to be late." I grabbed his hand to pull him along, pushing down the pink wave rising to my face.

The teacher of this oh so fucking lovely class was an oh so fucking large man in his late 50s with gross greasy hair and an overall demeanor suggesting one stay far, far, fucking away. Being in the first row, I got a full view. Why am I here? I already know this shit. Build relationships and follow the money. What else is there to learn? The man walked towards the front of the room, slamming down a stack of materials, which included delicious looking food (packaged, of course), new clothes, rope, multitools, etc.

"I am Mr. Hender. There are generally three ways to make a deal. Watch it happen, take charge, or manipulate your way to the top. Today we are starting with taking charge. Here are some supplies, all marked with the letter corresponding with the letter on your seat." I looked down, finding a solid red F. If my Father saw this, I'd be out on the streets haha.

"I'm sure you all need something different, and your task requires you to get, ultimately. what you want." Santiago grinned, no doubt noticing that he was one of the bigger classmates, contrary to his actions earlier. I gazed at the first aid kit and the food, not knowing which to pick. I ran his speech over my head and realized he had made a fatal mistake. He never specified whether you had to take the corresponding object or not.

"You have 2 minutes. Begin when I say g-," without thinking, a boy in the back launched himself forward.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

His shirt was quickly soaked with blood. The red liquid seeped in a floral-like pattern as his eyes glazed over. Holy shit. Why does the teacher have a fucking gun? I thought back to the pile of documents my father had filled out for this camp. He signed my life away, didn't he? Which is fine. Minseok was better suited to inherit the position. It wasn't a secret that my father preferred him over me. Honestly, I would, too.

"Impatience causes problems." Mr. Hender slowly put the gun into his back pocket as we stared at the fallen body. What the fuck? Why the hell am I here? I'm going to fucking die. Maybe that was Father's plan all along.

"Go." I shot out of my seat, grasping for the first aid kit, food, and a roll of rope. I shoved the first two into my jacket pockets before anyone could see what had happened.

"Where's mine?" A familiar Ginger-haired boy questioned, the items in my pockets seeming to grow heavier. Mr. Hender glanced at me, before responding.

"The quickest will get the best end deal, but agreeing too fast will result in backing out too early." Without a blink, he handed over his gun to the boy with a faint clicking noise.

"All deals tend to freeze when one has a weapon." Shit. Fuck. Hell. Crap. I muttered out curses and slowly backed towards the nearest exit, grabbing a textbook on the way out. Because a goddamn textbook is going to save my stupid ass life. Clearly, I hadn't planned out very well.

"Hey, Min." I startled, turning to see Santiago cowering, awkwardly holding a small box taped to a slightly larger box. What happened to his bad-boy persona?

"Is that seriously a package of floss?"

"It came with some saran wrap?" Santiago was clearly embarrassed.

"HEY. YOU. THE ASIAN." The kid with the gun aimed directly at me, slowly making his way over. Which entitled brat is it now? I didn't recognize him so he probably wasn't anyone important to my father's company.

"Hand over the rope." I looked at the rope in my hands. Why the fuck does he want rope? His hands were shaking, from the weight of the gun or lack of experience, I didn't know. His parents should have prepared him better, surely they had the resources to.

"I'll pass." The words flew out without much thinking. Fuck you Minhyuk. You're gonna get yourself killed.

He pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

With a start, I realized that the gun was either on safety or out of rounds. Not wanting to take a chance, I shortened the distance between us.

And whacked him in the head.

With the fucking textbook.

I glanced at the cover. Thank god for Calculus.

"Quick thinking will result in smarter deals." The man watched, bemused as the student crumpled to the ground, cracking his head on the desk nearby.

"Holy shit!" A short girl shrieked as another girl pulled a knife on her.

"Hand over the water." The shorter girl quickly tried to back up, hitting the wall. Oh my god.

"HALT. Time's up." Mr. Hender's voice echoed, bringing us back to our senses. Immediately, the atmosphere changed as the students stared at the two limp bodies on the ground.

"Mr. Park. Provided that he is dead, I will send a report of the incident so that you may receive a tally." Santiago grabbed my trembling hand as a girl checked the boy's pulse before shaking her head. What did I just do?

"I-er-uh congratulations?" San's forehead was sweating and he seemed exceedingly nervous.

"I just fucking killed someone." The rest of the class went by in a blur as my head pounded. Better yet, the bodies on the floor kept everyone on their toes.

I fucking killed someone.

There's a dead body on the floor.

Because of me.

Shit.