𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈. the salesman 

Hae-un waited patiently outside of the manager's office, the fluorescent lights flickering above her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Hae-un knew it wouldn't end up good. Her hand was hovering over the door handle, hesitant to enter. She took a deep breath, and then pushed the door open.

There he was, Mr. Park. He was scrolling through a stack of papers and sipping his coffee. He looked up when he saw Hae-un enter. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Mr. Park put the stack of papers down and gestured towards the seat in front of him. "Sit, please." Hae-un nervously sat down. Fuck, she was going to get fired. She didn't like the way he was looking at her—like he'd already made up his mind about what he was going to say.

"Do you know why you're here, Shin Hae-un?" Mr. Park asked, his tone clipped and impatient.

She nodded hesitantly. "I was late today. I'm really sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

Mr. Park sighed, shaking his head. "Late again. This is the fifth time this month, Shin. Do you know how many employees I have working under me? Do you know how difficult it is to manage a store like this when people can't even show up on time?"

Hae-un bit her lower lip. "Again, I'm really sorry sir. My sister, Ga-young is sick, I have to stay with her at the hospital and I-"

"Stop with the excuses!" Mr. Park interrupted. "Everyone has problems, Ms. Shin. I have to work for my 3 daughters too! And yet my wife still yells at me for not coming home and being busy with work! But I never use that as an excuse to be late for work, right?"

Hae-un shook her head and pursed her lips. "No sir, I'm really sorry."

Mr. Park leaned forward, his voice sharp. "You were hired to do a job. To be here on time, to follow the schedule, and to work hard. And yet, time and time again, you've proven that you can 't even handle something as simple as showing up when you're supposed to."

Her stomach dropped. "Please, Mr. Park," she pleaded, leaning forward slightly. "This job... It's my main income. I'm working three jobs right now, and this one is the most important. I need it to pay for my sister's medical bills. Without it, I don't know how I'll-"

Mr. Park stood up, walking around the desk to stand in front of her. "I'm sorry, Shin," he said, though his voice lacked any real warmth. "But this is your last day. I can't keep you on."

The words hit her like a physical blow. She stared at him, her mind racing. "You're firing me?"

"Yes," he said simply, crossing his arms. "You can finish today's shift, but after that, we'll process your final paycheck."

Hae-un felt the tears spill over, but she quickly wiped them away, refusing to let Mr. Park see her break. She stood up, her legs trembling beneath her. "Thank you for the opportunity," she said, bowing deeply, her voice strained.

Mr. Park gave a curt nod. "I wish you the best of luck, Shin."

She turned and walked out of the office, the door clicking shut behind her. The sounds of the bustling store hit her like a wave—customers chatting, cash registers beeping. Everything felt distant, as though she were underwater.

Hae-un looked around for Gi-hun, the customer that helped her. She looked through every aisle, but she couldn't find him. He probably left, Hae-un thought to herself.

She thought of Ga-young, lying in that hospital bed, her small face pale and tired. How was she going to pay for the treatments now?

Taking a shaky breath, she wiped her eyes and straightened her vest. She still had the rest of her shift to finish, and she wasn't about to let herself crumble in the middle of the store.

Hae-un was sitting at the subway all alone. her oversized blue jacket pulled tightly around her as she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. Her jeans were worn at the knees, and her sneakers scuffed from overuse. The day had been a disaster, and the weight of it all pressed down on her shoulders.

Her thoughts were consumed with worry—about Ga-young, about how she was going to pay the hospital bills, about what she was going to do without her main job. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of her jacket sleeve.

"Excuse me ma'am"

Hae-un turned around and saw a really handsome man sit next to her. He was holding a briefcase and was wearing a neat suit with a black tie.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said smoothly, his voice calm and measured.

Hae-un straightened, her guard immediately up, "Uh, hi there. I didn't expect anyone to talk to me today"

The man smiled, and then proceeded to pull out his briefcase. "Would you like to play a game with me?"

"What game, sir?" Hae-un asked as the man proceeded to open his briefcase. Hae-un glanced at the open briefcase, and her breath hitched. Inside were two folded squares of paper—one red, one blue. Next to them was a thick stack of neatly bound bills. The crisp edges of the money practically gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

"Are you familiar with the game ddakji?" the man asked as he picked both of the squares up. Hae-un nodded because she played this game a lot when she was a child.

"If you play a few rounds with me, I'll give you 100,000 won if you win each round" the salesman replied smoothly.

Hae-un's eyes darted back to the briefcase, the stack of cash seemingly larger than before. Her heart raced at the thought of all that money. Just one win could mean food for the week, maybe even part of Ga-young's medication costs.

"And if I lose?" she asked warily, tearing her gaze away from the cash to look at him.

The man's smile didn't falter. "If you lose, you will pay me 100,000 won."

Her stomach sank. She shook her head. "I don't have that kind of money. I don't even have 10,000 won right now."

The man chuckled, as if he'd expected her response. "Then we'll make it fair," he said smoothly. "If I win, you don't pay me with money. Instead..." He paused for dramatic effect, his smile turning into a sly grin. "I'll slap you."

Hae-un blinked, unsure if she'd heard him correctly. "What?"

"If I win," he repeated, "I'll slap you. That's the price you pay."

She stared at the ddakji in his hands, her mind racing. This had to be a joke. A man in a suit, sitting at a subway station, offering her cash to play a children's game? It sounded absurd. But the money.. . 100,000 won per win. It could mean everything.

Hae-un's fists clenched. Her mind screamed at her to walk away, to ignore this strange man and his ridiculous offer. But then she thought of Ga-young, lying in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines they could barely afford.

Her gaze flicked to the money again. Just one win. That's all it would take.

She reached out slowly, taking the blue ddakji from his hand. "Fine," she said, her voice steady. "I'll play."

The man's smirk widened as he set the briefcase aside and placed the red ddakji on the ground in front of them. "Good choice."

Hae-un knelt on the cold subway platform floor, gripping the blue ddakji tightly. Her palms were sweaty, and her heart pounded in her chest.

The man leaned back slightly, watching her with that same unsettling smile. "You know the rules. You flip the red ddakji, you win. If you don't..." He gave her a pointed look.

She took a deep breath, raising the blue ddakji above her head. Her muscles tensed as she brought it down with force, slamming it against the red one.

The red ddakji didn't move.

The man clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "Too bad," he said, reaching out toward her.

Before she could react, his hand cracked against her cheek. The sting was sharp and immediate, and her head snapped to the side. She gasped, clutching her face, tears springing to her eyes—not from pain, but from humiliation.

"Your turn again," he said, his tone light, as if nothing had happened.

Hae-un glared at him, her cheek burning. She wanted to scream, to walk away, to tell him to shove his ddakji and his stupid game. But the money...

She glared at the man, who was sitting back with a casual chuckle, as if slapping someone in the face was just part of his everyday routine. The red ddakji still lay on the ground, taunting her with its unflipped edges.

"Ready for another round?" the salesman asked smoothly, picking up the red ddakji and placing it neatly on the ground again. "Remember, every round you win gets you 100,000 won."

Hae-un's fists clenched as she stared at him, trying to ignore the faint ringing in her ear from the slap. The thought of walking away crossed her mind, but then Ga-young's face flashed in her memory. Her little sister, so frail , her weaker smile each day as the hospital bills piled higher. This wasn't about her pride anymore.

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth, adjusting her grip on the blue ddakji. "Let's go again."

The man chuckled, clearly amused by her determination. "That's the spirit," he said, gesturing for her to take her shot.

Hae-un knelt again, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She focused on the red ddakji, remembering the angles and techniques she'd seen in childhood. This wasn't just a game—it was survival. She raised the blue ddakji high and slammed it down with all her strength.

Smack!

The blue ddakji hit the ground, and for a moment, the red one teetered. Her heart leaped as it flipped once before settling flat on the ground again.

"No!" she groaned, frustration boiling over.

The man clucked his tongue again, shaking his head. "So close, yet so far," he said, reaching toward her.

This time, she braced herself, but the slap still sent her head whipping to the side. The sting was worse than before, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Hae-un took another deep breath, ignoring the throbbing in her cheek. This time, she adjusted her grip on the ddakji, angling it slightly. She visualized the motion in her mind, the way the air would push against the paper as it struck .

With a sharp exhale, she swung the blue ddakji down.

Smack!

The red ddakji flipped into the air and landed on its other side.

"Yes!" she shouted, her voice ringing through the empty subway platform.

The man raised his eyebrows, looking mildly impressed. "Well done," he said, reaching into his briefcase. He pulled out a crisp 100,000 won bill and handed it to her. "Your first win."

Hae-un stared at the money in disbelief as she took it, the weight of the bill feeling heavier than it should. This was more than she'd earned in hours of grueling work.

"Want to keep going?" the man asked, placing the red ddakji back on the ground. "Or are you ready to walk away with just that?"

Want to keep going?" the man asked, placing the red ddakji back on the ground. "Or are you ready to walk away with just that?"

She hesitated, the bill trembling in her hand. The smart thing to do would be to stop now, to leave with her dignity and her winnings intact. But then she thought about the hospital bills, about the late-night meals she'd skipped , about the rent she was already behind on.

"I'll play again," she said firmly, gripping the blue ddakji.

The man chuckled, as if he'd expected no less. "Very well."

The next few rounds were a blur of adrenaline and humiliation. She won another round, earning another 100,000 won, but then lost twice in a row, each slap harder than the last. By the time she stood up to stretch her legs, her cheeks were swollen and red, her head pounding.

"Not bad," the man remarked, closing his briefcase. "You've got guts, I'll give you that."

Hae-un glared at him, clutching the two bills in her hand. "What is this, really?" she demanded, her voice trembling. "Why are you doing this?"

The man's smile didn't fail, but there was something colder in his eyes now. "Let's just say I'm looking for people like you."

"People like me?" she echoed, confused.

"People who know what it means to be desperate," he said, his tone quieter now. "People who are willing to do whatever it takes to survive."

Her stomach churned at his words, but before she could respond, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a small, brown. He handed it to her, and she stared down at it.

On the card was a symbol of three shapes: a circle, a triangle, and a square. Below the shapes was a phone number printed in bold black ink.

"What's this?" she asked, turning the card over in her hands.

"A chance," he said cryptically, standing up and brushing off his suit. "If you ever want to make real money, call that number. But be warned..." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Once you enter the game, there's no turning back."

Hae-un's grip on the card tightened as she stared up at him, a mix of fear and curiosity swirling in her chest. "What kind of game?"

He straightened, adjusting his tie. "You'll find out if you call," he said with a smirk. "Until then, Shin Hae-un... take care."

"Wait, how do you know my name?!" Hae-un asked, and the salesman chuckled. "Your name is Shin Hae-un, 27 years old, recently got fired from Emart, you have an 11 year old sister who is sick, and you are currently in debt needing to pay 200 million won."

Hae-un looked at him shocked, was he some kind of stalker? "Are you stalking me?" Hae-un asked him, but he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the subway station.

Hae-un sat back down on the bench, staring at the card in her hand. The weight of the 200,000 won in her pocket was nothing compared to the heaviness of the decision now looming over her.

She thought of Ga-young, of the medical bills piling up, of the landlord's warnings about late rent.

Hae-un stared at the card in her hand, the strange symbols seeming to taunt her. The circle, triangle, and square felt almost sinister now as they reflected under the dim subway lights. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned the card over and looked at the phone number again.

"Don't do this," she muttered to herself, her logical side screaming at her to tear the card in half and throw it into the nearest trash can. But her mind kept wandering back to Ga-young, lying in that sterile hospital room.

Her chest tightened as she imagined her sister's frail smile. Hae-un had promised Ga-young she'd take care of everything, that they'd get through it together. But how? With no job, no savings, and bills that seemed to grow larger every day, what choice did she have?

Her grip on the card tightened as she pulled out her phone with her other hand. Her thumb hovered over the dial pad for a moment, hesitation weighing heavily on her.

"Just one call," she whispered to herself, swallowing hard. "Just to see what this is about."

She dialed the number, her heart pounding in her chest with each beep of the keypad. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a moment longer before she pressed it.

The line rang once. Twice. Then, with a faint click, someone answered.

"Do you wish to participate in the game?" a deep, calm voice asked on the other end.

Hae-un froze, the man's words sending a chill down her spine. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself momentarily unable to form words.

"I—" She cleared her throat, her voice shaky. "What game?"

"If you wish to participate," the voice continued, ignoring her question, "please state your name and birthdate."

Her grip on the phone tightened as she glanced around the empty subway platform, half expecting someone to be watching her. The voice was so calm, so detached, as if it didn't belong to a real person.

"This... this isn't a scam, is it?" she asked cautiously, trying to steady her breathing. "What kind of game are you talking about?"

The man on the other end didn't respond immediately, and the silence made her uneasy. Finally, he spoke again, his tone exactly the same as before.

"If you wish to participate, please state your name and birthdate."

Hae-un felt a cold sweat forming on the back of her neck. Something about this felt off—too mysterious, too rehearsed. And yet, the thought of walking away from this opportunity, whatever it was, filled her with dread.

She thought of Ga-young again, her sweet voice echoing in her mind: "Unnie, don't worry about me, okay? You always take care of everything."

"I don't have a choice," Hae-un whispered under her breath, her resolve hardening. She raised the phone to her ear again and took a deep breath.

"Shin Hae-un," she said finally, her voice shaking. "December 16th, 1997."

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, she thought the call had dropped. Then the voice spoke again, calm and measured.

"Your participation has been confirmed."

TIA SPEAKS

okay okay i wrote this in school and its kinda rushed at the end

but it ended on a cliffhanger sooo

anyways any comments?

ily!

WORD COUNT

2908!