The mood shifted sharply around 9 p.m.

On the first day of their second week of confinement, the crew members, finally reunited after completing their individual schedules, were given a late dinner. It wasn’t bland porridge this time. It wasn’t a calorie-restricted menu for body maintenance either—it was a full-on feast. A so-called cheat day.

The crew buzzed with excitement as they lined up at the buffet, and Jiwon, who hadn’t eaten all day, piled his plate high without hesitation. There was even fried chicken on the menu, and he didn’t think twice before grabbing some. Even though the beer was non-alcoholic, it still helped set the mood.

Due to ongoing team segregation, they still had to sit only with their team members, but Jiwon managed to glance at Number 3 several times. It was intentional. Even while eating, they were aware of each other’s presence—when their eyes met, they traded signals, subtly timing when they’d get up.

“Don’t just eat meat—have some salad too.”

Number 3 scolded him while looking at his plate.

“You eat the greens. I’m here for the meat.”

Later, when Number 3 downed a third beer and reached for another bottle, Jiwon frowned and snapped back, “Cut it out. You’ll get a gut.”

Even though they were seated separately, it was like they were together.

“God, you two are sickening. That good, huh?”

Park Geonwoo asked with a smirk.

“Hyung, come on... it’s not like that...”

Jiwon mumbled awkwardly as he stuffed meat in his mouth.

“Dude, even this fork knows you and Number 3 went to town fucking.”

“Hyung!”

Jiwon glared. Park Geonwoo just mimicked him in a mocking tone: “Hyung!”

But this time, Geonwoo’s expression was much lighter. He looked like his usual, playful self again.

“Seems like you had a good time too.”

Jiwon didn’t back down.

Geonwoo gave him a thumbs up. Looked like he was very pleased with his own “gift” as well.

“Who was it?”

“What do you care?”

He looked a bit flustered.

In fact, it almost seemed like he was checking Jiwon’s reaction.

“Come on, who was it, hyung?”

“Damn, it’s been forever since I had a meal like this. This beef just melts in your mouth. Is this grade-A?”

Geonwoo changed the subject.

Which only made Jiwon more curious. He couldn’t even guess. If he’d been paying attention like usual, he might’ve figured it out. But tonight, all his focus had been on Number 3—he hadn’t even looked at Geonwoo.

“Forget it if you won’t say.”

“Ooh, look at Kim Jiwon getting all sulky now.”

In the end, Geonwoo never revealed who it was.

It wasn’t worth pressing, really. Whoever it was, if Geonwoo enjoyed it, that was all that mattered. Jiwon let it go.

The other team members looked just as satisfied. Especially Kim Yunho—he was so giddy, he could barely eat.

“I’m not hungry at all. Like, really, not at all.”

He wasn’t on drugs, but his expression and behavior looked no different from someone high.

Who the hell did he sleep with to be acting like that? Jiwon found himself more curious about Yunho’s “gift” than Geonwoo’s.

He scolded himself. He should’ve been observing everyone, not just Number 3.

By the time he realized it, dinner was nearly over and he’d missed his chance to figure it out. What an idiot.

It was only the beginning, and yet he’d already gotten complacent. A chill ran down his spine.

They’re not the ones at a disadvantage—you are. Get it together, Yoon Jiwon!

He scolded himself mentally.

Just then, his eyes met Han Seoho’s.

Seoho gave him a strange look, lips parting like he wanted to say something—but then he turned and whispered into Lee Gangjun’s ear. Gangjun flailed dramatically and they both burst into laughter.

So Seoho’s little games were starting again?

Jiwon frowned, then shook his head. Even if they were, he couldn’t let that bastard manipulate him anymore.

That was the conclusion he came to.

Honestly, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ Seoho was the one who’d lied constantly—but the reason Jiwon had truly ended up in danger was because of those closest to him. If anything, he needed to be keeping an eye on Park Geonwoo and Kim Yunho.

Not because he didn’t trust them—but because he did.

Dinner wrapped up after nearly an hour.

The crew gathered in groups around the lobby, taking a break.

All the ones who’d clearly enjoyed some good sex had flushed, glowing faces. None of them seemed to have paired off yet, and most were chatting with their usual groups.

But Jiwon had a task to take care of before the night was over.

With everyone now on individual schedules, it might become harder to find time. He needed to settle things with Choi Minjae and Son Geonwoo.

First up—Son Geonwoo.

Jiwon sent Park Geonwoo and Kim Yunho ahead to the lobby, then lingered by the dining hall entrance, waiting for Son Geonwoo to come out.

Before him, Number 9 emerged. Jiwon tensed up, ready to fight if needed. But Number 9 just leaned in close and grinned, baring his teeth.

“Toilet bowl, gomennasai~.”

He pressed his palms together and bowed mockingly.

“The fuck are you saying, you piece of shit.”

Jiwon growled low, just loud enough for him to hear.

Number 9 pulled an exaggerated shocked face, then burst out laughing.

“Feisty, huh. Let’s see if you’re still like that tomorrow.”

He raised a fist in mock warning, then swaggered off toward the lobby.

Jiwon felt disgusted.

Frowning, he scanned the dining hall.

More than half the cops, including Number 3, were still eating. Unfortunately, so were Son Geonwoo and his sidekick, Number 11—Kang Jooyoung. The only group still sitting together as a unit were the Muzzles—all eleven of them were still dining.

Worried Number 3 might think he was waiting, Jiwon tried not to look inside for too long. Instead, he paced in front of the café across the way.

Since most people had drinks during dinner—beer or otherwise—the unmanned café was dead quiet.

After waiting about ten more minutes, he finally saw Son Geonwoo.

Surprisingly, Geonwoo came out alone.

“Son Geonwoo. We need to talk.”

Now that part of his true self had already slipped out, there was no point pretending. He spoke in his natural tone—like Yoon Jiwon.

“You were waiting for me?”

Son Geonwoo asked brightly. The tone and mannerisms were similar to Number 3’s, but for some reason, it rubbed Jiwon the wrong way.

Fake.

Yeah, Son Geonwoo was a fake.

Just like Jiwon had been—all that speech and behavior was an act.

And the fact that it took him this long to see it made Jiwon feel like a damn fool.

“I want to talk about yesterday.”

“Yesterday? What part of yesterday?”

Son Geonwoo widened his eyes in feigned innocence.

“What happened?”

He tilted his head and played dumb.

“Room 9.”

Jiwon forced down his irritation.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if it had been Room 9 or 11.

“What about Room 9? Wait, were you interested in Number 9?”

Geonwoo kept up the clueless act.

This little shit.

When Jiwon glared,

“I mean seriously—what are you talking about?”

Geonwoo turned it around, sounding indignant.

So this was how he was going to play it.

All that time Jiwon had spent trying to figure out how to approach him—wasted. Geonwoo just flat-out denied everything about yesterday.

Maybe it was for the best. He might’ve had some other plan... or maybe he was just too embarrassed. For someone that age, it wasn’t impossible.

Am I being too optimistic?

Uncertain how to proceed, Jiwon decided to retreat for now.

“Nothing happened. I just wanted to check something.”

Back off, for now.

“Right? Nothing happened, right?”

“Yeah. Nothing happened.”

If you want to pretend nothing happened, fine. Let’s pretend.

All that stress for nothing.

He turned to leave—

“When you think about it, the math doesn’t really add up, does it?”

Son Geonwoo called to his back, smirking.

“You owe me.”

“Owe you?”

When Jiwon turned, Geonwoo mimed choking himself with both hands. He stuck his tongue out, tilted his head, and closed his eyes like he’d passed out.

Fuck. What now.

“What do you want?”

“I’ll think about it. You surprised me, after all.”

That smug expression was insufferable.

“I’ll probably ask for something big. Otherwise, I might have to tell Manager Kim.”

Geonwoo leaned in, pressing his face right up to Jiwon’s.

“Kim Jiwon-ssi... who are you, really? Are you real? Or are you fake?”

He poked Jiwon’s chest with a finger.

Jiwon’s heart dropped.

Fuck. I picked the wrong person.

What happened yesterday wasn’t anyone else’s fault. It was his own—an utterly stupid mistake.

What was the big deal about being fucked by three people when his hole could already take a fist? Why did he lose it like that?

“Fucking bastard.”

Jiwon glared and turned to leave the cafeteria.

He racked his brain trying to figure out how to escape this. But there was no way out. Son Geonwoo held the key now. All he could do was comply.

At least for now.

His palms were slick with sweat from the tension. Jiwon forced his expression into a neutral mask and went looking for Park Geonwoo and Kim Yunho.

He found them with Han Seoho’s group.

Park Geonwoo waved his arm excitedly when he saw Jiwon.

“Whoa, Kim Jiwon! You’re first place!”

“Crazy—five million won!”

They both shouted almost at the same time.

“First place? What are you talking about?”

“You ranked first! In Eden. It was a mission.”

Park Geonwoo shook his tablet excitedly.

A mission?

Fuck. The game had already started without them realizing. Eden hadn’t been just a concept—it was a game arena.

Jiwon had assumed they’d announce the next game like Manito, gathering everyone together. He was thrown off.

“There was a notice, dumbass. What the hell did you do to earn five mil?”

Kim Yunho asked, buzzing with excitement like it was his own prize.

“Five fucking million, can you believe it? Second place gets three mil, and third gets one.”

It looked like Jeong Hajun, who always carried his tablet, had been the first to spot the notice. That’s why everyone had gathered around him.

“They should’ve told us it was a game. I would’ve tried harder.”

“Seriously—I would’ve sold my soul.”

Jeong Hajun and Lee Gangjun complained.

“Congrats, hyung.”

“Buy us a meal sometime.”

Still, they all smiled and congratulated him warmly.

It was genuine.

“Thanks to you, we’re exempt from the penalty.”

Kim Yunho’s eyes sparkled.

“Guess it was like a group assignment.”

Park Geonwoo added.

Just then, a hand reached out and yanked Jiwon by the arm.

Han Seoho.

“Hyung~ Where were you hiding all that talent? Are you really the Kim Jiwon I know?”

He cooed with exaggerated affection.

Jiwon was just stunned.

He’d known people were watching—but he hadn’t realized it was a game, let alone one with rankings. He’d assumed the whole scorekeeping ended with semen collection and milking.

Sure, it was good that his teammates were spared punishment because of him, but honestly—it made him feel like shit.

It meant the hosts and guests had been watching him take those punches and scoring him for it.

You enjoying this, you sick fucks?

The real problem started once everyone still in the cafeteria came into the lobby and heard the news.

Where there’s a winner, there’s a loser.

And the losing team—unfortunately—was Team 1. The cops.

They were told they’d have to report for punishment as soon as the break ended.

The moment Number 9 heard that, he lost it.

“Fuck this! What kind of bullshit punishment is this, you fuckers?!”

That was the trigger.

Even though no one knew what the punishment was yet, the other cops started to panic.

They shouted just as angrily, cursed up a storm, kicked over sofas, and flipped tables.

A small riot broke out in seconds. At first, it was just property damage—but their rage soon turned on the weakest target: the Sailors.

Even though the Muzzles were exempt from punishment too, they started attacking the Sailors, who looked like easy prey.

The first punch came from Number 11—Kang Jooyoung.

The biggest of the twenty-nine crew members, he went straight for the smallest—Lee Jihoon. He landed a flurry of hits to Jihoon’s face and nose, knocking him down.

Lee Gangjun and Jeong Hajun, who had been sitting right next to him, screamed and ran instead of helping. Han Seoho darted behind the Muzzles. So did Park Geonwoo and Kim Yunho.

It turned into a sitcom of chasing and fleeing. Screams and shouts filled the lobby.

No one stepped in.

Kang Jooyoung kicked Jihoon, who was already bleeding on the floor. Jihoon crawled backward, curling up to protect his face—his most valuable asset.

That image overlapped with the last memory Jiwon had of that boy.

Without thinking, he ran toward Jihoon.

He could’ve just kicked that fucker out of the way—but he couldn’t risk making another mistake in front of everyone.

For now, protect.

Protect the boy.

That was all he thought about.

Jiwon shielded Jihoon with his entire body. Kang Jooyoung’s kick landed on him instead. The force was brutal, but that only made him hold Jihoon tighter.

He took the blows with his own body.

“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay. Just trust me.”

He whispered to Jihoon—or rather, to that boy.

It’s okay. I’m here.

It’s going to be okay.

He shielded him with everything he had.

Until Kang Jooyoung’s massive body finally collapsed beside him.