Game 1: Potatoes Problems.The chair moaned under his weight as though it had pressed a complaint to the union against the back of Kim Do-hyun. He bent into it as though he were desperately trying to escape the fluorescent light from the ceiling overhead, his knees were clamped together, and his hands were thrust in between them like luggage that no one wished to identify as theirs.It wasn't a room but a bowl, it was the auditorium. It was like A giant silver soup bowl tipped over, there were hundreds of college students in it. Their mumbling was like rattles on the walls, and they bounced about like frightened marbles. Some students giggled, while pretending to be confident. Others were looking forward with cold eyes like stone as though they already held swords of fire. Do-hyun was not one of them.⚡His palms were so sweaty they had just gone through an exercise of the entire body without informing the rest of him. His chest rose and fell at a regular but annoying tempo, each beat

GAME THREE: The Tower OpensThe problem with livestreams is that you do not expect them to ruin your life. You click, you laugh, perhaps you leave a stupid remark, and you move on. Nobody anticipates that the end of the world will appear between a cat meme and a mukbang thumbnail.But Han Tae-yang (한태양), twenty-one years old, unemployed, champion of procrastination, clicked anyway.The slightest pressure on his busted phone screen.And the world was altered.The video appeared, unsteady video of some streamer standing at a crossroad in Seoul. Behind him rose a tower so huge it obscured the horizon, as though someone had cut a hole in the world and inserted a monolith out of an RPG into the middle of the city. Not only was it high, but too high, and its spire was lost in the mists like a skyscraper sketched by a god before he had learned perspective.The voice of the streamer quavered.“Uh, guys… I don't know how to put this, but… this is… this is the Divine Tower of God Challenge. It w

Game 5: Don’t Call Yourself My DadHan Tae-yang (한태양) froze.So loud, so familiar, so irritating, that voice.He turned his head slowly, as though he already knew the jump scare was coming in a horror movie but still looked anyway. His heart gave one stroke, not of fright but of the recognition of the type of man who can dispel a mood by his presence.And there lay heKim Lee SooHe was plump and big-shouldered, and his face was smug, as though a half-price leather jacket and sunglasses at night had made him a star. His smile was ear to ear, those white teeth that would yell dental sponsorship money.Then the words fell down“Haha! It is Han Tae-yang, all right," Kim Lee yelled, and everybody in the subway concourse turned. His voice was falsely friendly, full of sarcasm, the voice that was a greeting and an insult at the same time. “What’s this? You're here?. Come say hello to me, your dad" he said trying to taunt Tae-yang.The word dad was dirty, contorted.Han Tae-yang awoke. His j

Game 7: The Bamboo Tree Strikes Back The bamboo staff, which was now a hideous living monster, rattled in the fountain. Its roots were thick and glossy as jade, and they were twisting outwards with the sinuousness of snakes on wet rock. With every root that was pulled up, a greasy smear of green was left on the marble floor, making the concourse unsafe. The panicked, sweaty, bloody smell mingled with the fresh sap smell that filled the air.The leaves were dropping in flurries, and with impossible agility they were twisting and spinning through the air. There was no breeze, but they seemed to be guided missiles, the edges of them being as sharp as steel scalpels. One who was touched by one was instantly bound, vines twining with deadly precision. Legs were stolen, lungs were stolen. The leaves were constricted in a methodical, calculated way, as though the tree itself were of an evil mind. Players fell and wailed and skidded in sneakers over wet marble, tumbled over roots, and splash

Game 9: The Bait is GoneKim Lee-soo's lungs burned as the roots coiled tighter around his chest. He gasped like a fish dragged from water, thrashing in panic. His eyes bulged, his pale face slick with sweat."Han Tae-yang! Bro, help." His voice cracked, breaking into wheezes. The massive bamboo roots kept twisting, snapping his ribs one by one.Han Tae-yang? Already turning his back, feet carrying him away through the chaos. His shadow stretched long on the ground, an image of someone who had decided survival came first.Lee-soo's last hope crumbled.From the side, Kong Jin-hoop stood with arms crossed, that oily smile on his lips. He watched Lee-soo's misery like a man enjoying free theater."Too bad,” Jin-hoop said, shrugging with mock sympathy. “If you have a complaint, file it with your lawyers.”The roots slid higher, reaching Lee-soo's throat. His eyes bulged wider, tears spilling."No, wait, don't! I don't wanna"Crunch.The sound echoed through the clearing. His cry broke int