Chapter 242
Thor!?
IAM stood staring at the door, as if unsure this was even his.
He tilted his head slightly. The number 13 was printed cleanly in metallic paint near the top of the doorframe. It caught the hallway light just enough to glint at him, like it was mocking him.
"…Number 13 is such an unlucky number," he muttered.
He glanced at the black metallic scanner panel mounted beside the door.
He pulled out his phone, checked the code one more time, and held the device up. A moment passed.
The panel blinked blue and let out a soft beep.
Click.
The lock disengaged.
IAM stepped inside.
And stopped.
The whole gang was there. All gathered casually around the kitchen table like it was the middle of a normal evening.
There were bags of snacks on the counter. Some empty cups. And around the table, each of them was holding a phone.
He squinted. Upon closer look, they all seemed to be playing something... It took him a second to register what it was.
"…Are you guys playing Una?" he said flatly.
They had all simultaneously turned around the moment IAM stepped through the door. Three heads, three pairs of eyes—locking onto him like a pack of starving wolves spotting a meal.
Before IAM could even open his mouth, he was bombarded with questions.
Reuel was the first to shout, practically leaping out of his chair:"Holy crap, he's actually back! A few hours, he said—you took the whole damn day! What were you doing?"
Yohan looked up from his phone as he added in a more quiet, puzzled voice:
"Your... clothes... That's not the same one you wore when you left. What happened to the last one?" His eyes narrowed, like he was studying the tracksuit.
Henry didn't waste any time either:"Are you still going to do training? Don't think showing up late gets you an excuse... "
And then, right on cue, Reuel chimed in again, barely able to contain his grin:
"Wait, wait—you see it now, right? Now that you're back, it's obvious! I didn't even follow you sneakily this time! Glaze me! Glaze me!" He raised both arms like he was ready for applause.
IAM let out a long, tired sigh and quietly closed the door behind him with a soft click. He didn't even bother turning around before saying,"Let me take a shower first. I feel really sweaty..."
From behind him, Reuel immediately cried out in outrage:"Wait a minute! I'm noticing a pattern here—every time he doesn't want to talk, he jumps into that damn shower!"
IAM muttered under his breath, "Shut up, Reuel," as he grabbed a change of clothes and a towel from the room and disappeared toward the bathroom without another word.
Minutes later, IAM stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing faintly behind him as the door eased shut. He wore a plain white vest and a loose pair of shorts. A black bonnet sat lazily on his head, holding back his hair. The fresh scent of soap still clung to his skin.
Reuel spotted him immediately and waved him over like they'd been waiting hours.
"Come on, bro! Join the game—we need another victim to add to the scoreboard."
There was already a wicked glint in his eyes.
IAM raised a brow but said nothing. He walked over and pulled out a chair, sitting down beside Reuel, who was already grinning like a man possessed.
The table was a mess—snacks, half-finished drinks and someone's sock (Reuel's) somehow draped over the corner. Yohan was leaning back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, phone in hand. Henry sat with his arms folded, his eyes glued to the screen with determination.
IAM pulled out his phone. As he began downloading UNA, he caught Reuel watching him like a shark circling a seal.
Once the app finished installing, IAM logged in. The tutorial popped up. Bright colours and cheerful music began to play—His eye twitched. "...It's deadass the same game."
Reuel leaned in, grinning from ear to ear.
"What is it? Feeling scared already? You won't be able to handle all this heat, bro. You're about to get cooked!"
He let out a high-pitched cackle, tapping furiously on his screen like a man ready for war.
IAM just shook his head and frowned as he looked directly at Reuel, his brow twitching slightly."What exactly are you talking about? This is literally a luck-based game."
Reuel recoiled like IAM had just blasphemed.
"Whaaaat? No it's not… Is this your excuse? 'Cause I think it's just a skill issue, my guy."
He pointed accusingly at IAM's phone.
IAM tilted his head. "No. It's quite literally a luck-based game. As long as you get a few decent cards and use a little bit of common sense, it's easy to win. But if your cards are trash compared to everyone else's—then no matter what you do, you're going to lose regardless."
He leaned back slightly and gestured with both hands.
"It's a game that's completely unfair to the unlucky and disregards any actual skill one might have."
There was a pause.
"Damn," Henry said with mock sympathy, placing his right hand gently on IAM's shoulder like he was consoling a fallen soldier. "I didn't know you were so passionate about UNA, man… But it really just sounds like a skill issue for real though."
IAM kissed his teeth sharply, shaking his head."OK then. Let's get into a game."
His fingers tapped the screen with intent.
"We'll see about my skill issue."
They all got into a game room, the soft hum of their phones filling the silence as they connected. A few taps, swipes, and minor disagreements later, they had finally set the rules for the match.
Stacks allowed.
Discard all allowed.
+4s can stack.
No mercy.
IAM narrowed his eyes slightly as he leaned over the screen, listening as Reuel cackled maniacally while adjusting the settings.
"It's time," Henry said dramatically, cracking his knuckles."Let's see who survives."
IAM sat with his phone resting in his palm, his face neutral, his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration.
The moment arrived. The virtual deck shuffled, and the game began. Cards flicked across the screen one by one, automatically dealt—seven cards per player, flying in with light chimes and a slight shake of the screen. The others began reacting almost immediately, chuckling at their hands or mumbling under their breath as they studied their options.
IAM, however, didn't move.
Without a word, IAM placed his phone face-down on the table and stood up.
"I refuse to be humiliated like this," IAM muttered as he took another step.
It took all three of them—Henry grabbing one arm, Yohan pulling at the back of his shirt, and Reuel blocking the doorway—to wrestle him back into his seat.
Breathing heavily, IAM picked up his phone with a solemn expression. Across the table, Reuel made his move without hesitation, casually slapping down a card.
Then, Reuel leaned in far too close, his grin stretching from ear to ear. His breath was warm against IAM's ear, and in a raspy, breathy whisper, he said, "Pick up four…"