In a vast, empty space, Kai was jolted awake by the yellow-haired man beside him.
He blinked a few times, dazed, staring at the giant doll looming in front of them.
Three days ago, he'd been sleeping peacefully in his dorm back in U.S. But when he woke up that morning, he found himself in Korea—only it wasn't the same Korea he knew. It was some kind of parallel world, cutting off any chance of returning to his original one.
Fortunately, the body he'd transmigrated into also belonged to a man named Kai, a Chinese-American who had somehow obtained Korean residency.
Kai considered that at least one stroke of luck—he hadn't turned into a Korean.
To his relief, he had also inherited the original host's language talent, so he could now speak fluent Korean without any issue.
But the luck ended there. The original Kai had lost over 50 million won in stock trading and still owed another 40 million won to the bank. Now, those debts had become his problem.
When Kai first found out, he was so furious he nearly smashed every pot and pan in the restaurant kitchen.
"What the hell is this? I transmigrate into another world—no system, no cheats—and I start off with 50 million won in debt? That's 250,000 yuan! The guy was only twenty-five and already a financial disaster!"
Still, there was one small comfort: the original host had no family nearby. At least Kai didn't have to deal with any messy relatives.
He ran the host's small BBQ restaurant, planning to work hard and slowly pay off the debt. But after checking the accounts, he realized the restaurant's monthly profit barely hit 5,000 yuan. At that rate, it would take five years to repay everything.
Five years just to clear someone else's debt? That sounded like hell.
Then, one day on the subway, he met a strange man in a suit. The man asked him to play Paper Flip, promising 100,000 won per win—about 500 yuan.
At first, Kai thought it was a scam. But then the man added, "If you lose, I get to slap you instead."
Kai smirked. "Only an idiot refuses free money."
He played for an hour—fifty rounds in total—and ended up winning 3.2 million won while receiving eighteen slaps. His face burned, but his wallet didn't.
As he prepared to leave, the man handed him a small card.
"If you want to play bigger games, call the number on this card. You can win a lot of money."
Kai examined it. It had three symbols on it—a circle, triangle, and square. He snorted and stuffed it into his pocket.
A few days later, curiosity got the better of him. He dialed the number.
That was the last thing he remembered before being drugged in a car.
Now, he woke up here—surrounded by strangers wearing teal tracksuits. His had the number 250 printed on it in bold white letters.
Kai stared at it and groaned.
"Two-fifty? Seriously? Out of all numbers, I get the unluckiest one?"
After signing some strange contract, he and the others were herded toward the open field before the giant doll.
Then, a mechanical female voice echoed across the playground:
[Game One: Red Light, Green Light.
When the doll's back is turned, players may move forward.
When it faces the players, all movement must stop.
Anyone who crosses the red finish line within the time limit will pass.
Anyone who moves while being observed or fails to finish in time will be eliminated.]
Kai exhaled in relief. "Alright, that doesn't sound too hard."
Still, he didn't let his guard down. He noticed a faint red glow in the doll's eyes—clearly some kind of motion sensor. And in a world like this, "eliminated" probably didn't mean disqualified.
So he played it smart. He hid behind the taller players, using them as cover so the scanner wouldn't pick up his movements.
Beside him, the **yellow-haired man—Player 324—**seemed far too excited. When the doll said "Green Light," he bolted forward with reckless energy, quickly taking the lead.
But on the second round, he failed to stop in time. The doll's head twisted back. Its eyes flashed red.
"Player 324, eliminated."
A loud gunshot cracked through the air. The man's head exploded into a cloud of blood and brain matter.
A woman behind him—Player 306—shrieked, "You idiot, you're—"
She didn't finish her sentence. Blood splattered across her face. She froze for half a second, then screamed at the top of her lungs.
"MURDER! They're killing people!"
Panic spread instantly. Dozens of players turned and sprinted toward the massive gate behind them.
Kai didn't move. Not because he was brave—hell no—but because his legs were too weak to even twitch.
Then the gunfire erupted again. Those who ran were shot down one by one, their bodies collapsing in heaps.
Only the ones who stayed still were unharmed.
Kai forced himself to breathe, fighting the tremor in his legs. "Okay... don't move. Don't. Fucking. Move."
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw an old man walking steadily forward.
"Wait… isn't that Player 001?"
He was completely calm, even smiling as if the bullets and screams didn't exist.
Kai had met him briefly back in the dormitory. He'd found it odd that such an elderly man was even here, so they'd chatted for a bit.
But right now, friendship didn't matter. Kai had realized something.
The doll's eyes really were scanning movement. So if he hid behind someone else, the sensors might not pick him up.
And if that "someone else" happened to be old and slow—well, that was just a bonus.
"If the old guy makes it through, great—I'll follow him.
If he gets shot, well... at least I'll have a body shield."
Kai chuckled darkly to himself. "Genius."
As for his conscience? He figured it could go to hell.
"If I live, maybe I'll feel guilty. But if I die, who the hell cares about conscience?"
Once he made up his mind, Kai jogged up and positioned himself directly behind Player 001. The old man, moving at a steady pace, didn't even notice.
Soon, others caught on and began doing the same—using the people in front of them as human shields to block the doll's deadly gaze.
The game of Red Light, Green Light had officially turned into a battle for survival.