There were 91,999 people gathered together. It was the largest crowd since the Yeouido Fireworks Festival, and every single person craned their neck upward, staring at the sky.

[The first project of new employee training, Physical Fitness Test, will begin now!]

After the talent show came the physical fitness test. It sounded like a child’s game, but not a single person there thought of it as one, and for good reason.

Gulp.

They were staring at what used to be a human body that had been shredded like paper through a grinder.

[The Crow from the Bureau of Management clenches their fist, saying it’s time to show off their comrade’s true strength!]

[The Newbie from the Bureau of Corporate Relations predicts that this year’s test will be even tougher.]

[The Brain from the Bureau of Investigation warns everyone not to underestimate the competition.]

The only ones laughing were those watching from beyond the Eye, the detached observers.

“Physical fitness test...”

“So it’s about using our physical strength, right?”

“Would it be a team trial?”

All of them, including the K-pop idols, who had been laughing moments ago; Ye-Ji, who always bickered; and even Swear-Master, had frozen faces now.

[The Physical Fitness Test consists of four rounds.]

[After each round, the winning team will receive a reward and move on to the next stage.]

[Teams that lose will not advance and must compete in a placement match among themselves, so be careful!]

Win, and you move on. Lose, and you fight for rank, Eun-Ho thought.

The well-designed game threw about 92,000 survivors into unease. With every round came a fifty-percent chance of disaster.

“What? Only the winners move on to the next round?”

“Then what happens if we lose in the first one?”

“There’s a ranking match, but even if you do well there, you’ll probably only make it to twenty-fourth place.”

Ji-Eun bit her nail. “If we end up in the bottom ranks today...”

She didn't even need to finish her words for everyone to know exactly what she meant.

“Their lodgings! They were all from Silvery Blade!”

They would be sent to that place no doubt. It was that mysterious hell everyone had seen.

“... We have to win. No matter what.”

“You’re right, Noonim!”

[The event for Round 1 is—]

They nodded grimly, focusing on the voice that followed.

What could it be?

These 92,000 people had clawed their way up, overtaking, pushing down and even killing others to survive.

What kind of contest would bring them all together now? It’s a physical test, so it won’t be mental work. Probably something that measures strength or endurance...

[Tug-of-war.]

“... The hell?”

The word slipped out of Eun-Ho’s mouth with a short laugh. It was too ordinary and too absurd. Apparently, that reaction offended a few unseen observers.

[The Newbie from the Bureau of Corporate Relations asks if you are underestimating tug-of-war.]

[The Brain from the Bureau of Investigation advises that taking it lightly could cost you your life.]

“... Yeah, I know.”

After all, in the talent show, someone had almost died after getting hit by a stray Go stone. That meant, a tug-of-war could very well be just as deadly. It wouldn't even be surprising if someone decided to use the rope as a whip.

[The match draw will now begin.]

[Check the tournament bracket!]

Pop!

A massive board appeared in the sky, filled with dozens of square labels, which had twenty-three pairs of empty slots. Then, a giant cannon appeared before it.

Crackle!

Its fuse caught fire and the spark crept inward.

Boom!

What shot out wasn’t a bomb, but a ball that struck one of the labels. From within the burst of light, names scattered like fragments.

Puff!

There they were, the team names filling the chart.

[Match draw has been completed!]

“ROK... There we are!”

Below that, their opponent’s name appeared.

“JP?”

They were against Japan.

“What? Korea?!”

“That’s the team that has the new recruit representative!”

“Hey, Captain. Do you think you can handle this?”

Their translated voices rang out from all directions, full of tension. They were just as determined.

Ha... A Korea–Japan match, even here? Eun-Ho thought bitterly.

***

[A safe zone has been generated for each district.]

Fwoosh!

On the map, a bright green rectangle appeared not far from their position. From a distance, it appeared more like a line than a field. An unusually long, narrow strip, to be precise.

[You have ten minutes.]

[Please make your way to the designated safe zones.]

“Run!”

They weren’t the only ones sprinting. Ninety-two thousand people dashed across the land, each toward their own safe zone. The once-green field sank under the stampede, clouds of dust curling up from the crushed grass.

“Captain, I think we should...” said a Japanese member.

Eun-Ho turned his ear toward the Japanese team’s conversation. They’d lowered their voices, probably aware he was listening. Therefore, he could not catch the rest.

Eun-Ho discussed it with his team. “That must be their representative.”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

The man they called Captain had sharp features and a lean frame. He barely stood a little over one seventy centimeters, his build more wiry than strong. It was hardly the image of a traditional fighter.

Yet, even little Yul trembled at the mere sight of him. “Daddy... That man looks scary...”

“It’s okay, Yul. Don’t look at him.”

His hair was cut short, almost military style. Above all, his eyes blazed with such intensity, it felt like he could strangle someone just by looking. A thin scar on his cheek only deepened the menace. What made him intimidating wasn't his size, but the sheer pressure that radiated from him.

Besides, the one repeatedly calling him “Captain” seemed like an athlete. He was tall for a Japanese man, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a white gi.

Is he a judo practitioner? Well it doesn’t matter whether it’s judo or karate, Eun-Ho thought.

Athletes like that rarely bowed their heads to those weaker than themselves. Even Eun-Ho, who considered himself on the gentler side, understood that instinct all too well.

Which means there’s something about him, he thought.

Something powerful enough to command loyalty.

“I’ll take that Eun-Ho bastard first.”

“No. We have to focus on the match first.”

Hearing that conversation, Eun-Ho sighed. Their hostility couldn’t have been more obvious.

“Eun-Ho,” Ji-Eun said, uneasy. “You should watch out for that man...”

“I agree. He does look scary.”

“No, that’s not it,” she insisted, shaking her head. “It’s his aura. It’s different.”

“Different? How?” Eun-Ho asked.

“It’s like... If you get too close, you’ll be cut. He’s like a perfectly sharpened blade.”

Her words made him pause. When Ji-Eun’s instincts spoke, it was never wise to ignore them. Not that he needed convincing, the man was already dangerous enough just by standing there.

What kind of ability would he have? Eun-Ho wondered.

To be number one among over a hundred million people, the man had to possess something extraordinary. Of that, Eun-Ho was certain.

“They’ll come at us ready to die,” Eun-Ho warned. “We should be careful.”

“Okay!” Ji-Eun replied quickly.

“Jae-Hyuk, try to take the front if you can,” Eun-Ho added.

“Got it, Hyungnim!”

Thud!

The so-called safe zone they finally reached turned out to be nothing more than a dirt field. It seemed more like a schoolyard than a stadium. There, stretched out across the middle like a dividing line, was a rope.

“Whoa, what the hell is up with that rope?”

“Yeah. Why’s it so long?”

It was enormous and unreasonably long. Granted, a thousand people on each side required space to grab on. Even so, it stretched so far that even from the center, the ends vanished into the distance.

“Eun-Ho, what would this yellow line be for?” Ye-Ji asked.

“It’s probably the center line. The reference point,” he answered.

“Oh, and that’s why the knot’s painted yellow too? To show where the middle is?”

“Yeah, it seems that way.” Ye-Ji nodded, satisfied for a moment, then tilted her head again. “Wait... There’s another line back there!”

When Eun-Ho looked where she pointed, he spotted a faint red line drawn far behind the yellow one. A yellow line was in the middle and a red line was at the back.

[ROK versus JP, JP versus ROK!]

[You have one minute and there are two ways to win!]

[First, drag the knot at the center of the rope past your team’s victory line.]

[Second, if the time limit ends, the team holding the knot within their area wins.]

[However, to ensure fair play, if any participant dies due to direct physical assault, the team responsible will incur a severe penalty! Please be cautious!]

“So,” Ji-Eun said, thinking aloud, “If we pull the knot deep into our area, we win instantly. Otherwise, we just have to hold it until time runs out?”

“Exactly,” Eun-Ho replied. “Which means we’ll have to play this strategically.”

Most people thought of tug-of-war as something from school sports. Simple, harmless and fun. Regardless, it still counted as a sport, and all sports had strategies.

“Strategically? For tug-of-war?”

“Of course. Maybe not a guaranteed win, but there’s a method.”

Normally, when teams were equal in number, the trick was to place the strongest people at the very front and the very back. However, with two thousand on each side, it'd be meaningless.

“We should concentrate the strongest and heaviest people at the very front,” Eun-Ho decided.

Therefore, he started picking the biggest and most muscular men he could find. “Hey you! Big Guy and Hammer! Up front!”

“B-Big Guy?”

“Wait, did you just call me Hammer?!”

They were the same men who’d fought under Seung-Tae before. Even though Eun-Ho knew they’d been brainwashed back then, things still felt awkward between them. After all, they’d gone down bloodied, six against one. Still, power was power.

“Our bodies still aren’t—” one of them said.

“Sol-Ah healed you, didn’t she? I know you’re fine. Get going,” Eun-Ho cut in.

“I mean...”

It doesn’t matter whether it’s fat or muscle. Strength is precious now, Eun-Ho thought.

“Hey you, who lost a spear! Your stamina’s at least twenty-five, right?”

“Spear what?”

“Answer. Yes or no?”

“... Yeah, it’s twenty-eight.”

“Then get up front.”

“... Okay.”

That made eight so far. Nine, including Jae-Hyuk.

“Hey, Mister! What was your stamina again?”

“Uh... It’s at twenty-five right now!”

Not bad.

“Then, go up front,” Eun-Ho said.

“On it!” replied the security guard, marching forward energetically.

As they organized their line, Park Gong-Chan and his group came jogging over.

“We’ll join that group too.”

“I appreciate it,” Eun-Ho said with a nod.

Then another voice called out. “These guys are strong too. Take them.”

It was Jang Han-Il, leading a small troop of his own.

“Sounds good.”

Eun-Ho hadn’t expected him to be the first to offer help. Maybe the man really had changed.

Han-Il, you’ve grown, Eun-Ho thought silently.

After a brief nod, he called over to the Taereung team, “Please line up right behind the soccer team.”

“Got it!”

“Yes, sir!”

Watching them, Han-Il muttered under his breath, his face tight, “I’m... Almost there.”

His leg was still injured, the limp obvious. To recover completely, he required the trial reward. When he clenched his fist and lowered his gaze, Eun-Ho could feel both his desperation and frustration.

This match was two thousand versus two thousand. At a moment when every single person’s contribution mattered more than anything, guilt gnawed at those who could not perform their role. Shame ate at the ones who could not even keep their own physiques safe. Eun-Ho knew that feeling better than anyone.

“Are you about eighty percent healed?” Eun-Ho asked quietly.

“H-how did you know that?!” the man replied, scratching his head.

“When you’re fully healed, just run twice as hard.”

“What?”

“That will do.”

It was a single, spare instruction that there was no reason to suffer so much right now.

The man hesitated, then rubbed his hair. “How are you always so calm?”

“What do you—”

Suddenly, the announcement cut in.

[Attention all survivors of the ROK and JP districts.]

“I’m just—”

Eun-Ho reached out to stop the man from speaking. “Sorry, not right now.”

He swept his gaze over the opposing line.

[Tug-of-war begins in thirty seconds.]

[Grab the rope!]

With thirty seconds to go, they had already arranged their people almost entirely by build and size. Every slot had been considered.

Just then, Eun-Ho noticed something odd. “Huh?”

“What’s up with them?” Ji-Eun asked.

The Japanese team didn’t move at all. Their front line was nearly empty, except for the man they called Captain. The rest stood scattered at wide intervals, as if making room for something.

“Are they planning to just lie down?”

“Even so, the gaps are too big...” Eun-Ho muttered.

While they tried to puzzle out the inexplicable spacing, the Captain folded two of his left fingers and two of his right over his chest and closed his eyes.

“What is he doing, Hyungnim?!” Jae-Hyuk blurted.

“It doesn’t look too good...” Eun-Ho replied.

Then, he opened his eyes. “Shadow Clone!”

Everything snapped into motion. The man’s still self trembled as if the air around him failed to focus. Then, he split into two.

Puff!

Then he became three, four, and five and continued to multiply like ink splotches spreading across paper. He kept multiplying down the length of the rope.

“W-what the hell is that?”

“Holy smokes!”

There were easily five hundred of them. The Captain’s already intimidating glare was now multiplied five hundred times, each clone projecting the same cold, butcher-knife intent.

People lost their composure. Panicked cries filled the field.

“Would those clones have the same strength as the original?!”

“This is impossible! Look at the numbers!

“Even if we just try to hold by weight, we’re screwed!”

On paper, it was two thousand against two thousand five hundred, which was overwhelmingly disadvantageous.

Eun-Ho put a hand on the small girl’s shoulder, steering everyone’s attention down the line. “Yul.”

Their team had a secret weapon too: one little ninja.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said softly. “Wanna help me?”