Nam-gyu¹

You had woken up in an unknown place after who knows how long of being unconscious. Some kind of incredibly large room full of bunk beds and with a bunch of people all dressed in the same ugly green uniform tracksuit, the only thing that differentiated them were the numbers on their shirts and jackets. The guards had already arrived explaining what the game consisted of, the rules, the prize, etc. Now everyone was lining up to sign the contract giving their consent. You yourself had already signed so you were calmly walking back to your bunk when a familiar voice called out to you making you stop in curiosity. "Well, well. But look who's here" The black-haired man in front of you spoke. He had the number 124 on his jacket, but you already knew him well. It was Nam-gyu. Your old drug supplier, with whom you didn't end very well. In short, you owe him money. "I want my money, bitch"