Survival Island Final Chapter (1)
In truth, there had never been a plan to approach the enemy disguised as a rope and take them out.
It was only possible because there were two of them. Had all five still been present, such an operation would have been physically impossible.
Even by simple calculation, while I fire one shot, the enemy fires five.
Even if he had deceived them, joined their group, and launched a surprise attack, he would have managed to eliminate only two—three at the absolute most.
Sure enough, even while dealing with the pair, a bullet from Player 30 struck Yeon-woo’s arm as he held the human shield.
Yeon-woo shook out his faintly stinging left arm and checked his smartwatch.
Current Hit Count: 1
Of course, the odds that Player 30 had deliberately aimed for his arm in that frantic moment were low.
He was about to die himself, so he just sprayed fire wildly…
The two he had just met had been moving together, but there was no way of knowing whether the remaining three had scattered individually or were still operating as a unit.
And since they saw the kill log, any participant with half a brain will already have figured out the method I used.
In any case, he would not be able to pull the same trick again.
Yeon-woo stared blankly for a moment at the two players who were gazing up at him with hollow expressions, then pressed the emergency call button on his smartwatch.
He pulled a Hit Count Reset Ticket from his bag, held it up to the headcam, and spoke.
“I’ll use a Hit Count Reset Ticket first. And I have a question—am I able to speak with production?”
Beep—
A tone sounded from the smartwatch, followed by Yoon Chang-joon’s voice.
“This is PD Yoon Chang-joon. Go ahead.”
“Is it permitted to scavenge the equipment of eliminated players?”
“….”
The request was clearly unexpected; a brief silence stretched out.
Then the PD’s answer came.
“Not permitted. Why do you ask?”
“I’m running low on ammunition and wanted to restock.”
“…Ammunition, you say? Please hold a moment.”
Of the sixty rounds issued upon arrival at Survival Island, only a handful remained.
Yeon-woo had personally eliminated six players so far.
Firing in rapid succession, he had averaged roughly six rounds per elimination. Add the shots fired into the air early on to zero the sights, plus a few test rounds to check the suppressor’s performance, and the expenditure had been considerable.
One of them surrendered, and the last pair I took with the pistol—that’s the only reason I have any left at all.
Judging by how long production was taking, additional ammunition might well be ruled out. He needed a contingency plan.
The production team had assumed that, in a thirty-player game, even the most combat-heavy finalist would fight only three times or so.
In their pre-production mock tests, the staffer who burned through the most rounds still hadn’t used a full thirty by the time he “won.”
There were even players still alive who had yet to fire a single shot.
Sixty rounds—double that amount—had seemed more than enough. And now one contestant was about to empty the entire allotment…
They had never imagined a single player would eliminate so many others solo, so no separate regulation for ammunition had been written.
Yoon Chang-joon called the assistant directors and writers over for a quick huddle.
“Reset Player 7’s hit count first. Now—what do we do about extra rounds?”
“If we give extra ammo only to Ryu Yeon-woo, someone’s guaranteed to cry foul about fairness later. The show’s been airtight so far; I’d rather not put a scratch on it.”
“But we can’t exactly tell him to keep fighting a gun survival with no bullets. Technically, no resupply is correct—but that’ll just get production roasted even harder.”
“He still has some left, so maybe he’ll just conserve. The other players will fight each other too.”
The writer chewed on that, then leaned in and whispered something to the PD.
“How about this? Let the gallery watching in the control room vote on it. That way we don’t take the heat.”
Yoon Chang-joon’s eyes lit up.
“Ah—if they vote no, the blame lands on them instead of us. If they vote yes, the interested parties themselves approved it, so no one can cry foul about fairness. Nice.”
Oppose the resupply and the gallery eats the criticism; approve it and the participants’ own people have consented, removing any grounds for equity complaints.
Yoon Chang-joon strode straight over to the gallery.
On the monitors the pistol sequence was replaying, and the gallery members were staring at Player 7’s performance with their mouths hanging open.
Including the managers of the two just-eliminated contestants, eight people were seated. The PD approached them and began.
“We’ve just received a request from Player 7, so I’d like to solicit your opinions…”
Yoon Chang-joon started laying the groundwork to redirect any potential backlash onto the gallery.
Whether a meeting was required or not, no answer came for some time after Yeon-woo’s emergency call to production.
In the interim, guide staff arrived on site to collect the two eliminated players.
Then the smartwatch crackled to life again.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. This is PD Yoon Chang-joon.”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid scavenging eliminated players’ gear is not permitted, and additional ammunition cannot be issued either. All participants must compete under identical conditions; we ask for your understanding of this decision.”
“….”
Yeon-woo checked the plastic rounds still loaded in the rifle and pistol, then nodded.
“Understood.”
After confirming via the smartwatch that his hit count had been reset, he moved at once.
He had lingered too long in one spot; he needed to relocate quickly.
Fine. Orders are orders. Not much choice.
Surviving players, including himself: six.
Remaining ammunition: four pistol rounds, eight rifle rounds.
Twelve rounds total.
Even if every shot landed perfectly three times, it still wouldn’t be enough to eliminate everyone.
He didn’t feel particularly cheated.
On a real battlefield, supplies didn’t magically appear just because you were running low.
And the remaining survivors will fight each other anyway, so I don’t have to take them all out myself. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have wasted rounds testing the suppressor.
He recalled the few shots he had fired into the air before setting out from the north, just to check the suppressor’s performance.
In hindsight the rounds felt wasted, yet the test had not been entirely fruitless.
Who knew a suppressor would actually increase the effective range.
Extending the barrel lengthened the overall tube; the lightweight, low-powered plastic rounds simply flew farther.
With a real firearm the muzzle energy would have been too high for the effect to appear, but these light plastic pellets had gained an unexpected boost.
He had burned a few more rounds dialing in the drop.
Still, thanks to that I can actually snipe now.
Compared to genuine sniping the word was almost laughable, yet it would paint a very different picture from the close-quarters fights so far.
Winning alone was never the goal; the broadcast had to be entertaining. In that light, the choice had been a good one.
All right. Time to hunt.
Yeon-woo melted into the trees.
Jang Ju-won and Lee Min-hyeong had been maintaining an uneasy partnership ever since the kill logs began appearing.
“Bae Shin-woo actually betrayed us…”
“We can’t jump to that conclusion. Player 7’s kill log popped up right after, so there must have been circumstances.”
“At least between the two of us, let’s keep faith for today.”
“You even gave me the laser sight from the mission reward. I’ve no intention of turning on you here. If we fight, we do it fair and square tomorrow.”
Just then the smartwatch vibrated.
Zing—
Player 1 has eliminated Player 5. (Hits: 2)
“Wow, Kang Hak-joon’s really something. That leaves four of us.”
“Us two, plus Player 1 and Player 7. Four, yes.”
After the baffling sequence in which Bae Shin-woo eliminated Yang Ho-seong only to be eliminated himself by Player 7, two more kill logs had appeared—both courtesy of Player 1, Kang Hak-joon, who had taken out the remaining contestants from the other lodge.
“The match will end soon. Let’s put some distance between us.”
“Agreed. We can’t start tomorrow by shooting each other point-blank.”
Tomorrow’s starting positions would be wherever they stood when today’s match ended, so the two men decided to peel off in opposite directions to avoid an immediate close-quarters fight at dawn.
Neither fully trusted the other; they kept eyes locked and backed away without ever turning their backs.
Once a reasonable gap had opened, a strange noise reached Lee Min-hyeong’s ears.
It sounded like someone who had never learned to whistle trying to force air through pursed lips.
Whissh—
Ting—
Something struck the chest protector on his upper body.
A bullet…?!
He still had no idea where it had come from, yet the sound of air being sliced kept coming.
What? Where?!
Whissh—
Ting-ting—
Three hits later, Lee Min-hyeong stared in disbelief toward the direction the rounds had flown from.
Far off, a dense, shadowed stretch of forest.
He shot from there…? No—the range shouldn’t allow it, and there was no gunshot. This is just… sniping!
He couldn’t even begin to guess the method. And, right on cue, the smartwatch chimed to announce his elimination.
Zing—
Player 7 has eliminated Player 13. (Hits: 3)
The news was just as unbelievable to the man who had not been hit.
What? Four left, and if it wasn’t Player 1, Player 7, or me—then Player 13 is Lee Min-hyeong!
Only moments earlier they had been talking, then deliberately putting distance between themselves for tomorrow’s match.
In a few minutes they should have been reunited at the lodge. Instead, sudden elimination—and without a single audible gunshot.
It was enough to make a ghost weep.
A sudden wave of dread washed over Jang Ju-won. He was just about to duck behind a tree when the smartwatch vibrated again.
Zing—
Current time: 17:00. Day Two of Survival Island has ended.
Our respects to all of you who have survived this far!
Please remain where you are and wait for staff. While you wait, a brief status report:
Most Kills:Player 7 (7 Kills)
Undefeated:1 player
Scoreless:0 players
The player with the most kills—and the sole undefeated contestant—stepped into the lodge.
The previous evening the place had been packed; now the open door revealed only emptiness, almost desolate.
He had just set his bag and rifle on the floor when a knock sounded outside.
Knock-knock—
“Yes?”
Yeon-woo opened the door to find Yoon Chang-joon and a cameraman waiting.
“Actor Ryu. Are you injured anywhere?”
“Ah, no. I’m fine.”
“First, I apologize that we couldn’t approve the ammunition request. At the time we put it to a vote among the managers of the remaining contestants. One yes, seven no—so we were unable to issue extra rounds.”
Yeon-woo gave a short, dry laugh at the PD’s words.
Then the single yes vote was obviously Min-su hyung. He must have fought a lonely battle all by himself.
He hadn’t received extra ammunition, but it hardly mattered.
In the end everything would be edited and return to him as the hearts of viewers rooting for him.
Yeon-woo swung the lodge door wide and gestured for Yoon Chang-joon to come inside.
“I see. Come in and talk, then. You’re here for an interview?”
“Ah, yes. Exactly. We’ll just grab a quick interview inside.”
Yeon-woo watched the camera director following the PD in and allowed a faint smile.
The flower of any survival program was the interview.
He looked around the lodge that only yesterday had bustled with six people.
For the duration of the interview, it seemed he would need to slip into character for a while.
A man quietly grieving for the contestants who had been hunted down by a cowardly alliance—and, beneath that surface, a silent judge seething at justice trampled underfoot.
The grand narrative that makes people go wild for a champion… the third act is always the revenge match.