Reunion
Yeon-woo used a Life Recovery Ticket, restoring his remaining lives to five.
He had only taken a single hit, so if the other teams had known, they might have beaten the ground in frustration at the waste of such a precious recovery ticket. But for Yeon-woo, Life Recovery Tickets were something he had in surplus.
I still had two left even after handing one out to each teammate — and finishing off the Brazilian team just now earned me another.
From here on, only the top-tier teams remained. A single life could mean the difference between survival and elimination.
Recovering lives was only possible when you had the breathing room to do it. In a chaotic free-for-all like the one just now, where neither side could afford to let their guard down, even a mountain of items was useless.
Better to use them early.
Incidentally, the points Yeon-woo had earned by taking out the Brazilian team leader brought his total to 11p. Since Kim Su-hyeok had landed the finishing shot, his points would be at 6p.
Yeon-woo organized his thoughts as he walked toward Kim Su-hyeok, who was waving him over in greeting.
Right now, the item I need most is Additional Ammo Resupply.
He had only acquired one of those early in the game, and that was it. Kim Su-hyeok's sniper rifle had burned through a considerable number of rounds, and the firefight in the cornfield just now had wasted plenty more.
"Team Leader Ryu."
By the time Yeon-woo reached him, Kim Su-hyeok was already calling out and extending a fist. For a man who rarely showed emotion, that gesture spoke volumes — pure, unfiltered welcome.
Yeon-woo bumped his gloved fist against Su-hyeok's, then spoke.
"Whew. Perfect timing. I was just checking the operation pad and heading your and Team Leader Park's way."
Hearing that, Kim Su-hyeok filled him in on what had just happened.
"Glad to hear it. I kept hearing gunfire nearby and figured two other teams were fighting it out. I climbed a tall tree to get a better look at the situation and map out their movements — then your kill log came through."
Realizing the gunfire he'd been hearing was his own team leader in combat, Su-hyeok had sprinted over to provide support. As the shots drew closer and it became clear someone was about to break out of the cornfield, he had simply set up position and prepared to fire.
Yeon-woo asked the question that had been nagging at him.
"How did you know which of the two people running out was me? We were both wrapped head to toe in defensive gear. Hard to tell us apart, right? The colors were almost identical."
Kim Su-hyeok tilted his head with a look that said, What kind of question is that?
"Sir? You two looked completely different. Height, aura, physique, proportions, vibe…"
"Ah…"
If left alone, he would clearly keep listing differences forever.
Hmm. If we keep running black ops together as Omega, is he going to figure out my identity eventually?
Realistically speaking, no one would look at a tall, long-legged collaborator on a joint operation and immediately suspect a famous actor was hiding his identity for secret missions. That was absurd.
But during the filming of Global Match, Kim Su-hyeok and Park Jung-hyeon had spent days fighting right beside him — watching his gait, his shooting style, every habitual movement that surfaced in combat. If Yeon-woo continued operating under a secret identity and their missions kept overlapping in the field, those familiar patterns might start to catch their eye. The suspicion would grow.
Through multiple operations, the three agents had proven they would stake their lives on a shared cause. The trust was solid enough now. And among them, Kim Su-hyeok was a bond that stretched back through his previous life — in some ways, as reliable as Han Hae-un himself.
That still didn't mean Yeon-woo had the slightest intention of casually announcing, I'm the reincarnated Alpha-Beta.
Even if he did dump such an unscientific, outlandish story on them, the only person on Earth who would believe it was Han Hae-un — the one who had reincarnated alongside him.
If I'm going to keep operating as Omega, I need to figure out how to handle my identity soon. I should talk it over with Hae-un.
Yeon-woo sorted his thoughts and quickly changed the subject.
"Let's go find Team Leader Park first."
"Understood. How far is he from here?"
"About three hundred meters."
After that, they reunited with Park Jung-hyeon without incident.
He had faithfully carried out Yeon-woo's final order to head north. Using the sun's altitude and position, the angle of shadows, and the growth rings of trees, he had calculated true north and arrived at the northernmost tip of the island.
A thoroughly steadfast man. Told to head north, he had gone all the way to the northernmost point and waited quietly.
"Do the other teams get these kinds of annoying items too?"
Looking at Park Jung-hyeon's expression, he seemed about as irritated as Yeon-woo. Having your actions constrained by someone else and being dragged off to an unknown location was an unpleasant experience for anyone — that much was obvious.
"I wonder who used it, though. Our win probability was rated the highest, so any team still on the field would have used it on us."
The other two nodded at Yeon-woo's words.
In the broadcast control room, every item use was logged and displayed, so the production staff knew exactly who had done what. Yeon-woo and his teammates had no way of knowing. They could only speculate.
"Looking at how high they set the win probabilities for the Italian team — who barely showed any kill logs — and the Japanese team, who only took out one person here and there… I'd say it's one of those two. Their items would have factored into those probability ratings."
Both men nodded, finding the reasoning sound.
Whichever of the two it was, Yeon-woo considered it good news either way.
Italy, I just don't like because of Marco Banchero.
The memory of that greasy-looking mustached man's unpleasant stare surfaced unbidden. Not in any romantic sense between men — more like…
The hunger of a hunter who sees me as prey and is determined to take the kill.
His nickname was the Hunter of Europe. A man who had essentially abandoned his day job as a singer, picked up a single rifle, and made a hobby of disappearing into the vast forests beneath the Alps — or into the extreme wilderness of the Arctic, the Kamchatka Peninsula, Greenland. The documentaries filmed by the crew that followed him had been popular enough even in Korea to give him genuine global recognition as a hunter.
As Global Match progressed, Yeon-woo had come to believe that if he ended up in a final showdown with anyone, Italy was the most likely opponent. Aside from Yeon-woo himself, they were the only team where the team leader's presence loomed larger than his teammates'.
On the other hand, if Japan had been the one to use the penalty item, no further explanation was needed.
It's not like I personally harbor some deep grudge against Japan…
Historically speaking, of course — hearing the story of Yu Gwan-sun filled him with righteous fury, and going further back, watching Admiral Yi Sun-sin's battles made his chest swell with pride. He was Korean, after all.
But during his years as an operative, the people he had cooperated with surprisingly well on the international stage — exchanging intelligence sources, occasionally proving genuinely useful — had often been Japanese agents. So he didn't carry any particularly deep personal hostility.
But national sentiment is a real thing.
Thinking of the Korean audience who would eventually watch Global Match, Japan was an opponent that absolutely had to be eliminated. In a way, even if winning the whole thing became impossible, getting eliminated by the Japanese team was the one outcome that had to be avoided at all costs.
If we lose a fight against Japan, it would be worse than never appearing on this show at all.
And if this penalty card turned out to be Japan's doing, a little extra animosity would probably find its way into the mix.
When one hour and thirty minutes remained until the next strategy window, the Japanese team's position appeared on Yeon-woo's operation pad without fail.
"Ah. They've moved farther away."
Whether they had decided their original position was no longer viable for an ambush, or whether the gunfire from Yeon-woo's fight had made them nervous about their location, they had relocated a considerable distance.
Hmm, no — they would have had a predetermined destination either way. Their expected position at the start of the game was probably near the cornfield where I fought the Brazilians.
Which meant Japan had likely taken out one of the Brazilian team members not long after the game began. The Brazilians had lost one man to Japan, wandered the cornfield, and then been finished off by Yeon-woo.
So assuming they're advancing in their current direction, at a distance of one kilometer… hmm, around here?
Yeon-woo shook his head with a regretful expression.
"The Japanese team's likely destination is too far from here. Getting there, fighting, and making it back to our own objective would leave us too short on time."
"We'll take it slow. If we're going to win, we'll run into them eventually. Another team might take them out first, but that doesn't really matter either."
Yeon-woo nodded at Kim Su-hyeok's words.
It was still only day two. Compared to the previous show, Survival Island, the battlefield was vastly larger, and with everyone moving in teams, far fewer fights were breaking out than expected.
From a program director's perspective, this might actually be more efficient. Fewer battles, but each one substantial enough to make editing easy.
This could stretch into three days. Maybe even four.
Then the sky began to darken, and raindrops started to fall — one by one at first.
Thud-thud—
And then, as if someone had overturned a bucket, an enormous volume of rain came crashing down in an instant.
"Looks like a squall! Let's get under a big tree and wait it out!"
Yeon-woo nodded at Kim Su-hyeok's shout. Even standing right next to each other, they had to raise their voices — the rain was hammering into the ground that hard.
A squall, the localized torrential downpour of tropical rainforest regions, intensified with terrifying speed. From the first light drops to this absolute deluge had taken barely twenty seconds.
As if trying to cool the heat of a battlefield that had been burning white-hot, the rain filled the entire world.
A total of 5 teams remain. Congratulations to all survivors!
Inside the helicopter bound for the hotel, Yeon-woo stared blankly at his operation pad.
After the squall hit, the match had ended with no further gains. Yeon-woo and Kim Su-hyeok had eliminated Brazil. The Italian team had eliminated Switzerland. In the process, one Italian teammate had gone down. Beyond that, no other kill logs had appeared.
With five teams remaining, a team leader would likely be added tomorrow through a losers' revival match.
The rules are definitely going to change starting tomorrow.
If tomorrow ran under the same rules in this situation, there would be so little combat that there was no telling how long it would take to determine a winner. Yeon-woo and his teammates were actively hunting enemies — the so-called "Lu Bu playstyle" of seeking out fights rather than avoiding them — and even then, finding other teams across this vast terrain was extraordinarily difficult.
Will they restrict the play area?
The first thing that came to mind was a famous online survival game. That game solved this exact dilemma by shrinking the playable zone over time.
Hmm. In real life, it's hard enough just figuring out where you are. Even if they restrict the arena, could people actually stay inside the boundary?
They would probably find some other way to force more combat.
Sorting through these thoughts as they arrived at the hotel, Yeon-woo could feel a new system in place the moment he set foot inside — thanks to the massive, glittering structure installed in the lobby.
Following a path of red carpet, he found an enormous door so heavily adorned with luxurious gold plating it bordered on excessive.
Yeon-woo recalled the message the production team had sent.
You have successfully survived for 777 minutes!
If you remain alive until today's match concludes, you will be able to purchase various items with your points.
Reading that message, Yeon-woo had hoped he would be able to buy additional ammunition.
"Hmm. So that's why they congratulated us for surviving 777 minutes."
777. Hotel. The keyword both pointed to was, of course, "casino."
I doubt they'll make us gamble with points, though. Maybe there's some kind of random element involved in purchasing items.
Yeon-woo looked up at the enormous sign mounted above the luxurious door.