I stood there, in the middle of the empty room, for a long time. The silence was deafening.

Five million won. The number spun in my head. It was a wall. Unclimbable.

All my efforts at the academy, the humiliations, the fights... for what? To earn a few hundred points when I needed millions. It was a joke. A cruel joke.

A dry, joyless laugh escaped my throat.

I fell to my knees. The pain in my ribs exploded, but I barely felt it. It was nothing compared to the pain in my chest.

I had failed.

I had promised to save her. I had gone to this academy of monsters, I had endured it all for her. And I had failed.

The rage from last night, the hatred for Yoo-Na and her group, it all vanished, replaced by a much worse feeling: powerlessness. The same powerlessness I felt before entering Apex. Nothing had changed. I was still the same weak, useless boy.

I looked down at my hands. Empty hands.

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms.

No.

Not yet.

I couldn't give up. Not now.

I got back up, staggering. I grabbed my terminal.

There had to be a way. In this crazy academy, with its quests and its points, there had to be a way to make that much money quickly. A suicide mission. An impossible quest. Anything.

I opened the mission board. I scrolled through the quests, my eyes desperately searching for the biggest reward, the most dangerous one.

And then I saw it.

A special quest, in a separate category, marked in bright red.

[Ivory Circle Special Request]

[Title: Sparring Partner for the Pit]

[Description: Seeking a durable fighter to serve as a personal punching bag. Must be able to take hits without complaining.]

[Reward: 5,000,000 won.]

The name of the quest issuer was displayed just below.

Kang Yoo-Na.

I stared at the screen, Yoo-Na's name glowing like an insult.

Was this a coincidence? No. There were no coincidences in this world.

She knew. Somehow, she knew about my mother. She knew I was desperate. That's why she posted this quest. It wasn't an offer. It was a trap. A leash she was holding out to me.

"Sparring partner." "Personal punching bag." "Take hits without complaining."

The words were a calculated humiliation. She wasn't asking me to fight. She was asking me to sell myself. To become her toy, her thing, in exchange for my mother's life.

The taste of bile rose in my throat. The hatred returned, stronger, purer.

But hatred wouldn't pay the bills. Pride wouldn't save my mother.

I looked at the reward again. 5 million won. The exact amount.

It was my only choice. The only path available to me.

I remembered her words in the boiler room. "Know your place, you piece of trash."

She wanted me to be her punching bag? Fine.

She wanted me to take it without complaining? Okay.

I would accept her quest. I would take her money. I would save my mother.

And then...

Then, I would become strong enough to destroy her world. I would make her regret the day she decided to play with me.

My hand, which had been shaking with rage and despair, steadied. With a sharp, precise movement, I pressed the button.

[Accept Special Quest?]

Yes.

[Quest accepted. Please report to Basement 7 on Monday at 10:00 PM.]

The game had changed. I wasn't a pawn anymore. I was a time bomb. And the countdown had just begun.

Monday. I had two days. Two days to find my mother and make sure the hospital didn't give up on her.

I left the apartment, the hospital note clutched in my hand. Despair had given way to a cold determination.

My first stop was the apartment next door, Mrs. Park's, an old woman who had known my mother for years.

I knocked on her door. She opened it, her wrinkled face lighting up with a smile when she saw me, before it turned to concern.

"Ji-Hoon-ah! Look at you, you're all hurt! That school is too hard for you!"

"Mrs. Park," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "My mother... do you know where they took her?"

Her face turned sad. "Oh, you poor thing. The paramedics came yesterday morning. She wasn't breathing well. They said they were taking her to Seoul National University Hospital. It's the best, but it's so expensive..."

Seoul National University Hospital. SNUH. I knew where it was.

I thanked her and left before she could ask any more questions about my injuries.

I didn't have money for a taxi. I took the bus, then the subway. The journey felt like an eternity. Every minute that passed was another minute my mother was alone, in critical condition.

The hospital was a huge complex, a maze of buildings and corridors. I went straight to the front desk, my heart pounding.

"I'm looking for my mother, Kang Seo-Yeon," I told the receptionist, trying to hide my anxiety.

She typed the name into her computer. She frowned.

"She's in the intensive care unit, Building 3, 12th floor. But visitation is strictly regulated. And..." she hesitated, her gaze becoming more compassionate. "...there's the matter of the outstanding fees. You should go to the billing department first."

The billing department. The wall.

I nodded, thanked her, and headed for Building 3. I wasn't going to see the accountants. I was going to see my mother. No matter what.

The ICU was another world. A world of silence, steady beeps, and palpable tension. The air smelled of clean and sick.

I found her room. There was a small window in the door. I approached, my heart in my throat.

She was there. Lying in the bed, even paler than I remembered. She was hooked up to half a dozen machines I'd never seen before. A breathing tube was attached to her face.

She looked so fragile. So small.

A nurse saw me standing at the door. She came out.

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't stay here. This is a sterile area."

"She's my mother," I said, my voice broken. "How... how is she?"

The nurse looked at me with pity. "Her condition is stable for now, but it's critical. The new treatment is our only hope, but we can't start it without authorization from the finance department."

The same story. Money. Always money.

"Can I... can I talk to her? Just for a minute?"

She hesitated, then sighed. "She's heavily sedated. She probably won't hear you. But... okay. One minute. No more."

She let me in. I had to put on a gown and a mask.

I walked to the bed. I took her hand. It was cold.

"Eomma," I whispered, my voice muffled by the mask. "It's me. Ji-Hoon."

"I'm here. I'm going to fix this. I promise."

"Hold on. Just a little longer. Please, hold on."

I squeezed her hand. I wanted to transfer my strength, my determination to her.

The nurse touched my shoulder. "It's time, sir."

I nodded. I let go of her hand and left the room without looking back.

I knew what I had to do. Monday night couldn't come soon enough.

I walked out of the hospital, my heart as heavy as a stone. The afternoon sun felt too cheerful, almost insulting. I was lost in thought, my gaze fixed on the sidewalk, when I bumped into someone.

"Oh, sorry," I muttered, not even looking up.

"Watch where you're going, young man. You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

The voice was soft, amused, and incredibly seductive. I looked up.

The woman standing in front of me was stunning. She wore an elegant red dress that highlighted her more than generous curves. She had long, wavy black hair, a bright smile, and eyes that sparkled with intelligence. She looked about ten years older than me.

"I... I'm sorry, Ma'am," I stammered, suddenly feeling very awkward.

She laughed. A rich, melodic laugh. "Ma'am? Call me 'Noona'. You look like you could use a break. A sad face like yours shouldn't be left alone."

She took a step toward me, and my gaze was involuntarily drawn to her chest. It was huge. It was the first thing you noticed, impossible to ignore. I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks grow hot.

She seemed to notice, and her smile widened. "See? You need a distraction. Come on. I know a place nearby where we can have some tea and forget our troubles for an hour. It's my treat."

She didn't wait for my answer. She gave me a wink and started walking, her confidence and her walk capturing everyone's attention.

I didn't know why, but instead of refusing, I followed her. Anything was better than going back to my empty apartment.