This was the first time a question that should have been filled with love and concern took a sharp turn into a life-and-death challenge. It wasn’t my life, but the lives of the people in this building. Although I never thought about exactly how many Tiger prisoners were here, who would he choose if I said,

"Yes, I'm tired."

Narrowed eyes with a faint smile awaited my answer. Arthemisya, I don't know why you even fell for that monster of a man, but I'll try to live differently from you.

My slight nod calmed Tiger's expression. "Yeah, I'm tired."

I glanced at Tiger's fingers, dangling and fidgeting nervously. He gritted his teeth, then nodded firmly. "Okay, honey. Get some rest."

"Wait!" I forced Tiger, who had just turned his back, to face me. His eyebrows rose brightly, as if expecting me to change my mind.

"Which floor?" I asked. Tiger's gaze turned lazy.

"You never wanted to know," Tiger replied. Now only one brow furrowed. He crossed his arms, a smile on his face.

"If you're thinking of ending our hell by going to the police or letting the world know, remember we're going down together, honey. Again, I didn’t want this, but you started it and paved the way for me," Tiger warned.

My saliva felt like it carried a large rock at the base of my throat. "Have I ever wanted to end this before?"

"Hmm…" Tiger held his chin and shook his head. "That's because you always finish what you start. Ah, remember! You said it yourself: finished doesn’t mean over," he said, turning around and walking toward the elevator. The elevator doors closed, and Tiger and I stared blankly at each other. The cube machine then lowered the monster I was raising.

I ended up completely stunned, curled up in a blanket that was supposed to keep me warm but instead wrapped me in a storm of anxiety. I thought life would be easy, but it turned out to be a tragedy.

My thumbnail peeled as I thought about Tiger executing someone. I wanted to stop him. I didn’t mind having sex with him tonight, and it would be a win for both parties. I’d enjoy it, and someone would be safe tonight. The problem was my heart. My feelings were starting to get greedy; I wanted Tiger to enjoy it too because he loved me. And our love would never be perfectly maintained because Tiger would only have sex with me when his murderous urge struck.

What should I do? Oh, Arthemisya… I genuinely don’t want to continue living this hell. I think you want the same. However, it takes courage. Therefore, let’s try to find a way. First, I will restrain myself. Second, wait… how many prisoners are in this building? I need data to have an idea of how to save them. At least delay the execution, whatever it takes.

My gaze wandered around Arthemisya’s room, eventually landing on the drawer beside the sledgehammer. After rising from the dead, I felt something strange, like a whisper telling me to pay attention. For example, I became aware of something inside the drawer. My fingers pulled out the three medium-sized drawer boxes one by one. Surprisingly, the bottom third box contained a journal.

The first page held a jumble of random scribbles in red and black ink. The name Tiger Letto was, of course, written on it. The following pages surely had that name engraved on them as well.

"18 bloody years. Kill or be killed. Tiger had to live no matter what. I made Tiger his parents’ killer. Haha. Does that matter now? We're together. No, there’s something more important. Tiger continues to live as a true killer. More than that, only I can control him. This is perfect. He’s willing to make my dream of becoming a singer come true."

"Tiger must be bound to me, forever. Life and death."

"The day before my first mega concert, Tiger again told me to cancel the concert and retire. Why? What is he facing? This is insane. Can’t I live with both? Tiger and my career. Both are equally important parts of my life."

"Looks like I have to choose. Tiger, that monster… how do I paralyze him? Paralyze someone you love…"

My brow furrowed. It seemed Tiger had already known and read Arthemisya’s journal because in thick cursive handwriting, unlike Arthemisya’s tiny, ant-sized letters, he replied to her outpouring of emotion:

"There is only one way; we die together."

Could that be why Arthemisya seemed so distraught that her scandal became known to me? She desperately wanted to end it all, but finishing what she had started with Tiger was difficult. Arthemisya loved him so much that she molded him into who he is now to keep him alive.

I must find out why Tiger ordered Arthemisya to retire. It’s a turning point in her plans. Sooner or later, Tiger will surely order me to do the same again. This means I must save my life and fall completely into Tiger’s hands.

Suddenly, a bell rang, followed by a pre-programmed Siri voice, like something out of a survival game. Honestly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

Unit 35 executed.

Two deaths happened just hours apart. I clenched my blanket tightly, suppressing the growing guilt. I convinced myself I wasn’t a hero and there was nothing I could have done.

As I opened the journal’s final page, the elevator dinged. The doors opened automatically, revealing Tiger in a tattered white shirt soaked in blood. His satisfied smile washed over me.

The dagger fell haphazardly into the elevator while its owner rushed toward me. Tiger leaned forward and kissed me passionately. Blood streaked my cheeks, and a fishy smell assaulted my senses. The kiss seemed brief. Unconsciously, I glanced down at the last page of the book.

Tiger always ends his killing ritual with a kiss and a playful question.

"Did I do well?"

And the game will continue if he is not satisfied.