“TeSTAR is trapped in the dorm before moving out.
And... at last, at the front door reached by opening the inner gate, a flashing panel appeared.
The moment I read that, I understood.
Someone here would be eliminated.
‘So this is a survival format.’
They want us to vote among ourselves to choose one profession as a sacrifice?
My brain tingled at the thrill. I nodded, raising my estimate of Ryu Seorin’s planning.
‘Wait—if we split up like this to vote...’
We don’t know who holds which profession, we can’t communicate with the other side.
No shouting, no tricks, no comic relief—just a dull vote?
‘That can’t be...’
Ah!
I spun around and shouted,
“Hyung!”
“...! What?”
“The walkie-talkie!”
Then I called out beyond the front door, loud enough for the other side to hear.
“Did you find the walkie-talkie? Walkie-talkie!”
[Walkie... talkie? ...Really?!]
[...!]
I faintly heard frantic thumping on the other side.
“...! Are you using the walkie-talkie now? Just press here and speak!”
“Yes, but if you hold the button you can’t hear the response, so keep it short!”
“Got it!”
Bae Sejin raised the walkie-talkie and began to call.
‘If we’re lucky, they’ll hear the static and locate the walkie.’
So this is how we’re meant to discuss by radio which profession to sacrifice?
As I thought that, the panel on the door suddenly updated.
[☜☞]
[Sacrifice selection complete!]
What?
“Uh?”
“Mun Dae hyung? D-did you choose?”
“No way.”
But before I could speak... the door opened.
Click.
“...!!”
The front door was ajar.
And standing just beyond it, catching their breath as if they’d sprinted here with the walkie, were four other TeSTAR members.
Their eyes widened.
“Guys!”
“Mun Dae Mun Dae! Raebin! Hyung!”
“T-thank goodness you’re all here...!”
In that moment, they forgot the game and rushed together like a flock of penguins, delirious as if rescued by family.
“Hyung! We came to save you!”
“Yeah.”
I half-heartedly returned Cha Yoo jin’s hug and counted heads again.
‘All seven are here.’
Yes. More numbers bring more reassurance.
But still—
‘Why did the door open?’
The likeliest explanation was this.
“Did the other side choose the sacrifice profession?”
“Nooope! The door just opened!”
“...!”
Ryu Cheong woo shook his head firmly.
“I thought you chose it. Since we were trapped in the dorm, I figured we had no choice...”
What?
“W-what are you talking about? We were trapped in the dorm!”
“...? Sejin, what—”
Impossible.
I squeezed through the four of them and peered past the front door to the other side.
And gaped in horror.
‘This is insane.’
The other side... was also a dorm!
“Wait, beyond the front door is...”
“Th-this is a dorm too...?”
Those who noticed began to panic, turning their heads back and forth across the threshold.
“Holy moly! There’s a living room!”
“Wow, this is crazy!”
Before I knew it, Cha Yoo jin and Big Sejin had dashed into the living room we’d just escaped from, shouting.
And I stepped over the inner gate threshold onto the other side.
“......”
“It’s exactly the same...”
Oh.
‘So they were trying to escape too?’
Each side had mistaken the other for the outside, but in fact they were dorm A team and dorm B team.
‘What on earth is this place?’
A set, obviously.
Only a set could be disguised so thoroughly—not just props, but the entire house.
“Huh.”
I felt a punch to the gut. I smiled wryly and scanned my surroundings again.
I knew there would be an escape method revealed at the end—there has to be catharsis.
Yet the front entrance itself was fake, arranged as a mirrored double room. It’s a brilliant double locked-room that heightens fear and tension.
‘Then where’s the exit?’
No—first things first.
I turned my head. The others flinched.
“So... neither team has touched or pressed anything on that panel since it showed ‘selection complete,’ right?”
“Right.”
I reached out and pointed to the panel. The message still glowed.
[Sacrifice selection complete!]
“Then why did it say ‘complete’?”
“......”
Big Sejin furrowed his brow thoughtfully, then crossed his arms.
“Maybe it’s part of a profession mission?”
“......!!”
“Like there could be a role in our profession assignment to choose a sacrifice. Think board games?”
That made sense.
Sharp thinking.
“Okay, then let’s ask everyone what their professions are.”
“Ah—about that...”
Just as Big Sejin was about to respond, the panel spoke.
[Participants.]
“Ugh!”
“What the...”
A distorted mechanical voice came from the front-door panel.
‘They packed in a lot of features.’
We rushed to stand before it.
The screen changed, displaying new lines.
[The sacrifice profession has been decided.]
[A mark of fate has been bestowed.]
Against a black background, white letters flashed ominously.
“Is it over already...?”
“What does this mean?”
The air chilled with confusion and dread.
But I was tense for another reason.
Hey, they said the game time limit is three hours.
‘So what are we supposed to do for the next three hours?’
Wouldn’t the tension just fizzle out?
Then—
Click.
A wall beside the front door opened. Something poured out.
“...!”
“Wah!”
Amid the commotion, I checked the items.
‘Cards?’
They looked like poker cards—seven in total.
On each backside was printed a name.
“What are these?”
“A QR code?”
“Wait.”
I nudged the others.
The panel’s message wasn’t finished.
[Among the 7 cards, one belongs to the participant with the sacrifice profession.]
The screen showed seven cards flipping, then one enlarged, its face stamped with a crimson mark.
A sheep skull.
[That is the sacrifice’s mark.]
“......”
This is serious.
[You may exchange this ‘mark card’ for three hours.]
[At game end, the participant holding the mark card becomes the final sacrifice.]
On screen, the cards shuffled like a shell game, then flipped one by one, backsides showing.
The card bearing the crimson sheep skull blinked...
Pop!
It exploded.
[02:59:59]
Only the black screen remained, with a white countdown blinking below.
“......”
I immediately checked my card.
It too had a poker pattern and name on one side, and a QR code on the other.
I tapped the frozen panel.
“How do we make an exchange?”
No further narration appeared—just a new line on the black screen.
[Show the QR code.]
Hmm.
I held the card with the QR code face forward and scanned beside the panel.
‘Is there a scanner here?’
“Mun Dae Mun Dae?”
“Hold on.”
I stopped a few panicking members from grabbing me, then scanned the card’s QR code.
‘What happens?’
The screen changed again.
[Required currency: 1 Gold]
“......”
Gold?
“This doesn’t look like a free exchange.”
“Nope.”
It seems to cost something.
‘Going on a wild card-swap spree would be insane anyway.’
At that moment, Cha Yoo jin shot his hand up.
“I know where it is!”
“...!”
“Wait a second!”
He dashed to the bathroom on his side, yanked open the door, and brought something out in an instant.
“This is Gold!”
It was a gold piece stamped with a QR code.
“...!!”
“Wow—where was it?”
“Under the shelf.”
“Yoo jin, you’re amazing...!”
The others crowded around Cha Yoo jin, showering him with praise.
Then a decisive voice spoke.
“Hmm—there must be more hidden in both dorms, right?”
“Probably.”
If so...
I removed my card from the scanner.
“Then let’s look for Gold first.”
And so the treasure hunt began.
“Mun Dae Mun Dae—didn’t you miss our members?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Big Sejin, still excited, began recounting what happened on their side.
I silently ransacked the living room they’d escaped from.
“Ah—though I don’t know if there’s more here. We tore up this place.”
Looking at the upended sofa, they had indeed searched thoroughly.
I dusted myself off and rose.
Then I remembered what I wanted to say.
“You were about to say something earlier.”
“Hm?”
“Did you ask about everyone’s professions?”
I meant their professions.
‘They haven’t mentioned them yet, even while talking about their ordeal.’
Big Sejin shrugged, as if reading my mind.
“Yeah—that was what I was about to say. We were busy searching so we didn’t get to it.”
“......”
Really? You?
‘Not intentionally avoiding it?’
The show’s best entertainer, skipping the introduction the writers asked for.
But as if reading my thoughts, Big Sejin shrugged again.
“I thought it’d look better when we’re all together... but now it seems like a lie, right?”
“Probably.”
Anyone whose profession is awkward would lie. I nodded.
‘...That’s so like him.’
In this game, you can’t fully trust anyone. I shrugged inwardly and let the conversation drop as I headed toward the kitchen.
“...Park Mundae.”
Bae Sejin approached in a low voice.
“You didn’t get a weird profession, right? You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Hmm.
“But someone with a weird profession would also answer like that, wouldn’t they?”
“Maybe, but you scanned your card immediately. If someone wanted to hide their profession, they’d be too nervous to do that.”
“......”
Sharp observation.
“And you’re good at things like this, so I’m relying on you.”
Bae Sejin swallowed and spoke.
“My profession—‘lawyer.’”
Okay.
“It has a special ability.”
“...What?”
“...‘I can learn other professions’ details.’”
“...!”
“That’s what it said, so I knew what everyone’s professions are.”
Bae Sejin lowered his voice further.
“Raebin said he was a journalist, right?”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“There is no journalist!”
“...!”
“There’s no journalist profession!”
A betrayal I never saw coming.
I replayed Kim Rae bin’s behavior in my mind—no sign of guilty awkwardness.
‘Is Kim Rae bin really that good at lying?’
Even with past variety-show training?
‘I’m starting to suspect Bae Sejin too.’
But hiding it, I widened my eyes in mock shock, then adopted a resolute expression, as if intrigued.
Bae Sejin matched my expression.
“Hyung, could you share the professions you know? I want to list Raebin’s real candidates.”
“Sure. But first... tell me about your ability.”
Good negotiator.
I nodded. As Bae Sejin swallowed, I revealed—
“My ability was a question mark.”
“...?”
No joke.
[Special Ability]
That’s what the profile said.
“I guess they didn’t want to spoil it.”
“Ah.”
If I left it there, I wouldn’t earn full trust.
I added my speculation.
“If this is like Mafia, the doctor usually protects the victim.”
“...!”
“So they might reveal them when someone’s about to be sacrificed.”
“...Makes sense.”
Right.
I hadn’t lost their trust—I gathered Bae Sejin’s list of professions.
‘Doctor, sheriff, detective, scholar, mortician, lawyer... and clown?’
A modern-day lineup.
Very plausible, useful intel.
‘This is a gain.’
If true. I bowed my thanks, and Bae Sejin beamed with pride.
“But if it’s just me sharing, you might not trust it fully... Should I recruit another trustworthy person?”
“Uh? Who...?”
I raised my hand, pointing at the one rifling through our dorm’s kitchen.
Ryu Cheong woo.
Bae Sejin grew urgent.
“...This isn’t about personality, it’s about profession. It’s a show.”
“Exactly.”
That was my point.
I nodded in agreement.
“Think about it, hyung.”
“Yeah?”
“In our own content, Cheong woo was the betrayer last time. The zombie.”
“Right.”
“So by cooldown theory, Cheong woo won’t be it this time.”
“...?!”
“What do you think?”
It would be stale if the same person were chosen twice. Even if random, production wouldn’t let it happen.
‘They’d claim an error and make them redraw.’
My reasoning sounded plausible, and Bae Sejin pumped his fist and agreed.
“...Alright, let’s do it.”
Good.
I sidled over to Ryu Cheong woo and whispered.
“Hyung.”
“Yeah?”
“Come here for a sec.”
We three began to speak quietly, as if searching similar spots.
“Sejin hyung wants an alliance but you have to reveal your profession.”
“I see.”
“We’ve all introduced ours already.”
If you speak up, we form the party.
But Ryu Cheong woo, peering under the table, smiled wryly.
“I... can’t tell. Sorry.”
“...!”
Bae Sejin’s face fell.
“You’re not....”
“Wait, hyung.”
I cut in before he could react.
“You’re not unwilling—you’re unable, right?”
“......”
Ryu Cheong woo gave an ambiguous smile.
‘Of course.’
I nodded and whispered to Bae Sejin.
“Cheong woo hyung seems to have a profession where he can’t directly say what it is.”
“...Ah!”
“If he were Mafia, he’d lie. He wouldn’t refuse to say outright.”
“Ugh....”
Bae Sejin hesitated, then nodded.
“Then... maybe he’s the detective. In detective stories they shine at the end.”
Oh—a solid, show-friendly deduction.
“Then?”
“...Great! Let’s hear it.”
Bae Sejin nodded. I gave Ryu Cheong woo time to explain to Bae Sejin.
And Ryu Cheong woo was impressed.
“He even had that ability. Amazing, Sejin.”
“Ahem, thanks.”
“But like you said, Raebin is definitely suspicious... Right now the urgent thing is that someone will be sacrificed. I want to discuss that too.”
Hmm?
“...Right.”
“If one of us could choose the ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ sacrifice profession directly, which profession would it be?”
That was easy.
I answered without hesitation.
“Detective or clown.”
At the same time, on the internet.
[What did everyone vote for in the Orbit poll?]
Since there are seven options, people think it’s a TeSTAR poll lol
On idol forums, chatter about the Orbit poll exploded.
The word “sacrifice” itself was thrilling, and voting was fun.
Surprisingly, opinions converged.
└ lol just seeing the profession name feels troll-y
“Clown.”
It sounds like the culprit or mastermind.
But many argued the opposite.
As word spread, more people called for detective and doctor.
Shortly after, Orbit Stars’ account posted a new update.
[Voting complete. → View results]
Curious fans clicked to view results—and the link led to a video.
[The game begins now – TeSTAR coming soon]
TeSTAR variety-show trailer.
Fans rejoiced at the long-awaited variety show.
Meanwhile, one fan faced reality.
└ No way
└ Stop
└ Noooo
Fan sites and communities reignited with speculation and excitement.
And in that moment, TeSTAR’s strange filming set burned with a different kind of heat.
“Um, Mun Dae.”
“Hmm?”
“Wanna... swap cards?”
“...!”
The first trade request was made.
