<
; "Let's play a little thought experiment. Imagine this: all 48 of you are packed into a single room. Then, someone among you breaks a rule—but the other 47 can't identify who it was. What would you do? Think about it. What if that one person was selfish, and above your heads, hundreds of spikes were slowly descending from the ceiling? The rule is simple: eliminate the source of the mistake. So, what would you do?"
A girl in the far-left corner of the room raised her hand and spoke up.
"In that case, we could try having everyone observe the person next to them. If anyone notices strange or suspicious behavior, they could raise their hand and report it."
A boy from the back-right corner of the room raised his hand and responded:
"What if we had everyone vote on who they suspect?"
A boy seated two rows up from the front on the right side immediately raised his hand in protest.
"Hold on—what about justice, huh?! Are you saying we just randomly vote? What do you think the person who gets the most votes—when they didn't even do anything—will feel like?!"
Time passed, but the room remained in chaos. Arguments flared up repeatedly—
Some talked about drawing lots.
Others suggested choosing the weakest person.
Some fell silent, paralyzed by fear.
There were those who said it didn't matter who got punished—as long as it wasn't themselves.
Others objected that punishing someone at random was plainly wrong.
Every possible reaction unfolded in that brief span of time.
And then, suddenly...
a small hand slowly rose from the far left corner of the room.
A faint, trembling voice—barely audible.
"…I think… we shouldn't choose to eliminate anyone at all…"
Every pair of eyes turned toward her. She is
A small girl with pale skin and long light pink hair. She lowered her gaze, avoiding everyone's stares, but still continued to speak.
"If we get rid of someone… even though we don't even know for sure whether they really did anything wrong… then we're no different from the ones doing something wrong ourselves…"
She clenched her fists tightly, struggling to take a deep breath.
"Maybe… the person who made the mistake is just too scared to admit it…
But if all of us are kind enough… maybe they'll find the courage to come forward on their own…"
The room fell silent for a moment.
Some scoffed. Some sighed.
But some looked at her with new eyes.
<
; "You fragile little saplings… listen closely, you naive children.
The world is not fair—
and it never was.
You were simply raised to believe in fairness,
so that you'd be easier to control.
Now picture yourselves as tender shoots just breaking through the soil.
Look around—dozens, hundreds of shoots, all seemingly the same.
Harmless, right?
But when fertilizer is spread,
not every sprout gets the same.
Some grow faster because they get more.
Some snatch it from others.
Some are simply lucky—born in the spot where the fertilizer falls.
So tell me—how will you know…
who among them is cheating?"
The instructor's voice remained flat—calm, cold, unhurried—yet carried an eerie pressure that seemed to seep into the very air.
; "And if someone—one among you—makes a mistake...
causes the fertilizer to run dry,
causes some sprouts to wither and die...
but you can't find the one responsible...
Then what will you do? Cry?
Beg them to come forward?
Child...
The truth is, no one admits guilt without pressure.
No one steps forward unless they fear death.
So the simplest way... is to create scarcity.
Starve them.
Make every sprout fight for every drop.
Make them fear one another.
And then you wait —
One will slip.
One will start to steal.
And all you have to do... is follow the trail — to the root.
Listen well —
Chaos is a tool.
Uncovering the truth doesn't require morality.
Truth doesn't grow from virtue.
It erupts from fear, confusion… and betrayal."
A faint sound interrupted the broadcast—like rainfall... or perhaps the quiet breath of the system itself.
; "Don't get the wrong idea, children.
I'm not teaching you to be cruel...
I'm teaching you to survive.
Because the outside world doesn't give points for kindness.
It only offers cracks—
cracks for those who can see the truth,
and aren't afraid to seize it.
Trust is a luxury.
Compassion is wasted fertilizer.
And gentleness... will be uprooted."
Eliza turned to look at Rain, who was idly tracing circles on the desk with his finger. She leaned in and whispered just loud enough for him to hear:
"This is getting kind of weir..."
Rain looked back at Eliza and replied under his breath, while the instructor's voice from the speaker continued to echo through the room:
"Yeah... You think so?"
; "Then let's test it out — just hypothetically, of course.
Suppose that last night… one of you did something sneaky,
lurking in the corner of the room
with a few things they quietly stole —
from the cafeteria… and the library.
And it just so happens…
that child is sitting among you right now.
So tell me —
how will you find them?"
The voice from the speaker dropped in pitch,
with a chill that crawled along the spine.
; "It's time…
for you to choose.
Who is guilty?
Or will you let everyone
be punished —
just because no one dares to speak a name?"
Silence.
Then the sound of a mechanism clicking softly —
tick
tick
— echoed from every student's collar.
Thin metal needles slowly rose…
right beneath each of their chins.
There was a moment of stillness.
Then came the final voice —
not a question, but a command.
With the tone of a smirk.
; "Now then…
It's time to choose.
Who is the guilty one?
Or will you all suffer,
because not a single one of you had the courage…
to make a choice?"
On the massive screen at the front of the room…
a countdown began.
60
59
58…
No one moved.
Not a breath, not a whisper.
All eyes fixed on the screen.
On the numbers.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The soft sound of metal needles brushing against collar locks echoed across the room —
a noise so subtle, it shouldn't have been heard,
yet it thundered in every child's mind.
Rain could feel it —
his collar had turned ice-cold.
The needle beneath his chin…
hovered less than a centimeter from his skin.
One wrong move — even a twitch —
and it could pierce through him.
No one dared to speak.
No one turned to look at one another.
No one even dared to swallow.
Then...
a voice rose from the back row.
"I think... we should start checking everyone's belongings."
It was the voice of a stocky boy, slightly messy hair, small eyes.
The number on his collar read A5-038-BX.
A boy who rarely spoke but strictly followed the rules.
He slowly stood up, raising both arms carefully,
as if fully aware that every movement had its price.
"Why don't Search everyone..? Check all their pockets and shake them out.
The stuff from the dining hall is limited.
If anyone sneaked anything in, it has to be somewhere on their person…"
His voice trembled slightly at the end—
whether from fear or anger, no one could tell.
"Or do we have to all die first?"
The countdown continued: 41... 40... 39...
Rain felt his heart pounding erratically.
He glanced at the girl beside him—a small, shy girl.
Her face was pale, lips trembling as she slowly raised her hands to rest on her lap.
The eyes of the entire room began to shift toward her.
Something was wrong.
Another boy immediately pointed at her.
"Hey... why don't you just standing up?"
Voices grew harsher.
Anxious tones emerged, one by one.
The pressure spread like wildfire through dry grass.
"Get up and open your jacket and skirts pockets! Or are you the one who did it?"
"Tell us!"
"Yeah, is it you!?"
Shouts crashed down.
The small girl trembled even more.
Her hands clenched tightly on her lap, but she couldn't speak or move.
Her body was frozen, as if nailed down by fear.
Tears began to fall even though no one had touched her—not even a strand of her hair.
The countdown continued...
32
31
30...
Rain pressed his lips together tightly.
He wanted to say something—
wanted to stop it—
wanted to help that girl.
But deep inside, he was afraid too—afraid of punishment.
In a room of 48 people—no one was safe,
simply because no one had been "chosen" yet.
The small girl raised her trembling hand slightly.
Her lips pressed tight for a moment before slowly opening.
She was about to say something...
but before a sound escaped—
"Stop!"
Rain's voice suddenly cut through the tension.
He didn't even understand why he said it.
His legs moved instinctively to stand in front of the girl.
The entire room snapped their attention to him.
Rain's collar still trembled slightly from the sudden movement,
but he stood there—steadier than before.
"She hasn't done anything yet," he said calmly.
"Yet she's about to take the blame without any proof."
A5-038-BX immediately frowned.
"Why are you defending her? Are you involved too?"
The tone shifted into accusation.
Rain didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked back at the girl.
He noticed her hands still clenched tightly on her lap, but she wasn't trying to do anything harmful.
Her eyes avoided his gaze—not because she feared accusation,
but because she feared... perhaps someone in this very room.
"It's not her…" Rain whispered. "She's afraid of someone else."
"Because if she were the one who did it, she wouldn't hesitate like this. She'd be afraid for her life, not afraid of someone's gaze in the room."
Another boy spoke up,
"How do you even know that?"
The room fell silent for a moment.
Rain's words made some glance at each other warily.
A sense of suspicion spread like toxic fog in the cramped classroom.
"There's someone who did wrong but threw their fear onto others."
"And now, we're about to play right into their game."
The numbers on the screen kept counting down…
22
21
20…
"…We have to think faster, before that needle silences us all."