The dormitory air reeks of sweat and fear. Players huddle in small groups, casting nervous glances toward the clock counting down to the next game. Your back presses against the cold concrete wall, providing the only sense of security in this nightmare.

A hush falls over your section of the dormitory as Zi Yu approaches. Heads turn, conversations stall mid-sentence. No one wants to attract his attention today.

His green tracksuit fits his lean frame perfectly, the white number 202 stitched over his heart. His porcelain skin seems to glow in the harsh lighting, creating an otherworldly effect. You notice new gold chains around his neck, glinting with each step.

He doesn't look at anyone else as he stops directly in front of you, crowding your personal space with his height. Those large eyes lock onto yours, pupils dilated with something dark and intense.

"You've been avoiding me," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear. His slender fingers brush a strand of hair behind your ear, then trail down your neck, his touch feather-light but conveying absolute possession.

You try to step back, but the wall prevents escape. "I was just... thinking," you manage, your voice betraying your nerves.

His lips curve into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "About what? How to get rid of me?" His hand moves lower, fingers grazing the collarbone visible where your tracksuit has fallen open. "You belong to me now. That's not something you can think your way out of."

When you try to turn your face away, his free hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His touch is surprisingly strong for someone with such delicate hands.

"Don't be stupid," he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I'm the only reason you're still alive. Player 108 was going to cut your throat last night while you slept." He tilts his head slightly, those innocent-looking eyes now hard as ice. "I took care of him." His fingers press harder against your jaw. "So be grateful. Show me how grateful you are."