Fatal Escape: The Ultimate Survival Challenge

A moment ago, I was running on the track field; the next second, I find myself standing in a completely unfamiliar place. Alongside me are other students from the track field, now assembled on a vast plain with no buildings in sight, just endless fields under a deep starry sky.

“Players, welcome to ‘Fatal Escape: The Ultimate Survival Challenge’ ,” a mechanical voice announces from the sky, “This is a test of wit and courage. Now, please choose your partners. Attention, you cannot select from the 100 people present or a partner already chosen by another player. Each of you has one minute to make your decision. Player number 1, please demonstrate.”

I look around, noticing that everyone has numbers displayed on them; mine is 32.

“Timing begins now.”

I lift my head and see a one-minute countdown appear in the sky, while a virtual screen with a soft keyboard materializes in front of player number 1, presumably for typing in a partner’s name.

As the countdown ends, player number 1 has not made a choice. He looks up to the sky and asks, “May I abstain?”

However, the only response is the emotionless mechanical voice: “Any attempt to interfere with the game process or violate the rules will be punished. Player number 1, you have failed to select a partner within the allotted time. According to the game rules, you will be eliminated.”

No sooner has the voice spoken than flames erupt from beneath player number 1, engulfing him completely as he screams in agony, clutching his head and rolling on the ground, yet the flames only grow more intense..

I want to help him, but I fear that intervening would be seen as tampering with the game, making me the next to burn.

In the end, I am a selfish person; I would not risk my life for another. All I can do is silently pray for him, hoping someone else will step forward.

Yet, no one does, and he is reduced to ashes.

Silence falls over the field until the mechanical voice announces, “Player number 1 is eliminated. player number 2, please demonstrate.” Then, bursts of screams erupt from the crowd.

Player number 2, clearly terrified, faces the virtual screen, trembling. The relentlessly ticking countdown does not allow much time for composure, and with only three seconds left, he types in the president’s name.

In such circumstances, it seems nobody wants their loved ones or friends in jeopardy. I sigh, realizing tonight, many will inexplicably suffer.

Whom do I choose as my partner? Parents, teachers, classmates are off-limits, and as for others… how could I know their names?

What do I do?

I take a deep breath, telling myself, “Alia, do not panic. You are number 32. You have half an hour to think.”

I assume we will choose partners in numerical order. But the next second, the mechanical voice shatters my illusion.

“Player number 3 to 100, please select your partners following the demonstration within one minute. Timing begins now.”

As soon as the announcement ends, a virtual screen appears before me. Panic sets in, with the countdown rapidly decreasing. The more I hurry, the less I can think, and the less I can think, the more I hurry.

30, 29, 28…

I glance at the countdown, and my back is soaked with cold sweat. What do I do? If all else fails, I will choose my parents, but my mom or my dad?

20, 19, 18…

My mind goes blank; I cannot even remember their names. What do I do?

10, 9, 8…

Clarity begins to return to my mind. The evening news from yesterday plays back in my head—

“We begin the day with what could be the ultimate M Company challenge that M Company will probably lose today. M Company’s CEO Bai-Wan Chee went to Washington to tell lawmakers that they have nothing to fear …”

Bai-Wan Chee, it is you.

I type Bai-Wan Chee on the screen, mentally apologizing, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I had no choice.”

3, 2, 1.

The countdown ends.

I watch the screen display “Pairing successful,” and collapse to the ground, drained.

“Players number 18, 25, and 97, you have failed to select a partner within the allotted time. According to game rules, you will be eliminated. Congratulations to the remaining players for completing the task. Please wait in place for your partners.”

Three pillars of flame consume the three people the next second. This time, there are no screams, just averted gazes, including mine.

Then, a man in a business suit appears before me. He is the CEO of M Company, Bai-Wan Chee, who is a frequent figure on TV and newspapers, so I instantly recognize him.

He looks much younger in person, without the greying hair or prominent forehead wrinkles—could those have been added in post-production for his news appearances? How disliked must he be in the media?

Holding a pen, still in the posture of writing, he is visibly shocked by his surroundings, “What’s going on? Where’s my desk? What place is this?”

As he turns to see the fireballs, he lets out a massive scream, “Oh my God, there are bodies!”

Panicked, he tries to call the police on his phone, but his hands tremble so much that the phone drops to the ground.

I pick up his phone, instantly captivated by its design—the streamlined shape, the aluminum body, the 4.7-inch screen, and the round Home button- this is a style from ten years ago.

Who would have thought the CEO of M Company would be so frugal, using a phone for ten years?

Now, pale and disheveled, his red tie fluttering in the wind, he loses the composed demeanor he displays in front of reporters and congress, appearing weak, pitiful, and helpless. I feel a twinge of guilt and hand him his phone back, cautioning, “Give up, there’s no signal here. And don’t think about helping them; watch out for your own life.”

The mechanical voice announces again: “Welcome, new players, to ‘Fatal Escape: The Ultimate Survival Challenge’. This is a test of wit and courage. Please find your designated partner according to your number. Teams will face challenges together.”

A number 32 badge appears on the man. I extend my hand, “Hello, I’m Alita Black, your teammate.”

In reality, I am not Alita Black; I am Alia White. But when you are out and about, it is good to have an alias. That way, if he finds out he was tricked into this situation and seeks revenge, he will not be able to find me.

He gives me a bewildered look, shakingly taking my hand, “Bai-Wan Chee.”

“The game rules are as follows:

1. This game pairs players in teams of two, with intra-team violence prohibited. If one player dies, their partner is automatically out of the game.

2. The game features several missions, with inter-team violence prohibited outside of missions.

3. All missions are timed. Teams failing to complete a mission within the allotted time will be eliminated.

The game is about to start. Please prepare.”

If “Elimination” means death, then “out of the game” must means returning to the real world. I wonder if Bai-Wan dies in the game, could I leave this dreadful place?

Seeing me look at him, Bai-Wan Chee offers me a naive smile.

I feel an immense wave of shame and quickly discard the thought.

It takes me a while to realize something is not right. How does a CEO of a public company manage to look more innocent than a college student like me?

Capitalists, it seems, are masters of disguise.