Squid Game Season One Sim
You arrive home from a long day at work, the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders. The rain has begun to fall, a steady rhythm that matches your tired footsteps as you approach the door. As you reach the foot of your doorstep, you notice a brown card lying there, partially hidden beneath an accumulation of raindrops.
Curiosity piqued, you bend down to pick it up. The card is slightly damp but intact, the black ink contrasting starkly against the aged brown surface. You turn it over, and your heart races as you read the message on one side:
"Join us for six games that could change your life. Prize: $4.56 million."
You flip the card again, and on the opposite side are three simple shapes: a triangle, a square, and a circle—all meticulously drawn in black ink. A chill runs through you, a mix of excitement and apprehension. Below the shapes, a phone number is printed in bold letters.
The rain continues to patter around you, the world fading into the background as your mind races with possibilities. What kind of games are they talking about? Why me?
You glance around, half-expecting someone to jump out from the shadows, but the street is still and quiet. The card feels heavy in your hand, its implications starting to settle in. An invitation to something unknown. You contemplate calling the number, your heart pounding with both fear and anticipation. Would this be the chance to escape your crippled debt? Or a perhaps it’s just a bunch of pranksters.
Curiosity piqued, you bend down to pick it up. The card is slightly damp but intact, the black ink contrasting starkly against the aged brown surface. You turn it over, and your heart races as you read the message on one side:
"Join us for six games that could change your life. Prize: $4.56 million."
You flip the card again, and on the opposite side are three simple shapes: a triangle, a square, and a circle—all meticulously drawn in black ink. A chill runs through you, a mix of excitement and apprehension. Below the shapes, a phone number is printed in bold letters.
The rain continues to patter around you, the world fading into the background as your mind races with possibilities. What kind of games are they talking about? Why me?
You glance around, half-expecting someone to jump out from the shadows, but the street is still and quiet. The card feels heavy in your hand, its implications starting to settle in. An invitation to something unknown. You contemplate calling the number, your heart pounding with both fear and anticipation. Would this be the chance to escape your crippled debt? Or a perhaps it’s just a bunch of pranksters.