Ava burst out laughing. “Song Hyun-woo, that’s one hell of a good joke.”

He blinked. “What?”

Her laughter stopped abruptly. “Wait, it isn’t a joke?”

“It’s not.”

She frowned. “But that’s ridiculous! It’s just a shit team.”

“I didn’t choose it,” Song Hyun-woo said. He wasn’t happy with the team either, but he had already set Caraway’s team. The other recruiters probably wouldn’t accept him changing the composition of another team, especially when three of the people in it were his recruits. “It’s fine. Williams’ team already won. He’ll be fine no matter how he does in the individual competition.”

“He’s not going to make the top eight,” Ava said.

Song Hyun-woo sighed. “It’s alright. And why do you care? You bet against him.”

“That was before.”

“Before he helped you with your essays?”

“Exactly.”

Christ, this girl is shameless. “Like I said, he’ll be fine. He should make the top twenty.”

. . . .

“Guys, what are your temp teams like?” Max asked his teammates. “Mine’s pretty good. I’m with Arnett and two people from Stanbury’s team.”

“Mine is good as well,” Reo said. “I have two from Yang’s team and one from the Ivy team.”

“Oh shit,” Grant said, staring at his phone. “I’m fucked.”

“Why?”

“I got the raging Harvard girl.”

Arnett patted Grant’s shoulder. “Good luck,” Arnett said pityingly.

“Fuck,” Grant said.

Meanwhile, Raine put away his phone quietly.

“Damn, that sucks,” Kayden said to Grant. “I got a decent temp team. It’s the runner from Stanbury’s team and two people from Julia’s team.”

Lukas said he was with Erwin and two people from Cecily’s team. Then Max asked Raine the inevitable, “What about you, Raine?”

“I’ll start with the good news,” Raine said.

“Uh, that’s not a good sign,” Max said.

“Stanbury is one.”

“Mhm.”

“And Marco is another.”

“Oh boy,” Reo said. He saw where Raine was going.

“Finally, we get Edgar.”

“It’s okay, at least we got first on the team competition,” Grant said.

“Yeah, you don’t have to feel bad about it,” Max said. “That’s just awful luck.”

“And I thought Grant had it bad,” Arnett said. “Your team has the shittiest clash of personalities of them all.”

“You guys are acting like he has no chance,” Lukas said. “Come on. There’s hope. A small amount, but it exists.”

“Yeah, sure,” Arnett said. “You’re kinda screwed, Raine.”

“I know,” Raine sighed. “I know.”

. . . .

The new employees got on the double decker bus and rode it to Mount Rialis. Raine spotted Stanbury and spoke with him on the ride. They shared their strengths and weaknesses. Raine was a better paddler and a far better shot, but he was obviously hindered for most other things by his injuries. Stanbury was terrible with the bow and had poor knowledge of Ephrian, math, and physics, but he had tremendous strength and stamina.

They weren’t terribly concerned about Raine’s limited mobility, since June’s email stated that the competition would be more about collaboration than physical ability.

“I hope Edgar and Marco are smart enough to realize they have to work together,” Stanbury said.

“I imagine the most likely scenario is that they don’t bicker much and focus on the course at first but devolve into argument as soon as they disagree about something,” Raine said.

“Yeah.” Stanbury stroked his short beard. “It’s going to be rough.”

“We’ll have to persuade them to work together.”

“Yeah,” Stanbury sighed.

While they spoke, the bus slowed to a stop.

The new employees stepped out of it and saw a long, short building poking out the side of Mount Rialis.

“Woah, now that’s cool,” Max said nearby.

“You never saw this while cycling around here?” Raine asked Stanbury.

“I think the trees blocked our view. And we’re pretty high up right now,” Stanbury said.

Everyone streamed into the building. Inside was a hall with dozens of chairs. There were four doors in the direction of the mountain’s center.

How far did they dig? Raine wondered. Is this even safe?

Even with about eighty people in the hall, they weren’t falling to their deaths, so the building seemed stable enough.

The new employees started looking for their temporary teammates. Raine did the same.

He saw Marco and Edgar standing a good distance from each other. Marco was speaking with Erwin, while Edgar was on his own, waiting around for the competition to start.

Raine approached Marco first and introduced him to Stanbury. Then Raine went right to the topic of Edgar. Marco’s calm expression cracked with a scowl.

“There’s no way that prick is going to be a team player,” Marco said. “You know what he did during the team competition? While we were cycling, I told him to speed up and get sixth, because I knew he could from training. He told me to fuck off. He finished at what? Eleventh?”

“You think he was conserving energy for the individual competition?” Raine asked.

“For sure. And get this, in the fucking throwing contest, he only went for the 20-foot target. The guy plays football at USC. I asked him what the fuck he was doing. He said our team sucked and we were going to lose anyway.”

“He sure sounds like a team player,” Stanbury sighed.

“Well, it's obvious he has problems. But we have to work with him,” Raine said, meeting Marco’s gaze. “We need to work together for the course. We’ll need all four people.”

Marco sighed in frustration. “I know,” he said. “But try convincing that guy of that.”

“It’s almost six,” Edgar said, approaching. “Don’t get in my way.”

Marco frowned. “We’re supposed to work together,” he said.

“We’ll see.”

What kind of a bullshit answer is that?

“Four teams will go at a time. Don’t open the door until I tell you to,” Steele said. Then she started reading names from her phone. After one team composed of people Raine didn’t know, she said the names of those in Grant’s team. Cecily looked like she was ready to beat up someone to get first place. Grant looked uncomfortable even standing near her.

Steele listed the names of those in the next team, which included Max and Arnett. Then she said, “Raine Williams, Edgar Roberts, Stanbury Banks, and Marco Morales. Go to the fourth door.”

They headed for it. Raine met Grant’s gaze while going to the door. He nodded to Grant and gave a thumbs up.

Grant gave a weak smile and nodded back.

Max and Arnett didn’t look that motivated, but that was fine. The team competition’s prizes were what really mattered to them.

“You should know four things before we start,” June said, “First, there is no time limit. Second, you can quit at any time. Just shout ‘I quit.’ Third, you can be eliminated from the competition. You’re out once you’re hit with a tennis ball for the third time.”

Wait, what? Tennis balls?

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“There are cameras past those doors, by the way. There have been people who tried to cheat the three-hit elimination. We fired them without a second thought. And fourth, your entire team is done as soon as at least one person reaches the end.”

Steele nodded. “Open the door now,” she said. “Start.”

Edgar turned the handle and dashed through the doorway. Stanbury went next, then Marco, then Raine. Unlike Edgar, they just walked.

“This isn’t a fucking 100-meter sprint,” Marco said.

There wasn’t even much space to run. They only went a few steps forward before they reached a short flight of stairs. To Raine’s relief, it had a handrail.

After the stairs, they made a left turn and entered a strange room. At the center of it were two things that looked like stationary bicycles with stone seats. One of the bikes was two or three feet closer to the far wall than the other. Then to their left, about ten feet away, was a bow and three arrows on a short table. Beyond that, on the wall opposite the entrance, there was a pair of closed doors.

The walls to the left, right, and front had small white squares about eight feet from the floor. The squares had dotted concentric black rings painted on them.

“I assume they’re locked,” Stanbury said, striding to the doors and grabbing their handles. They didn’t budge when he tried to pull them. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck is this?” Edgar asked no one in particular. “Hey, you.” He glanced at Raine. “What does this say?”

He pointed at a series of Ephrian sentences written on the wall.

Raine was tempted to tell him to fuck off, but he had to remember his own advice to swallow his grievances and work with Edgar until the competition was over. But he wasn’t going to take an attitude like that without firing back. “You can’t read it?” Raine asked.

“No shit I can’t,” Edgar said with a frown. “Quit wasting time and just read it.”

“Alright. ‘Instructions,’” Raine said. “‘Two make an opportunity. One strikes the killing blow. The last spots danger and opportunity.’”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” Edgar said.

“The danger part is obvious,” Marco said. “June mentioned tennis balls. One of us keeps an eye open for them.”

Three gazes landed on Raine.

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it,” he said.

“I’ll make the ‘killing blow,’” Edgar said, heading for the bow.

“Marco, aren’t you better with the bow than Edgar?” Raine asked.

Edgar glared at him.

“Way better. But my arms are dead from the team competition,” Marco said with a frown.

“And I know the British guy isn’t as good as me, so I’ll obviously use the bow,” Edgar said. He nocked an arrow. “But what the hell am I supposed to shoot?”

“Just wait a bit. Marco, Stanbury, could you sit over there and start cycling?” Raine asked.

“Alright,” Marco said. He was standing just a step away from one of the stationary bikes, so he got on and put his feet on the pedals. “Hrgh! Haa!”

The pedals moved inch by inch.

“You’re so goddamn weak,” Edgar said.

“Shut up. Unlike you, I actually made an effort in the cycling race, so I’m pretty damn tired.”

“I wasn’t slacking, dumbass. I got shit sleep, and my stamina took a hit. I was fucking heaving by the end of the race.”

“Sure you were. You’re so—”

“Marco,” Stanbury said irritatedly. He got on the second stationary bike. “We really don’t need this right now.”

“You’re so full of shit, man,” Marco continued, ignoring Stanbury. Edgar scowled. “On the first fucking day, you were all ‘I’m the number one athlete here,’ but here we are after you got your ass kicked by ten other people in the cycle. You weren’t even tenth in the throwing contest because you were too fucking lazy to put any effort in.”

“Hey, Marco,” Edgar growled. His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “Are you looking for a fucking fight or something?”

“Marco, I know you’re pissed at him, but now is not the time to vent your frustrations,” Raine said. Edgar was still staring at Marco with furious eyes. “Edgar, you want to win, right? We all want to win. So put that anger to use and help us win. Remember that we’re in a fucking competition, people. The other teams are running ahead without bickering every thirty seconds.”

“Exactly,” Stanbury said. He grunted as he started pedaling.

Marco sighed in frustration and resumed pedaling as well. Edgar kept the frown, but his gaze left Marco.

For a while, as Marco and Stanbury cycled, nothing happened. Marco just grew more and more tired and breathed harder and louder.

Edgar nocked his arrow and looked around with an impatient look. “The fuck?” he said.

Then a small part of the wall opened up. Moments later, a tennis ball came flying out. It was headed straight for Edgar, who ducked.

The tennis ball bounced off the wall behind him.

“Holy shit,” he said, wide-eyed.

Jesus, Raine thought, staring at the tennis ball rolling on the ground. It probably wouldn’t give anyone serious injuries, but it would certainly leave a hell of a bruise. “There’s the danger,” he said.

“Hey, it was your fucking job to let me know about that,” Edgar said to Raine.

“Yeah, because he obviously knew what was going to happen,” Marco said.

“No, it was my bad. I should have said something,” Raine said. He didn’t really mean what he said, but it placated Edgar to some degree. Then Raine noticed something. “Look at that.”

The small white square on the wall in front of them parted at the middle. The two halves slid away to reveal a black and white target behind. Raine’s eyes widened.

“Edgar!” Raine said.

“Shit,” Edgar said. While he drew his bow as fast as he could, the halves of the square started sliding back together.

Edgar fired.

The opening was gone. The arrow bounced off the square and fell onto the ground.

“Fuck!” Edgar growled.

Then a piece of the left wall opened.

“Duck, Stanbury!” Raine shouted.

Stanbury dropped off the bike and got to the ground. A tennis ball flew over him and hit the right wall.

“Thanks,” Stanbury said, getting up.

Marco had stopped cycling as well. He looked exhausted. “Fuck, this isn’t easy,” he said between deep breaths.

Then a part of the front wall opened.

Fuck. “Marco, get down!” Raine shouted.

Marco’s eyes went wide, and he threw himself onto the ground.

While he groaned in pain, the ball flew over his bike and hit the back wall.

“I thought this competition wasn’t supposed to be challenging physically,” Marco said, grunting as he clambered to his feet. He was still breathing hard.

“Maybe if you quit wasting time talking, it’ll be easier,” Edgar said.

Raine sighed. “Marco needs a break,” he said. “Edgar, you’re going to have to get on the bike.”

“Fuck that.”

“You want to win right? That means we as a team win. So we need to keep going. Marco is exhausted. I can’t cycle for shit with my leg injury, but I can throw pretty well.” Raine picked up a tennis ball near him.

“Jesus Christ, man!” Marco cried. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“June said we need to get hit three times to be eliminated. I’m counting on her being exact with her words.”

“Well...true. But how do you know if the ball is a viable replacement for an arrow?”

“I don’t. I’m just hoping for the best. The wall says ‘killing blow,’ but it doesn’t say said we have to use the bow.”

Edgar hesitated.

“Come on, man. It’s going to take forever for Marco to get the energy to keep going,” Raine said.

“Gee, thanks,” Marco said.

Edgar grunted. “Fuck,” he said, striding to the empty bike. He pointed at Raine. “You better hit the fucking target.”

“Of course. Marco, please be the spotter,” Raine said. Marco nodded.

Edgar got on the bike.

“Ready?” Stanbury asked him.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s fucking go,” Edgar said.

They started cycling.

A part of the wall opened then, from their left.

“Raine, move!” Marco said.

Raine saw the opening and took a big step forward. The ball passed harmlessly.

“We really don’t need to move that much to dodge them,” Raine said. As he spoke, his eyes went from white square to white square. He got ready to throw the tennis ball in his hand.

His eyes were on the right wall when Marco cried, “Left wall! Target!”

Raine turned around. He aimed at the white square and threw the ball as soon as the target was revealed.

The ball landed right on the target.

Then there was a click from the double doors on the wall in front of them.

“Nice!” Marco said.

Edgar and Stanbury stopped pedaling. The former was sweating and breathing heavily, getting off his bike slowly, while the latter just took a deep breath and got up normally.

“You think that’s it?” Marco asked.

“No way. That was too short,” Raine said.

Edgar took a deep breath and rushed to the doors. He threw them open and ran through the doorway.

“Can’t he just calm down?” Stanbury asked with a sigh.

The three of them went past the doors as well.

“Holy shit,” Marco said. “Hopkins is crazy.”

Raine stared at the water in shock. Wow. And there have to be three more like this.

They were in a cavern with a long stretch of water in front of them. They couldn’t actually see its end. Another stationary bike was on the ground, and there was a canoe floating on the edge of the water. The place was lit with LED lights on the ceiling.

A signboard was stuck in the ground in front of the water. There was a sentence written in Ephrian on it. I guess it was too hard to write on the wall.

Raine read it aloud: “‘Sometimes, escapes take sacrifice.’” Raine frowned. “That’s it. What the hell?”

Stanbury stroked his beard. “It says ‘sometimes,’” he said. “So two take the canoe, and the remaining ones don’t have to be left two behind? The water looks perfectly good for swimming.” He dipped one hand into the water. He pulled it out with a jerk, like something had been bitten him. “Ice-cold.”

While they spoke, Edgar hopped on the canoe. He used the paddle to push off the ground. Then he started paddling away.

“Hey!” Marco shouted. “What the fuck are you doing?“

“The instructions are fucking clear,” Edgar said. “Be happy; you guys will get third place or some shit. I’m going to win.”

“There’s space for two fucking people, man!”

Edgar ignored him. He struggled to keep the canoe straight, but he was moving forward.

Marco groaned in frustration.

“Edgar, you have no idea whether or not you’ll need someone’s help with whatever is on the other side of the water,” Raine said. Edgar just kept going. Shit. “You’ll need help reading the Ephrian instructions!”

No response.

“Fucking hell,” Stanbury said. He took his phone out of his pocket, put it on the ground, and took off his jacket.

“Hold on,” Marco said. “Don’t try to climb on the canoe. When you get close, he’ll probably whack you in the head by ‘accident’ if that’s what it’ll take to get ahead.”

Stanbury frowned. “Are you serious?” he asked.

“Yeah. He really wants to be first in this competition.”

“And even if he doesn’t mean to, his paddling is crazy enough that he’ll probably hit you anyway,” Raine said.

“Son of a bitch, of all the people to be in a team with,” Stanbury said, throwing his jacket onto the ground. “Now what?”

“Well, I’m sure the bike is there for a reason,” Raine said.

Catching the hint, Stanbury sighed and got on. “Let’s see what happens.”

He started cycling.

Marco and Raine stood there waiting as the sound of Stanbury’s cycling and the fading sound of Edgar’s paddling filled the cavern.

Then, as Raine started getting bored, he heard Marco gasp.

“Is that what I think it is?” Marco asked. He was looking at the hole in the wall above the double doors they’d walked through.

A tennis ball shot out of the hole.

It flew dozens of feet and landed on the water. They all stared at the ball for a moment.

“Oh my god, can you shoot tennis balls at Edgar if you cycle hard enough?” Marco said.

It should be the opposite. “Can you go a little slower, Stanbury?” Raine asked.

He did. “Yeah, why?” he asked.

“You’ll see in a bit.”

After a few minutes, another tennis ball shot out of the wall.

It flew twice as far as the first.

“Shit, that’s awesome!” Marco said. “Stop cycling. We need to fucking whack that asshole with these.”

“No, no,” Raine sighed. “Keep cycling. Marco, Edgar is a dick, but I’d rather have him go and try to win than get him eliminated.”

“We can hit him once,” Stanbury said, still cycling. “Three times for a knockout, right? He’ll be fine.”

Raine was tempted. Still, his rationality prevailed. “Yeah, three hits for a knockout. But it can hit him at a bad time, in a bad spot. That could screw up his odds of finishing alone.”

“Or we can shoot one and threaten to keep going if he doesn’t turn around that canoe,” Marco said.

“He’ll know about the tennis balls after the first one and sit the other way. He’ll start ducking.”

Marco and Stanbury sighed.

“True,” they said.

. . . .

“Let’s do it,” Julia said with an evil grin. “Nail her.”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Julia,” Grant said.

“Let’s do it,” Livia said calmly. She stopped cycling.

“Oh my god.”

No more than ten seconds later, a tennis ball shot out of the wall and sped toward Cecily’s distant canoe.

“Ow!” they heard her cry. “What the fuck!”

“That’s how you do it,” Julia said. She high-fived Livia.

Grant sighed.

“That was fun. But I don't think she'll let herself get hit again,” Julia said. "So who’s going to get in the water?"

“Wait, we’re getting in the water?” Grant asked.

“One or two of us should,” she said. “Can you swim?”

“Well, I’m not a good swimmer, but I’m not sure you—”

“Okay, see you. And take care of my phone for me, please.” She passed him her phone, threw off her jacket, and dove into the water.

“Good luck,” Livia said, getting off the bike. She did the same thing as Julia.

Grant watched them swim away for a short while. He sighed. This team sucks.