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Now reading: Chapter 147: Team Four— masquerade? from I PICKED UP A CHILD IN A DUMPSTER, a Fantasy novel by OPnAI.

The wheel still hadn’t stopped spinning.

Then after a mont— finally... finally...

The wheel slowed above them with one final series of heavy clicks, the sound dragging across the arena like a chains grinding against stone.

Tak.

Tak.

Tak.

Then—

It stopped.

Silence followed almost imdiately, tension hanging thick in the air as everyone instinctively looked upward toward the result. Team One stared with lingering dread. Team Two looked half dead already. Even Team Three, despite their "lucky" assignnt, watched cautiously now, like they understood luck could still turn around and bite.

But Team Four—

Still didn’t look.

Seong’s arm remained around Si Hon’s waist.

Aeloria still clung stubbornly to his arm while pretending she absolutely wasn’t. Oh my god this TSUNDERE.

Si Hon himself looked more focused on figuring out why this was his life now than on the massive wheel deciding whether they lived or died.

And behind them?

The fangirls were still silently combusting.

The bunny announcer’s smile twitched.

Just slightly.

One eye narrowed.

The vein near her forehead may or may not have existed for half a second.

Because sohow, after all her dramatic setup, after all the tension, the spinning, the fear, the screaming, the psychological warfare—

These idiots were still roleplaying romance beside the execution wheel.

A long pause stretched.

Then her cheerful expression cracked.

"Stop that," she snapped suddenly, voice echoing sharply through the arena loud enough to make several people jump.

The entire crowd froze.

Even the fangirls stiffened.

Above them, the bunny announcer pointed aggressively toward the wheel behind her, ears twitching in visible irritation.

"LOOK at what your team got!"

Only then did Si Hon slowly blink and lift his head upward.

Aeloria hesitated before following his gaze a second later, still holding onto his arm.

Seong looked up too, expression calm as always, though her hand subtly loosened around Si Hon’s waist at the sudden outburst.

The massive wheel lood above them.

Still.

Waiting.

And written across the result—

—was sothing none of them recognized imdiately.

Not because the words were unclear.

But because the mont they read it, the entire arena seed to hesitate with them... okay, it’s actually because of its unusual and weird... text, like... no one has SEEN it.

The symbols carved across the wheel glowed faintly, pale gold spreading through the letters one by one as though the scenario itself was waking up.

Then the words fully settled into place.

"Attend an Endless Masquerade."

Silence.

Not confusion.

Not yet.

Just... pause.

The kind that ca when a sentence sounded too harmless after everything that ca before it.

Team One frowned.

Team Two looked offended by the possibility that this might actually be easier than theirs.

Even Team Three narrowed their eyes slightly, suspicion replacing relief almost instantly.

Above them, the bunny announcer stared at the result for a second.

Then slowly—

Very slowly—

Her grin returned.

Wider than before.

"Oh," she said softly.

And sohow that single word felt worse than the lab.

The arena lights dimd slightly around the edges as she leaned against the railing again, kicking her feet lazily while looking directly at Team Four with sparkling amusent.

"Well... that’s unfortunate."

Si Hon’s eyes remained on the wheel.

"...Masquerade?" he repeated quietly.

Beside him, Aeloria’s grip on his arm tightened just a little. "That doesn’t sound dangerous."

The bunny announcer imdiately pointed at her.

"That," she declared dramatically, "is exactly what people say before things beco dangerous."

Abeat passed.

Then she raised one finger.

"Rules!"

Then a portal appeared in front of team four.

But unlike the others—

No village appeared.

No corridor.

No kingdom.

Only darkness.

Black, deep, endless darkness... until slowly, faint golden lights began appearing one after another within it, revealing glimpses of towering chandeliers, endless marble floors, grand staircases curling upward into shadows, and hundreds—

No.

Thousands—

Of masked figures dancing silently beneath dim gold light.

Music drifted through the portal.

Soft.

Elegant.

Beautiful.

And wrong... beautifully wrong...

Because nobody inside the ballroom spoke.

Not one voice.

Not one laugh.

Only dancing.

Slow, endless dancing.

The bunny announcer’s smile sharpened.

"You will attend a celebration hosted by nobles who have danced for a very... very long ti. It’s called ENDLESS for so reason."

One of the fangirls behind Si Hon whispered nervously, "That sounds kinda okay..."

The announcer heard her.

Of course she did.

And giggled.

"It does! That’s the fun part!"

She leaned forward over the railing.

"In this scenario, you must survive until the final dance ends at sunrise."

"Easy, easier than what we Got," soone muttered weakly from Team One.

The announcer’s grin widened further.

"However..."

The music from the portal suddenly distorted for half a second.

Just one second.

Enough.

Because in that brief mont, several dancers inside jerked unnaturally, movents snapping too far, limbs bending at angles human bodies should never reach before smoothing perfectly back into elegance again.

And at the very center of the ballroom—

A figure stood still.

Watching the portal.

Watching them.

A tall woman in a pure white mask.

She did not dance.

Did not move.

But sohow—

Everyone felt her staring directly at them.

The bunny announcer spoke softly now.

"Once soone asks you for a dance..."

Another pause.

"You must accept."

The arena stayed silent.

Then she added cheerfully:

"Because refusing ans they realize you are— you might be alive."

Nobody spoke after that.

Not imdiately.

Even Team Two looked disturbed now.

The music continued drifting gently from the portal, elegant and slow, while masked figures turned endlessly beneath the chandeliers like puppets too graceful to be human.

Si Hon stared at the ballroom quietly.

Then his eyes shifted slightly toward the white masked woman standing at the center.

She hadn’t moved.

Not once.

But sohow—

He had the strange feeling she had been looking only at him from the very beginning.

Behind him, one of the fangirls grabbed Mihu’s shoulders violently.

"Mihu."

Mihu didn’t blink.

"...Yes."

"This isn’t romance anymore."

Mihu swallowed slowly, eyes locked onto the portal.

"No," she whispered.

"This is gothic romance."

The FANGIRL paused.

"This bitch... ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ."

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