Far from the dusty chambers and worn-out training zones of the participants, in a luxurious, cold, sterile chamber deep within the GAC's top-secret headquarters, a high-stakes meeting was underway. The room was oval, its walls a hybrid of polished black glass and digital surveillance panels showing dozens of live feeds of contestants—unaware, uneasy, or overconfident in their rooms.
Around a long obsidian conference table sat the most powerful individuals on the planet.
The leader of the Global Administrative Council (GAC), a tall, sharply-dressed man in his late sixties with a cold stare and white-gloved hands, adjusted his tie before beginning the session.
Beside him sat Kimaru Jong Han, Supreme Commander of Korea, his eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. "It's going to be a wonderful experience watching these players fall one by one," he said, tapping his fingers on the desk. "I admit—I'm quite new to this now."
Across from him, the President of the United States—a calm man with sharp eyes behind silver-rimmed glasses—chuckled dryly. "You know, Kimaru, after watching these games for over a decade, I've realized something important: when pushed to the edge, humans reveal their true natures. All masks come off. Morality, empathy, loyalty… they're luxuries in a world like ours. The Games strip them down to raw instinct. That's where the true data lies—psychology at its purest."
Kimaru grinned. "Indeed. It's better than any psychological experiment we could ever conduct in a lab."
The GAC leader looked across the table at the silent man sitting at the far end—the Owner of the Games, the elusive architect known to most as Owner of the Games . He hadn't spoken a word since entering the chamber. He simply sat, expressionless, watching the feeds with disturbing calmness.
The GAC leader finally spoke again. "But this time feels... different. This might be one of the final installments of The Games of the Masterminds."
That statement stirred murmurs around the room. "Final?" asked one of the GAC's regional directors. "With the level of global influence these games have garnered, why would we stop now?"
Before the leader could answer, another administrator interjected, gesturing at the screens. "Look at these contestants. The Games haven't even started, and yet they believe so deeply in their authenticity. There's hardly been any confirmation that the games will be real. No physical evidence. Just a flashy presentation and some well-designed propaganda—and yet, they've all submitted. Voluntarily."
He scoffed.
"That's the true genius of the operation," he continued. "We used nothing but greed, desperation, and subtle manipulation. Dangle a fictional currency in front of them—the GAC Tokens. Call it a reward system. Most of them never even questioned if it's real. Not really. They just hoped it is… because it's better than their lives."
Another executive nodded. "And even when we told them death was a possibility—they accepted it. Not because they're brave. Because they've already been dead inside for years. Living in ruins, surrounded by poverty and blood-soaked streets. Most of them were simply waiting to be chosen. They welcomed the invitation like a second chance."
A few quiet chuckles spread around the room. But the Mastermind still hadn't spoken. He only leaned forward slightly, his fingers steepled before his mouth.
"They think it's a game," he finally said—his voice low, calculated, and strangely emotionless. "But it's not. It's a filter. A global sieve. Each time we run it, the world becomes cleaner… more focused. We extract those worthy of chaos. The rest—"
He waved his hand slightly, dismissively. "—fade into irrelevance. Or fertilizer."
Everyone fell silent for a moment, processing his words. On the screen, some of the players were shown chatting, others silently preparing, and a few already panicking in solitude. The hall echoed faintly with the tension of unseen violence to come.
Then the GAC leader sighed. "Let it begin soon. The world is ready. And I am curious to see which of these broken humans thinks they deserve survival."