After WALKING, literally speaking, for 2 kilometers for half an hour, I lost my mind. This speed is even far below the average human walking pace, as we should have reached this point in 24 minutes instead of 30. I thank our TickBit, which provides an indication of the time and distance we have traveled.

Mr. Wayne argued that we should save some stamina just in case. We will never know what will happen in this mysterious game and situation. At first, I agreed, but this is too much. At the average human jogging speed, we should reach the finish line in less than 2 hours, which I believe is the average player's finish time. If we continue at this rate, we will not arrive until doomsday or die because of boredom.

“Mr. Wayne, how about we start running now? Even jogging is fine too… We have to start increasing our speed.” I said, a little annoyed, out of my desperation. "Surely you can, right?"

Being stuck alone with an old man in a tunnel that can only fit two trains really drives me crazy. Moreover, we didn't talk much during the walk, just a brief introduction in the first minute. Running ahead won't be profitable because I'll be stuck in the first checkpoint gate and still have to wait for my partner. That would be a soul-destroyer when I have to wait for a bloated old-aged man walking for 5 kilometers.

Mr. Wayne didn't immediately answer my question. He looked like he was thinking about something. I could only stay silent and stare at the ceiling of the tunnel, which resulted in my imagination running wild again. I imagine what it would be like if my partner was a beautiful woman my age who wore tight clothes. Or an established woman in her 30s with a more mature look, not bad either. In fact, I'm willing to be trapped in a narrower tunnel with them. Suddenly I remembered something.

Come on, Grey! You have someone waiting for you on the other side of the world! I slap my face hard enough to make a slight echo through the tunnel.

“B-But what if after the first gate we are faced with strenuous physical activity?” Mr. Wayne finally answered the earlier question, though with an answer I didn't expect. Even though I had slapped my face, looking at the man next to me really helped me banish that random imagination. Like heaven and hell.

I couldn't help but take a deep breath when I heard the answer. I then explain things I understand about this game, that we can rest before opening the gate in the checkpoint. That it's all going to be fine because at least there's no sign of anything threatening us up ahead. That we are currently playing, or should I say competing, with other players to get to the finish line as soon as possible. Then I told him that I wouldn’t hesitate to give him the 100th position if we happened to be the last two. And we don't know what kind of punishment yet. It looks like a bit of threat should be given to him. But I'm doing this for the sake of us.

“O-Okay, I understand… I can run and make use of all my stamina in the last kilometer, I guess… So until the 4th kilometer, let's just jog slowly, okay?”

Neat, that's pretty good news. At least we don't have to be a turtle throughout this game.

And... There he goes. After just about 5 minutes of slow jogging, he's already gasping for air. His back was already sweating before we even started the journey, but right now he's like a sweat bath. When I realized this, I tried my best to restrain myself from pitying him. I'll just be a bitch and hurt his pride. So I'd better wait until he himself asks to stop.

This makes me wonder. If the scale is this huge, undoubtedly, the people involved in this game will also be very diverse. Isn't it possible a small child or even a granny on another track? Not to mention if we talk about a person's running experience, their physical strength, the clothes they currently wear, and many other things. So, don't some people have fewer advantages? I can't imagine how it feels to be someone who hates running so much or even someone who happens to be wearing a party gown forced to run for 15 kilometers.

Honestly, I'm a bit relieved now. That means maybe we really don't need to be in such a hurry. At least Mr. Wayne can rest and take his time at the checkpoint. But I won't tell him now because he will surely beg to walk again.

We finally reached the 3.9th-kilometer point in the 39th minute (Coincidence? I don't think so). If previously we barely spoke to each other, this time we didn't even make the slightest sound except for the gasping sound that made me uncomfortable and the sound of the wind blowing from the vent in the tunnel ceiling. Now that I think about it, it doesn't feel stuffy, and it's pretty cool here. While I'm jogging, I don't feel hot, even somewhat comfortable. Well, apart from being a way of a light source to enter this tunnel, it seems that the vent is designed so that air can enter.

That's why they called it a 'vent', obviously. Duh. I'm such an idiot.

It is also at this point, Mr. Wayne finally expresses his struggle between his heavy breaths. "Hey, can we stop for a moment?" I won't comment on anything. He had put all he had up to this point.

"Alright. We can walk up to the 4th kilometer. After that, unleash your spirit and stamina again! Then we gobble whatever they serve at the first checkpoint.” I can only cheer him up and encourage him. Even though I don't think we need to rush anymore, I still don't want to take the risk of going too slow. At least we have to keep going when we have decided to set foot on this rail.

Mr. Wayne smiled vaguely as he nodded his head. His face is a little redder than 15 minutes ago. There is nothing to wipe the sweat off his face and neck, thus he uses his blue tie. His shirt under the suit is also very wet right now. It must have been uncomfortable even for a second to be in such clothes. I wanted to lend him the t-shirt I was wearing under my sweater, but it sure wouldn't be of any use to him other than being used as a towel.

I myself feel excellent so far, surprisingly. Just a little sweat here and there. A few minutes can restore my breath. Considering that I haven't exercised much since college, this isn't bad. But as a former ace on my high school basketball team, I feel like I can do a better job. After arriving home later, I have to start to rebuild my body and energy.

“This is my punishment...” Mr. Wayne suddenly opened up a conversation, heavy air started coming for us, but perhaps it will be an interesting talk.

“On weekdays, I have a routine. Go to the office first thing in the morning, and come home at dawn, repeat. I hardly ever go out on the weekends, just sitting in front of the computer doing office work. There's no other activity other than work-related in my world, now that I think about it. Including exercise." Then I caught him gulping as if he had doubts about something he was going to say. “Well… My family was also affected by that… Too busy to have family time.”

"Do you remember my wife and daughter that I told you about earlier?" I nodded. “I… Was so busy that I felt like I had forgotten their faces. So busy that I feel like I never hug, even touch them.” Mr. Wayne lifted his head which had been staring blankly at the railroad tracks, and then returned to staring blankly at the ceiling of the tunnel. “They are two beautiful angels in my life who give me the zest for life. Regrettably, I didn't treat them well. But you know… I worked hard for them too, in order to live happily with them. Although it might be too hard for them and myself…”

After being silent for 3 seconds, his vacant gaze suddenly turned into a passionate eye, as if it was shining brightly again. He then looked at me, smiling excitedly, like a child going to an amusement park.

“Do you know the new amusement park in the neighboring city that will be inaugurated next week? I forgot its name… Er…” Mr. Wayne scratched his head, trying his best to get the name out of his head.

"You mean Dreamland?" I helped him dig up his memory. I've seen the pamphlet tucked through the gap in my apartment door by the marketing staff. The amusement park isn't too big, so there aren't many rides to offer, but the dreamy world theme design is unique enough to catch my eye. During the holidays, I think I will take my girlfriend to visit and enjoy our time there.

“Yeah, that's the one! I'll be busy the next few days, but I'll make an effort to take my wife and daughter there on its grand opening day. I've already booked three tickets for next week, and they said there will be some limited performance!”

I couldn't help but smile as Mr. Wayne excitedly told me about his plans. He looked very impatient, looking for next week. Perhaps, it will be a precious time for him. A day full of hope, definitely. Hopefully, Mr. Wayne and his family can become closer.

"It's been a long time since I've talked about life outside work. I'm also surprised I can tell all this to a foreigner like you. But it's been a relief. Maybe what I need is a conversation outside statistics.” The sentence ended with his chuckle.

I'm no less surprised. If I’m honest, I can't stand hearing strangers' stories. On the train, I often meet older adults who talk about their families, their jobs, so on so forth. It can even be a pain in my ass at some rate. But actually, this doesn't feel bad. Maybe because we are in one ship full of mystery, I can tolerate my uncomfortable feelings. In fact, I was slightly touched by his story and wished him the best. Besides that, I think I should get closer to my partner.

"Oh, I've told you too much about my plans. How about yours?"

"My plan?"

"Shouldn't we start running in a little while?"

The hope of his plan seems to be pushing Mr. Wayne to finish this game faster. He must not finish last, no matter what happens and whatever the penalty. He couldn't take risks that might affect his family time next week. I can't lose my spirit to this old man next to me. I will help him. I also want to finish fast, find out what this game means, all this event is about. And of course, for the sake of my safety too.

I do some calculations in my head while looking at my watch. “900 meters to go to the first checkpoint. If we run at an average speed, we should be able to arrive in the 46th to 48th minutes.” Although dissatisfied with the time we've taken, I think it's going to be okay. At least maybe it won't make either of us finish last.

“Are you sure we should run at average speed?” asked Mr. Wayne, looking at me in surprise. “We have to run with all our might! We have to catch up with the other participants! It's all my fault. I’ll burn all my breath so we can catch up with the others."

Now I'm the one that was surprised because of Mr. Wayne's overflowing spirit. A person can become overzealous if given a reason to keep going. Well, it seems this is what's called the power of motivation. "But still keep an eye on your breath! Everything will be in vain if you die."

Mr. Wayne chuckled and nodded. Then we set out to run, and at my signal, we both take off to run with all we have.

***

After running fast (according to me, who rarely exercises now) for about 5 minutes, I arrived first on the platform, which is the first checkpoint. Not an unpredictable result.

Even if it has adequate lighting and ventilation where light can enter, a tunnel is still a tunnel. I didn't get very far enough visibility, so I can't see where Mr. Wayne is right now. I hope he's not too far behind.

This cubic platform isn’t too big, with two pillars that divide the platform into three parts. Each pillar has a television in it that displays a different sentence. The one to the left reads,

Congratulations on reaching the first checkpoint! As a form of appreciation, we served food and drinks to replenish your energy. Please, make good use of the resources provoded in front of you.

Only 10 kilometers remaining. Cheer up and keep going!

Unlike its neighbors who give the positive energy, that TV on the right… Sounds more gloomy. This is what's written on its screen,

Eat voraciously like you will die tomorrow!

A little awful, but maybe they just try to encourage us to consume what is presented because we still have a long way run to go.

There is a large table in the center of the platform with white light bulbs shining from above. On the table are four meal boxes and a medium-sized cooler. The Bentos contain the same thing; one serving of rice, fried chicken, broccoli salad, and barbecue sauce as a complement. At first I thought four Bentos was too much for the two of us, but then it's Mr. Wayne… Looks like we can consume them without any leftovers.

Speaking of drinks, there are also four isotonic drinks in the cooler, buried by ice cubes. Honestly, this is all I need. As long as I get some water supplies, I'll survive. Plus, eating just a few moments before a strenuous physical activity won't be good for my stomach. I didn't want to risk stomach cramps halfway through and not be able to continue at the same pace. This is a valuable lesson I learned when I ate a lot just before the basketball game. I can eat when I get home later.

In addition to the consumables, there are also sheets of fabric that are placed nicely. I don't know what’s the purpose of it. Maybe I can use it to clean food residue in the mouth, aka napkins. But the material is too thick and soft to use as a napkin, so I'm not sure.

There is a large gate with number one written on the front face not far from this platform. A large monitor embedded right in the middle of the gate, displaying something I couldn't read from afar. That seems to be the gate to the next section mentioned before. Compared to the entire tunnel I've been through and this platform, the gate is brightly lit. I want to go to the gate to seek some clues.

I heard the sound of loafers and the panting of an old man just before I stepped foot. Who else but Mr. Wayne. "Come on! Just a little more!" I shouted from the platform. I held back from approaching the first gate and preferred to wait for Mr. Wayne on the platform.

Mr. Wayne couldn't help but lie down on the floor as he reached the first checkpoint. He doesn't care about the writings, the dust on the floor, and even completely misses the food right before his very eyes. Mr. Wayne is not in a state of being aware of his surroundings. What impressed me was that he could run out-classed his limit and was only a minute behind me. Again, this is what is called the power of motivation.

I approach Mr. Wayne. His face is very red boil, and his eyes are tightly closed from exhaustion. He is panting and his breath sounds very heavy. His body is drenched in sweat; not a single part of his clothes are dry. Well... Indeed this is very draining, especially for someone who may never exercise in life. I guess I don't need to ask him how he's doing.

In a low, disjointed voice, he asks me to get a drink if there is one. I have a hard time deciphering what came out of his mouth.

From the cooler, I took two isotonic bottles, and I took my share. Mr. Wayne immediately sucks the hell out of it while I only swallow half the bottle. My plan is to save this supply for future usage. Since I didn't have my backpack, I had to run with the bottles in both hands.

Mr. Wayne now looks a lot fresher. He's able to get up from his tiring sleep, leaving a puddle of sweat on the floor where he had fallen asleep which… makes me a little disgusted. He plans to open the second bottle, but when he turns towards the table, he gives up his intention and puts the second bottle on the table. I'm sure right now saliva is flowing profusely out of his mouth, can't wait to gobble all the food that lies in front of him. He then turns his face towards me while pointing at the four bentos.

"Yeah, you can have them all," I said with a chuckle. Before he spoke, I knew such a thought was on his mind. He seemed surprised at what I had just said. Maybe he was worried about my hunger bar and strength. Perhaps he thought that if I didn't eat, I wouldn't be able to continue.

"It's fine, I'll just drink this," I answered Mr. Wayne's concerns while lifting the bottle of water in my hands. He seems satisfied with the answer because, after that, he immediately devours the entire contents of the bentos until it's gone one by one. I don't get anything out of the box at all, not even a single grain of rice.

After completely crushed the boxes, Mr. Wayne sat leaning on the right pillar, holding his bloated stomach. This worries me, to be honest. Most people find it difficult to get up and are too lazy to return to exercise if they take a break for too long. This is the reason why I haven't sat down all this time, to trick my brain. Then we have also spent 10 minutes of our precious time at this checkpoint. Actually, I can't bear to push Mr. Wayne back, but I don't think that's polite. He had put in a lot of effort to get to this point. Plus, we haven't spoken much since Mr. Wayne got to the platform, making it way more complicated for me to say any words of encouragement right away. Looks like I have to wait again...

Just as I'm about to lean on the next pillar, I hear a loud slap from my left. Apparently, Mr. Wayne slapped both cheeks. “Come on, Wayne Blacke! You can't just sit like this all the time!" he shouts, quickly standing up. "There is still a long way to go. I'm sorry for wasting our time," He said as he looked at me and walked towards the track with spirit. I once again shocked by his actions.

Before returning to my track, I remember the fabric placed on the table earlier. Mr. Wayne didn't use that for cleaning his leftovers, so I offered him to use it as a towel. However, Mr. Wayne refuses. He felt it would be useless because his body would be drenched in sweat again. He's not wrong, after all. With clothes so soaked like that, he'll still be wet no matter what efforts to dry his body.

We rush to gate number one after I flatten out the thick fabric and put it in its original place. We arrive with just a few steps. As we are right in front of the gate, we feel our watches vibrate, showing a green “Open” button. The monitor I could see from afar earlier instructed us to press the buttons simultaneously to continue. Mr. Wayne turns at me and nods confidently, signaling that he's so ready.

Moments later, the monitor shows two sets of numbers. I'm pretty sure the first set represents the time we opened this gate because it corresponds to the elapsed time that we can see through the watch, which is 55 minutes 49 seconds. The second set of numbers is also a time, which is 42 minutes 37 seconds. I think there are various meanings of the second time. What currently makes sense to me is the average time for each duo to open the first gate.

This is bad.

If that assumption is true, Mr. Wayne and I are in pretty serious trouble. But I might just overthink it. I shouldn’t break my concentration just because of this. I should focus more on what's behind this gate and try my best to improve our time. Whether it's true or not, I'm still going to push Mr. Wayne to try a little harder.

The gate opens downwards (unlike I expected), plunges itself into the ground, and reveals what’s behind it. Yes, you're not wrong. As far as the eye can see, it's only an extension of the tunnel prior, nothing different. Unless I think it's foggier.

The first gate immediately closes just as we set foot on this 'next section', so we can't return to the platform or take a step back. Just like when the gate opened, the ground I stepped on shook slightly on the way the gate is closing and then caused a small earthquake as the tightly closed gate touches the ceiling of the tunnel. This minor quake reminds me of the one I felt when I ran earlier. Well, many other participants took part in this race, so it's not surprising that I could feel the tremor as the first gate on another track opened or closed.

I'm startled the moment the quake stops. I release my grip on the two isotonic bottles. I fall to my knees hard, wince in pain, and quickly cover my ears with my free hands. No, I didn't feel the pain from the rocks and pebbles that scratched and stabbed my knee. There is something far more painful than that.

I regret not bringing the fabric earlier. Looks like this time, I'm the one who will be a burden and hinder our journey.