Substitute

A stepped onto the podium.

A shouldn't be here. B should be here. B is the one who deserves the award, not A.

A stood still. The crowd below seemed to coalesce into a vast, shadowy mass—boundless and formless—surging forward, closing in.

But this must be an illusion. Even if countless gazes pierced through, even if indistinct whispers quietly spread, even if everyone's faces showed the expected expressions—it didn't mean they would actually pull A off the podium in the next second. They wouldn't.

A knew it was impossible to remain silent any longer.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” The voice was passable—not loud, but not weak either.

“I'm A. It's an honor to have participated in this competition and ultimately won first prize.”

It should have been B who won.

“This wouldn't have been possible without the support of all the selfless contributors...”

No one supports B. Not even at the very end.

“Thank you all for your affection...”

B was the one who deserved that affection.

“ Continue to work hard... keep pushing forward...”

B was gone. It was all over.

Applause began to trickle in as the speech drew to a close. First, just a few scattered claps, then like beans rolling down a slope, swelled into a whirring chorus.

A's mouth went dry.

The crowd no longer pressed in; instead, it steadily receded, as if suddenly no longer part of this world.

But of course, this too was an illusion.

Only the fact that it was A standing on the podium now, not B, was not an illusion.

Alright, now, turn and step down. A took a step.

Bang. The gunshot rang out.

Without warning or reason, the gunshot sounded. The bullet was faster than the crowd's gasps, faster than any reaction A could muster.

Before A could hear other sounds—like shrapnel tearing through flesh—A collapsed to the ground.

“Confirmed. Operation complete.”

The man wearing the communication earpiece glanced at the person beside him.

“B, you're temporarily safe now.”

The person called B stared at the blurred pixels on the surveillance screen. Among so many pixels, a few crimson dots were insignificant.

“Mhm.” B nodded.