Chapter Text

Act I - The Recusant

I - Bora

Bora never knew what it was exactly, that In-ho saw in 456. There was no denying he was a handsome man; tall, lean, and a face that, despite his age, could make people swoon. He could have easily been a model or actor when he was younger.

When it came to looks alone, sure, Bora got him. But his leader’s obsession with the previous winner went beyond simple carnal desire. In-ho was fascinated by his mind. He observed him like a researcher observed a sample under the microscope.

Bora couldn’t wrap his head around what In-ho could possibly find so fascinating about that moron. That idiotic act of heroism during the first game alone almost made him want to throw up, yet it somehow amused him. He still couldn’t believe the leader made them change all the games overnight just because, for some reason, 456 wanted to go back into the game. And In-ho let him!

It was preposterous.

It was thanks to No-eul that Bora started to understand why. The others had told him she had been acting weird, probably intending to report everything about their organ trafficking ring to the leader. So Bora had her bugged, placing the miscroscopic device cleverly under her boot.

The poor devil didn’t notice a thing. And when she did go to In-ho, as they had predicted, Bora was in his own office, listening to every word with his feet crossed at the ankle and a galss of whisky in his hand.

“Good job reporting this, soldier eleven. I was planning to have him substituted by the next game either way. I doubt I can find a temporary substitute before this games start, so for now keep doing your job as always.”

“Sir, I’m not reporting this because I wanna take his place.”

“I’m not giving his place to you. I have my eyes on a very promising racehorse.”

Racehorse? Racehorse! The glass shattered in his hand as Bora's rage exploded. The man secretly swore revenge on both of them that day. Have him substituted with a brainless, selfless idiot with a hero complex. How did In-ho even think he was going to make him accept such a position?

It was only when the leader joined the games that his strategy became clear to him. 456 helped the players through the first game, but unable to predict the second, he lost the fragile trust he had gained.

“For what it’s worth, I still trust you.”

Bora wanted to vomit.

Wiring the other players against 456, earning his trust, breaking his faith. In-ho wanted to break him and model him after him, exactly like Oh Il-nam had done with him before. But there was only one thing In-ho didn’t understand.

He wasn’t the only puppeteer in town.

II - The Rebellion

The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder. They were advancing slowly, Gi-hun knew it would have been impossible to defeat all of them, but if only they could have gotten to their leader, then they had a chance. One that would give meaning to all the lives lost in that place.

[Attention rebels]

The voice on the speaker was loud and clear. It seemed like the gunshots on the other side had ceased, only the ones on Gi-hun’s side persisted.

[The head square in charge is asking for a truce. Lay down your weapons.]

“This must be a trap,” Jung-bae said. From the way Young-il was clenching his jaw, he must have agreed. Gi-hun was just as tense, but as they saw the pink guards lowering their weapons and putting their hands up in surrender, he hesitated and lowered his rifle.

Hyun-ju stared at him, looking for guidance. “Gi-hun, what do we do?”

The others turned to him too, hanging from his lips. Gi-hun looked at each of them in the eyes. They all counted on him. If he failed, all of their souls would be on his conscience.

“Lower your weapons,” he said. Some more reluctant than others, they all followed his orders.

[Our leader wants to speak with the leader of the rebellion. 456 follow the manager, please.]

A masked soldier, rifle still strapped to his back, walked closer to him and gestured at Gi-hun to follow him.

Gi-hun turned to look at his team one last time. They were all wide-eyed, scared, and confused. Jung-bae had his heart in his throat, almost begging him not to go. Young-il looked lost as he stared at the masked soldier with wary eyes.

He gave all of them a reassuring nod, as reassuring as it could be in their situation. But when he left, he could see a small spark of hope in their eyes.

In-ho's mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. They had discussed the possibility of Gi-hun enacting an uprising, but this wasn't the course of action they had agreed on. They weren't supposed to act until he found himself alone with Gi-hun. At that point, they'd have them surrounded and would have snuffed out the rebellion like that. Why was Bora acting on his own initiative?

"Young-il, do you think - "

In-ho never heard the end of Jung-bae's question. His eyes almost jumped out of his socket when a sleeping dart was shot right into his neck. Looking around, all his companions were falling one by one. When he turned around, the last thing he saw was a pink soldier and the back of his rifle aimed at his head.

*

The soldier led Gi-hun to a dark, spacious room with big screens. Most of them weren’t working – must have been the cameras Hyun-ju had shot – others showed the corridors and room they hadn’t gotten to yet.

There were computers, full complicated keyboards with dozens of buttons. It must have been the control room. A place straight out of a horror video game, but the only thing that made Gi-hun’s skin crawl was the floor. The tiles were composed of pink rhombuses, with the players' faces and their numbers.

Many tiles were blank. Missing the pictures of the eliminated players, the ones who had already died.

That’s how much human life meant to these people. Just a box to check out of a game. A chess piece to take off the board. He passed by his own tile, the determined face on the picture now matching his own as he raised his head to look straight ahead, at the masked man standing at the end of the room. A black silhouette he had searched for years, finally within reach now.

When he was just a few steps from him, Gi-hun stopped and cleared his throat. The pink soldier who had accompanied him left, as the black figure slowly turned around.

His suit was almost completely black, the only thing breaking it was a magenta zipper and a belt of the same color. And his mask… it was a simple black mask, like the ones the other soldier used, with a white square painted at the center. He was just like the other managers, with a fancier suit.

“You’re not him.” Gi-hun's belief was firm. This man in front of him wasn't the same one who had taunted him in that limo, whose words still echoed in his mind. He didn't know how he knew, but his conviction was solid, like granite.

“Yes, I’m not him. I’m just the second in command. But I think you and I can help each other get what we want.”

“Where is he?”

The masked figure laughed. Gi-hun gulped, cold sweat running down his brow.

“Where is he? You want to know where he is? Well, he used to be where you were.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Captain had anticipated you might have tried something stupid like this. That’s why he infiltrated among you players. Right now, my men are taking your little rebel group back to the dormitory, including him.”

Gi-hun grimaced, looking at him with wary eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Let’s go back to the dormitory. Once we’re there, I’ll point the traitor out to you. Then you’ll decide what to do with him.”

“Why are you helping me? I’m trying to bring this whole place down.”

“I’m not helping you, I’m helping myself. I want everything he has. His role, his money, everything. But see it this way; I’m offering you the Frontman’s head on a platter. Once you kill him, you’ll be one step closer to your goal. One evil game master down. Whether you can bring down the whole system, that’ll depend on you. What do you say, 456?”

Gi-hun’s goal was never to kill the Frontman. He wasn’t sure collaborating with this other dog would bring him any step closer to his goal, but maybe, knowing the Frontman’s identity could. Maybe then, he could interrogate him. He could force him to help him bring down the system.

After all, if you wanna win at war you have to know your enemies.

But what guaranteed him they wouldn’t execute him and his comrades on the spot once they got back in the dormitories? What guarantee did Gi-hun have that he didn’t make this plan with the Frontman?

“Why should I trust you?”

“This is not an alliance, 456. This is a temporary truce. You don’t have many other options right now. You can go back to your comrades, start shooting at my soldiers again and try your luck, or you could go back to safety, and finally know who’s the man that’s been plaguing your nightmares.”

“And what if I kill you with my bare hands right now?”

Smirking underneath the mask, Bora took off his hood, untied his mask, and revealed his face. Gi-hun’s eyes widened, lips parting in surprise. Why was he showing him his face? His smug, punchable face?

“You could try. Maybe you might even win. We’re the same height, the same build," he said, lying through his teeth. Without his weapons, that scrawny man wasn't going to take anyone down. Fighting 456 now wasn't going to be any fun for him, he needed to gain his trust first. "Look, I’ll even throw my gun away,” he said, throwing away the weapon that landed on the floor with a loud thump. “Wanna give it a shot?”

The man was dangerously close to him, boring into his eyes as he breathed on his face. His breath stank of whiskey and cigarettes. Gi-hun didn’t trust him not to have other weapons on him, and the guard took away his when he escorted him there. Even if he put his hands on him and killed him, a dozen pink guards would be ready and waiting outside.

“You know, we’re not supposed to show our faces to anyone here. I just wanna show you I’m not lying, I’m playing a little rebellion on my own here. And while it’s on, the old rules don’t apply.”

Gi-hun didn't trust him. He didn't trust him one bit. But if he fought and died here, his hope to stop the games would have died too. All those people out there still in this hell, and all the people out there who could have ended up here would have had no hope either. What he was offering him wasn't just a truce; it was precious information. As Sun Tzu taught, you have to know your enemy to be able to defeat them.

Gi-hun took a deep breath.

“Bring me to him.”

III - The Black Box

Escorted by the pink soldiers and the mysterious masked man leading the way, Gi-hun was now back into the dormitory. Once he stepped inside, fifteen boxes were laid before him. The usual black coffins with the pink bows. Only the one in the center was completely black.

The Frontman’s mask was laid right on top of it.

The man he had hunted for years was right in front of him, but all Gi-hun could see were the other boxes, the ones tied with the pink bows. He turned to the man in the square mask with angry tears in his eyes. “What did you do to them?!”

Bora rolled his eyes, though Gi-hun could not see him. “They’re not dead. Only knocked out.”

“What’s the meaning of this?! What’s going on?!” A frantic voice rose from the crowd.

With theatrical steps, Bora walked in front of Gi-hun, took off his mask, and walked down the platforms towards the players. Seeing his rifle strapped to his back, most of them backed off slowly.

“Players, I’m afraid some of you were right. There was indeed a plant in the games all along. But it wasn’t 456, as some of you thought.” Players 100 and 226 looked at each other, then the old man looked at the floor while the young one scratched his head, looking at nothing in particular. “This man is the winner of the 2020 games,” Bora said, pointing his rifle at Gi-hun, “And the whole reason he came back was to take revenge on the man in that one box.”

“I didn’t come back for that, I came back to save everybody!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Bora let out an amused huff, resuming his walk around the players, who cowered in fear, allies clinging onto one another. “The plant is in one of these boxes. In exchange for a temporary truce, I’ve made a deal with 456, offering his head to him on a silver plate.”

He stopped his walk when he was right behind Gi-hun, putting his hands on his shoulders.

“C’mon, 456. Are you scared to know which one of your little friends was a traitor all along?”

Gi-hun gulped, fear gripping his heart. The only one he was sure wasn’t in that box was Jung-bae. As for the others, it really could have been any of them. Could it be Hyun-ju? She was way too skilled as a shooter to be a regular person. When Gi-hun heard the Frontman the first time, the voice he heard was of a man. But his memories were hazy, and that voice could have easily been the one of a trans woman early in her transition. The square officer had referred to the Frontman as a he, but that could have been a red-herring. For now, Gi-hun felt he could safely exclude Hyun-ju.

It couldn’t have been Byeong-su either, he remembered the Frontman to be a taller man. And if he took that into account, the weren’t many options left. Maybe Gyeong-seok? Or Dae-ho? Although the boy had acted scared during the rebellion, not like one would expect the Frontman to act. But that, again, could have been a red herring.

There was a man among them, who had a striking resemblance to a traitor he once knew. Same last name. Same number.

“What are you waiting for, 456?”

Gi-hun approacched the black coffin, taking the mask in his hands.

“He’s right there beneath your fingers.”

Tossing the mask on the ground, Gi-hun put his hand on the lid.

“The man plaguing your nightmares is finally at your mercy now. What will you do?”

Gi-hun took a deep breath as he lifted the heavy lid.

His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. He couldn’t breathe, like the room was full of water and not air. He stepped backwards, like he was walking away from a cascade of lava slowly crawling towards his feet. As he walked back to the first step of the platform, he fell backwards.

Geum-ja, her son and Jun-hee rushed by his side.

“Mr. Seong! Mr. Seong, who’s in there?!” Jun-hee asked him, all three of them afraid to approach the coffin themselves.

The other players, devoured by curiosity, came closer to the coffin, but the armed guards pushed them back. All the eyes were on Gi-hun, the sole guardian of that secret. He was breathing rapidly, his bloodshot eyes filling up with tears as Bora laughed. Gi-hun never wanted to let them make a spectacle of his tears, but he wasn’t in the condition of controlling his emotions.

“Gi-hun, who is in there?” Geum-ja asked him calmly, calling him by his first name for the first time. Gi-hun clung to her arm, needing a reassuring figure to ground her. Her smell, her gray hair, her presence. Everything reminded him of his late mother. Trying to even his breathing, he let the others help him back to his feet.

“It’s… it’s Young-il…”

IV - The Hostages

Helped by Yong-sik, Gi-hun carried their knocked out allies to their respective beds.

“You disappoint me, 456.” Bora observed the spectacle from the platform. “Why haven’t you killed him yet?”

“They’re more important right now.”

“Behold! The hero of the people.”

Bora rolled his eyes, the saccarine spectacle of them carefully putting the others on the beds, fixing their pillows and covering them up with blankets almost made him throw up.

These people would have soon been at each other’s throats if the games had continued. That was just human nature. Friendship was short in a place like that.

As Gi-hun was pulling the blanket over Jung-bae, the man slowly opened his eyes.

“Jung-bae?” He called his name with a relieved smile. Geum-ja, Jun-hee and Yong-sik sighed in relief too.

The man rubbed his eyes, raising himself to a sitting position. “Gi-hun? What happened…?”

“It’s a truce. We’re all back in the dorms for now.”

“A truce?" He said, bringing his palm to the side of his neck. "I thought I got shot… was that just a dart? Fuck, I really thought we were going to die this time…” Jung-bae looked around; their allies were in their own beds, some of them slowly starting to wake up as well.

Gi-hun didn’t know how to break it to him. He still couldn’t believe it himself.

“Young-il was a traitor,” Yong-sik preceded him, having no qualms in taking off the band-aid. Gi-hun wanted to be mad at him, but he was also somewhat relieved that he took the burden of breaking the news from his shoulders. “He was the masked man all along. The one Mr. Seong was talking about!”

To Gi-hun’s surprise, Jung-bae didn’t seem fazed at all by the news.

“I knew it… I knew that guy was shady!”

Gi-hun looked at him, mystified. Jun-hee looked at Geum-ja and then Yong-sik, who were equally confused as she was. Then she looked at Gi-hun for reassurance, but his eyes were still on Jung-bae, waiting for an explanation. Jung-bae got back on his feet, shame and regret on his face. He couldn’t even look any of them in the eyes.

“Gi-hun… I’m sorry I haven’t told you before, but… during the last round of mingle, when Young-il and I entered the room, there was another person there. He just… snapped his neck.”

“What…?”

“I thought he was just being desperate because we were running out of time. I thought about what you said, that this place makes people do horrible things. But when he did that, he looked so… cold. He was scary. I’m sorry, Gi-hun, I’m sorry, everyone. I should have said something before.”

Pressing his lips into a hard line, Gi-hun put his hand on Jung-bae’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t think too much about it. It would have made no difference if you had told us before.”

That was the last straw for Bora.

With a fast pace, he approached the group like a hawk gliding to his prey. They barely had time to react when he grabbed Gi-hun by the arm, dragging him away.

“I’ve had enough of your hero act.”

Once in front of the black coffin, Bora shoved him into the black box with unnecessary violence, among the gasps and surprised yelps of the crowd. Despite the masked men having killed hundreds of them, this was the first time they were witnessing one of the soldiers physically putting their hands on one of them.

Rifles were impersonal. But shoves, grabbing and pushing around were something else.

The illusion they had, of being safe as long as they played by the rules, was shattered irreparably.

Gi-hun fell to the ground, having hit the edge of the box with his stomach, the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He barely had the time to catch his breath when Bora grabbed him by his hair, pulling his head back.

"Not much harm done. Good. I wouldn't want to ruin your pretty face so soon."

Gi-hun looked up at him with feral eyes. He didn't like the implications behind his words, they concealed a type of attention he didn't want from that kind of man. He held back a scream as Bora pulled him by his hair and forced him back on his feet. Grabbing his wrist, he shoved a revolver in Gi-hun’s hand.

“C’mon. Kill him, previous winner. Do you wanna take revenge or stay the most defeated of all winners?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Gi-hun said through gritted teeth, curling his fingers around the gun.

Bora grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around, facing the coffin as one of the soldiers took the lid off, exposing Young-il’s sleeping face again.

“He’s right here in front of you, weak and defenseless. You won’t get another chance like this,” He said, grabbing Gi-hun’s arms and guiding him into the shooting position. Gi-hun’s fingers curled even tighter around the weapon, scared his sweaty hands would make him lose his grip. Still, his index finger refused to even lie on the trigger.

“Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for all these years? Don’t you wanna taste how sweet revenge is?”

“I didn’t come back for this. I came back to save everybody.”

“No. You came back because you hate this man. You came back because he ruined your life. You came back for Kang Sae-byeok and Cho Sang-woo.”

Gi-hun’s eyes widened, the veins on his neck and forehead popping. “WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THEM!?”

A knowing smirk grew on Bora’s lips.

“I know you were too late to save Sae-byeok. I know Sang-woo bled out in your arms. And I know that if they were here right now, they’d want you to avenge them. If they were here right now, they’d tell you to kill him.”

“Kill him, 456!” A scream rose from the crowd. Whether it was from an X or an O, Gi-hun couldn’t tell.

“Kill him!”

“Kill him!”

“Kill the traitor!”

“Kill him!”

“C’mon, do it!”

“He deserves it!”

“Kill him!”

The chants of the players made his head spin. If he looked among the crowd, he swore he could see Sang-woo, or Mi-nyeo, even Deok-su goading him into killing him. But right there, in the far corner of the room, Sae-byeok was hugging her knees. Looking into his eyes with her bright, doe-eyed ones. You’re not that kind of person.

Gi-hun started slowly lowering his gun when a creaky voice rose in the crowd.

“Wait, if he kills him, will we not get any money?” Jeong-dae asked one of the guards, his voice filling the dormitory, hushing the other voices.

Bora laughed. Letting go of Gi-hun, he walked to the player with a smirk. Jeong-dae and the few players around him took a few steps back.

“Player 100, as of right now, you’re not getting money anyway.”

“Hey, what the hell is that supposed to mean! I’ve risked my life three times for that money!”

“Four times! We had to fight for our lives in that bathroom!”

“And in the dorm!”

To quieten the chaos, the soldiers started shooting in the air. Most players took cover under the beds, others knelt on the floor covering their heads, and others just covered their ears. Yong-sik and Geum-ja hugged Jun-hee, who had started crying out of fear.

“Listen up, players. This place is under new management right now,” Bora declared, with a satisfied and proud expression on his face. “And until we’ve finished our negotiations with the VIPs, you’re not players anymore, but hostages.”

“Hostages!?”

“I knew it. I knew this was too fucking good to be true,” Myung-gi said, more to himself than to anyone in particular. “Play some kid game and get millions of won? As if. They’re killing us all and selling our organs.”

When he heard this last comment, Nam-gyu found his limbs pervaded by strong tremors. The blood stains on his arms and clothes suddenly felt like they were burning; he tried in vain to wipe them off.

He wasn’t the only one who started panicking. They were mice in a trap, with nowhere to hide.

“Don’t be afraid,” The manager reassured them, “If you follow our instructions, none of you will get hurt.”

“What on earth is going on here…?”

In-ho woke up to a ruckus he had never imagined seeing in his perfect, schemed, and orderly world. The guards weren’t standing on the platform; they were scattered all around, pointing their shotguns at the players, taking back their O or X patches, some of them without masks and yet still breathing, including his right-hand man.

Everything stopped when they saw him come out of the box. It was like time itself had halted. That trash around him looked down upon him. The players who had taken part in the rebellion – all of them finally awake – had hatred in their eyes. Others, like the former O voters, were fearful or wary.

The more he scanned the room, the more In-ho was met with faces of scorn, including those of his subordinates. Who did they think they were to look down on him like that? In-ho didn’t care about their disdainful eyes. He didn’t care about any of them. Except…

Gi-hun.

In-ho’s grimace softened when he laid his eyes on him. Because there wasn’t hatred in his eyes, there wasn’t mockery or fear. His eyes were red, full of tears. His jaw was tight, his shoulders trembling with each shaky breath he took.

Seeing the irksome smirk on Bora’s face and the black mask lying at his feet, it didn’t take long for In-ho to put the pieces together.

“What did you do?”

“Starting a little rebellion of my own,” Bora said proudly. “What, you really thought we’d all be okay with being killed off because of your little game?”

In-ho couldn’t understand. That was their job. They knew how dangerous it was; they always knew they could die. Yes, he had to admit the deaths in the rebellion could have been avoided. He didn’t have to let Gi-hun in the games again after all. He could have shot him right between the eyes if he wanted, stopped him before he could endanger them all.

But this game of cat and mouse was one he had wanted. Like Il-nam before him, he had wanted to play. In-ho didn’t feel like he had to be sorry for the guards, there was a reason he was chosen as the successor and they were where they were, after all. Everyone had their own place in the hierarchy. Clearly, Bora wanted to climb it without respecting the rules of the game.

In-ho barely had time to react when his former subordinates grabbed him by the arms, pushed him to the ground, and a storm of kicks and punches started raining down on him.

Gi-hun, who still had the gun Bora had put in his hands, acted on instinct in rushing to his aid, but the guards were quick, too. They tackled him to the ground, snatching the weapon from his hands. A boot came into his vision, then the face of Bora who had knelt before him.

“Man, you truly are an idiot. After everything you've done to catch him? You’d defend him? Or perhaps, did you want to have the honor? If that's the case, you lost your chance.”

In-ho screamed, tried fighting them off the best that he could, but his strength couldn’t beat their numbers. To Gi-hun, those screams were still torture. That voice still belonged to his dear friend Young-il. It didn't matter how angry he felt, it didn't matter that seeing his face in that coffin felt like a stab to his guts. He didn't want to see him get so savagely beaten. By a group of armed men, nonetheless.

"Cowards… you people are fucking cowards!"

Bora grabbed his face, grinning. "Don't tell me… You actually still care about your little friend?"

Gi-hun spat in his face.

Bora remained composed. Used his glove to wipe the spit off his face, never removing his eyes from Gi-hun's fiery ones. "Young-il doesn't exist, 456. His name is actually Hwang In-ho." His smirk returned when he saw those blazing eyes widening, like a pool of blood on the floor. His eyebrows trembling, mouth curved in a grimace.

Oh, how he was going to enjoy this. He was going to have so much fun breaking him piece by piece. Like a rose, eat each one of his petals until only an empty, useless stem was left.

He didn't break eye contact even as he got back on his feet.

“The games are held off until further notice,” Bora said, addressing to the players. Once the soldiers were done with In-ho, they handcuffed his unconscious form to the bed, beaten in body and spirit. Then, on Bora's orders, they started retreating.

“Do with him what you will, 456,” Bora told Gi-hun, pointing to the pathetic man a few beds ahead. “But if you do wanna get revenge, I advice you to act fast. Cause that angry crowd might beat you to it.” He then turned his head to a small crowd of people talking hushedly among each other, casting hostile glances towards Young-il’s sleeping form. Gi-hun stared at him, his heart in a grip that only loosened when he saw he was still breathing.

Although he could hardly take his eyes away, his body moved to his team. He sat with them on the floor, trying like the others to comfort a weeping Jun-hee, who was eventually knocked into sleep by exhaustion.

Gi-hun didn’t know what to think. Didn’t know what to feel. Coming up with another plan was his top priority right now, but in his heart of hearts, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was just running away. If avoiding a confrontation with Young-il was just him avoiding confronting his own feelings. Betrayal, loss, deception. He had gone throught it once, he couldn’t do it again.

“I knew it. I knew this asshole was shady. Remember the pentathlon? When he threw the spinning top all the way back? He did that shit on purpose, I’m telling you.”

“Jung-bae, this is not the time,” Gi-hun reprimanded him, “We need to come up with a plan to get out of here.”

“How, hyung?” Dae-ho said, the weight of hopelessness anchoring him to the ground like gravity.

“Listen, this was a hard day for all of us. I say we go to sleep now, we need to be well rested and clear headed. Alright everyone?”

No one went against Gi-hun’s suggestion. It wasn’t just tiredness, taking refuge in the realm of dreams could grant them temporary relief from the waking nightmare they were in. For a few hours, they all wanted to pretend none of that ever happened.

Gi-hun tried following his own advice. But even in the dark, his eyes always found the man he knew as Oh Young-il.

V - Hwang In-ho

The bruises all over his body didn’t burn as much as the scorching humiliation his once trusted second in command had put him through.

In-ho never thought he’d find himself being the one handcuffed. He had always been the one who handcuffed the criminals, the scum of society. He was the one with the keys, the one behind the gun, the one in control.

Now he was sitting under a waterfall of shame, unable to lift his eyes from the ground. He couldn’t even look at Gi-hun anymore, but he knew the man was looking at him. He could feel his eyes fixated on him, wide awake as everyone else slept.

A shifting of blankets, a sound of careful steps. Someone was coming. When those feet came into view, In-ho didn’t need to look up to know who his nightly visitor was.

Gi-hun looked down on him with his fists clenched, his jaw tight. He was breathing deeply through his nostrils, to contain the rage he was feeling inside, that rage he had cultivated and nurtured for years. In-ho slowly raised his head to look up at him.

When he saw his eyes, Gi-hun faltered. Young-il looked no different from a beggar, casted on the side of the street like trash by the unforgiving world. He looked tired, like he didn’t have anything to fight for anymore. If he ever did in the first place.

“Well? Are going to stand there and stare all night?”

“I just have one question. Why?”

In-ho smiled to himself. “It’s the same thing my brother asked me… when he found out.”

“Your brother?”

In-ho watched as Gi-hun’s furrowed brows slowly raised in realization.

“Of course. Jun-ho. You’re Hwang In-ho, his older brother.”

He was pleasantly impressed Gi-hun remembered his real name. He wondered if it was because Jun-ho had spoken incessantly about him, or Gi-hun just had a good memory like that.

“Are you mad at him?”

Gi-hun pressed his lips in a hard line at that question. At this point, what was one betrayal more? He wasn’t sure where they would be right now, if Jun-ho had told him everything. Perhaps everything might have turned out different, or perhaps not. Bora would have still tried to take siege, one way or another. And unlike the Frontman he knew, this new enemy was unpredictable, thus more dangerous.

“No. I’m actually glad to hear you’re his big brother,” He said, as he sat down next to the defeated leader. “I’ve only known Jun-ho for a few months, but I know he won’t stop looking for this island if he knows you’re here.”

In-ho clenched his jaw. His little brother was still out there on that boat, and now he had no means of contacting Captain Park, he had no way of knowing how things were going. Now that Bora was in control, he might have ordered the captain to kill them all if they got too close.

And In-ho had no one to blame but himself.

Lower lip quivering, holding back his tears was harder than fighting against all those soldiers had been.

He didn’t know how long he could force himself not to feel.

“In-ho,” Gi-hun’s voice called back his attention. “We’re on the same boat right now. We need to work together to get out of here.”

“So it’s a truce? You don’t want to kill me anymore?”

“I never wanted to kill you. I just wanted to stop you, and ask you why you do this to people.”

Gi-hun didn’t look at him as he said that. He looked at the sleeping players, those who had scorned and derided him. Yet somehow, he still wanted to save them all. He still saw a beauty in humanity, a worth that In-ho had stopped believing in a long time ago.

Rather than revenge, or heroism, what Gi-hun was looking for was closure. In-ho had been on his own crusade searching for answers long ago, when the only thing he bought with his prize money were books. He had searched for answers among his philosophy tomes, academic research and art, while Gi-hun searched for answers in people. In-ho ran away from people instead.

“Is it that important to know why?”

“It is to me.”

In-ho took a deep breath. He was in no mood for talking, but it’s not like he could do much else. He didn’t know what the morning would bring; he could see no way out of that mess. He might as well pour his heart all out.

“Gi-hun. I didn’t put this system up. The world put this system. The world works this way: if you don’t contribute to society, you’re trash. It’s nothing personal. I was like that, too. Here we give a possibility to those who have nothing to live for. They either get a second chance, or peace. It was never about making people suffer. It was to take that suffering away.”

Gi-hun scoffed.

“This is the problem with you and Oh Il-nam. You see numbers, not people. But every person here, every person who ever entered this place had a story, had loved ones, had their faults and their qualities. You don’t get to decide who deserves to live and who deserves to die, In-ho. You, your dogs and your clients are playing God.”

“And God is nothing to a non-believer, right?”

Gi-hun nodded slowly, then they both fell into a strangely comforting silence. The piggy bank wasn’t up there anymore. The reason so much blood was shed the night before, the reason so many people had died in the games was gone. Gi-hun thought he knew what that place did to people. He thought he knew how the masked men operated. He wondered how things would change now, how players were going to react to being held hostages, if they were still going to be fed.

Hostages. That’s what the Masked Officer had called them, as if it was anything new. That’s what the players had always been; hostages. Hostages to their own desperation, hostages to cruel people who take advantage of the weak with the false promise of a chance to turn into a winner.

“What does that man want? Why is he doing all of this?”

“Bora was always ambitious. He started off as a recruiter seven years ago and slowly climbed his way to second in command. He had been bugging me to talk to the VIPs about raising the budget, but I’ve always denied it.”

“So that’s all he wants. More money.”

“And more power. I always suspected he wanted my place. That’s why I was planning to substitute him.”

When it came to being a manager, Bora was extremely efficient. But when it came to dealing with people like the VIPs, In-ho knew he was absolutely incapable. He didn’t know how to deal with people in general, but that kind of people? They were particularly difficult to please. And Bora didn’t know how to be accommodating. This and the organ trafficking ring had been the last straw.

In-ho had planned to use Gi-hun to substitute him. Once put through the grinder again, he would have broken him and reshaped him into his perfect other half. Perfect to take on Bora’s place, to remain forever exactly where he was supposed to be; at In-ho’s side.

But now that he looked at him, he realized how stupid that dream had been. Gi-hun was never going to bend. He was never going to change his mind. He would have died before he let go of his beliefs. Before he let go of his kindness.

“Your brother Jun-ho told me a little about you,” Gi-hun said, and In-ho’s eyes widened. “He said you were a police officer, that he got his sense of justice from you. How could someone like that endorse all of this? And that story about your wife? Was that a lie?”

“I would never lie about Yu-jin. My wife and the baby she was carrying died almost ten years ago.”

Gi-hun turned to look at him. In his dewy eyes, there was a compassion In-ho knew he didn’t deserve.

“And what happened then? How did you end up here?”

“Oh Il-nam saved me. He gave me a purpose. When my wife and child died, I had nothing else to live for. So I devoted what was left of my life to Oh Il-nam and his legacy.”

“Was it worth it?”

“I don’t know. Was it worth it to renounce your daughter to try and stop these games?”

Gi-hun's eyebrows trembled. The tears in his eyes made In-ho wonder if he was regretting his decision. If he wished to be in Los Angeles right now, instead of this hellhole.

“I lost Ga-yeong long before I even joined the games the first time. I never deserved to be her father.”

“You’re an idiot.” In-ho didn’t take it back. Not even when Gi-hun glared at him with flaming eyes. He had told him to get on that damn plane. Nothing would have happened to him if he got on that damn plane. “If you had listened to me back then, you’d be with her right now. You’d be happy.”

“I couldn’t be happy knowing people would keep dying here.”

“People die every day, Gi-hun. You ran away because you were afraid. You thought being a hero would redeem you from all your failures.”

Gi-hun’s jaw clenched. Why was In-ho acting as a therapist now? He was the last person who could lecture him.

“I could strangle you right now.”

“If you wanna kill me, do it. I won’t stop you. But whatever Bora told you, it won’t change anything. You won’t be killing the Frontman, you’ll be killing the friend that betrayed you. As you have every right to.”

Gi-hun slowly turned his head to the side, a small sneer on the corner of his lips.

“You were never my friend.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“The others might try to hurt you.”

“So? It’s not worth it playing hero for people like me.”

“We’re all worth it. I’m taking you out of here, with all the others. And I’m taking you to your brother whether you like it or not. You’re confronting Jun-ho, and I’m not giving you a choice.”

“How are you so confident we’re getting out of here alive?”

“I have to trust Jun-ho and the others. That’s all I can do right now.”

In-ho had tried everything in his power to keep his little brother away from the island, but now his machinations were biting him in the ass.

Jun-ho was his only hope.

Maybe for once, he could have trusted his little brother to deal with things. Perhaps for once, he could have let his little brother save him.

In-ho was terrified of Bora dealing with the VIPs. As tedious as the work was, there was a reason In-ho never let him receive their guests, no matter how many times he asked. Bora was too brazen, too boisterous. If he rubbed those people the wrong way, they could have set the island on fire with all of them inside. For the first time in his life, In-ho was terrified for his own life.

Gi-hun’s chuckles distracted him ever so slightly from his worries and anxieties. He wasn’t like him to laugh in a place like this, but he sounded like someone who had just remembered something funny.

“Hwang In-ho. You’re such a fucking asshole for choosing number 001.”

“It was a strategic number. For the vote.”

“Of course. Was Oh Young-il strategic too or was it just to make fun of me?”

“I’m just not very creative.”

Gi-hun scoffed. “Fucking moron. I thought you were Oh Il-nam’s son. But you’re actually Jun-ho’s brother.”

In-ho frowned.

“Son? What on earth made you think he was my- Wait… Oh Young-il…. Fuck, I hadn’t thought of it that way…”

“Shut up…”

“No, seriously, I didn’t think of it.”

“Shut up, Mr. your last name is last name. ”

They both chuckled. They were hushed, almost suppressed chuckles exchanged in the middle of the night, careful not to wake the others. It was a moment. Only a moment. Maybe not both of them were going to make it out of there alive, but just for that one moment, In-ho felt human again. And he’d never stop thanking Gi-hun for that.

VI - The Hero's tales

The morning came, though they had no indication of it. No classical music to wake them, no sun rays to caress their faces. No window to see the sun up in the skies. The light still hadn’t been turned on when almost all ex-players woke up, in bloody, sweaty tracksuits that clinged to their skins, now signaling what they truly had been from the start: meat directed to the slaughterhouse.

Only one day ago, they at the very least had the hope of coming out of that hell, with enough money to actually start living and not just surviving. But since the masked officer had taken that hope away, they lingered in a limbo, going adrift in a black sea.

The lights turning on woke the last few people who had remained asleep. A masked worker, who now wore no mask at all, stepped into the room with a big plastic sack. He looked like a kid, about twenty years old, not older than twenty-five.

The lack of masks told Gi-hun the rules he had known hadn’t just been rewritten. They had been thrown into a vortex, shuffling the cards to the point of being unrecognizable. Chaos now reigned on the island.

“Hey, previous winner,” the kid soldier said, “Be a good senior and hand these out to the newbies.”

Gi-hun went near the door. It wasn’t the central doors, but the door the players used. The kid soldier stood there on the doorsill, not daring to enter inside. He knew that without the soldiers with rifles in their hands to intimidate the players, the risk of being attacked was high.

As soon as Gi-hun took the bag from his hands, he hastily retreated and closed the door behind him.

A few others gathered around Gi-hun, curiosity beating their fear.

“What’s in there? What did they bring?” One girl asked him.

Gi-hun opened the bag.

“Food! It’s food!” They chanted, soon people started shoving each other and trying to read their hands inside the back, but Gi-hun reclosed it hastily and stepped back.

“Hey, what gives, 456?! He said to hand those out!” The old man, Jeong-dae, said.

“We need to divide this equally!”

“Equal my ass, those rules don’t apply anymore, I say first come first serves!”

Soon Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok came to Gi-hun’s aid. Threatening to throw the food on the ground and stomp on it if they didn’t stop, they managed to make them form a line and slowly started distributing the food. It was a simple bread roll and a milk carton.

“Wait… what is this?” Once everyone was served, Hyun-ju noticed there was a paper bag at the end of the sack. Gyeong-seok came closer to look at it, and when they read the label on it, they stared at each other wide eyed before turning to Gi-hun.

Seeing their worried faces, Gi-hun was almost scared to ask. All he could do was step closer to better see the packet Hyun-ju was handing out to him.

For 456 exclusively.

Apprehension spiked until he opened it, but the only thing it contained was another bread roll like all the others. And…

“Chocolate milk?” Gyeong-seok said, bewildered that something so mysterious could hold something so ordinary.

Gi-hun almost laughed. He couldn’t drink regular milk, they must have known that. But what kind of game was Bora playing with him? With all of them? On the floor above, spread out on In-ho’s chesterfield like it was his own, Bora laughed amusedly as Gi-hun stared into the camera with defiance.

*

“Are you sure you want to drink it? What if it’s poisonous?” Jung-bae asked him.

“It’s not,” Gi-hun said, already putting the small straw into the cartoon.

“Gi-hun, I’ll give you half of mine, just don’t drink that thing.”

“It’s okay, Jung-bae, see?”

He took a small sip, among the apprehension of the others, especially Jung-bae who had his hands in his hair.

“You reckless bastard! What if it’s poison that takes a while to kick in?!”

“It’s not poisonous. It’s just a message.”

“What kind of message could chocolate milk possibly mean?" Hyun-ju was skeptical. "That you’re his favorite?”

“That the rules have changed. That we’re not all equals anymore.”

Again, a skeptical Hyun-ju raised her eyebrow. “For just some chocolate milk?”

As far as Gi-hun knew, the only two people there who couldn't drink regular milk were him and Young… no, him and In-ho. But was In-ho actually lactose intolerant, or was that part of his strategy to gain his trust? Could that have been the message Bora was trying to send him? In-ho was still there, handcuffed to the bed, lonely and cold. No one dared approach him; they avoided him as if he were carrying leprosy.

"I'm still hungry…" Jun-hee said absentmindedly, crumbling in her hand the plastic bag that had contained her share of bread. Gi-hun looked at her belly; the portions were cruelly small for any person, but for one in her condition, even more so. When he looked at her belly, any trace of empathy he could have had for In-ho suddenly disappeared. Maybe that beating hadn't been undeserved after all.

"Here, take mine."

Her eyes lit up when he handed her the bread, but when she took it, guilt suddenly pooled in her stomach.

“Mr. Seong, are you sure you want to give it to me?”

“Of course. You have to eat for two now, Jun-hee.”

“But you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, no, no no. Jun-hee is right," Geum-ja said, shoving the bread back into Gi-hun's hand. "We need you at your full strength. You’re the only one who can keep our hope up right now. May I be damned if I let you pass out in here. We’ll all share a small part of our food with Jun-hee.”

“I’m fine, really.”

No matter how much Gi-hun tried to give his bread to Jun-hee, the others didn't let him. He didn't want to eat, but they were right; he needed his full strength if they were to get out of there alive somehow. While everyone was eating their share, Gi-hun started to wonder how much food they had left on the island, since they weren’t meant to be there for more than six days. How long was it going to go on? Would they have kept feeding them? It was then that he realized the only one left without bread was In-ho.

He looked so defeated, like a man with nothing to fight for. Betrayed by the very system he had upheld, the very system he had served and believed in. Gi-hun still harbored so much rage. But if there was a chance he could save all those people, Hwang In-ho was his last hope. He used to run this place. Who better than him could help him bring it down? If only Gi-hun could make him see that not everything was over. That not even someone like him was beyond saving.

Gi-hun ignored Jung-bae’s protest as he walked towards the defeated leader, leaving the carton of milk beside him.

“I’ve only taken a few sips,” he said in response to In-ho’s quizzical gaze.

“Why are you giving it to me?”

“You can’t drink regular milk either, right?”

“So?”

“It’s not bread, but it has sugar. And I need you vigilant.”

His bloodshot eyes were locked into Gi-hun's. Neither of them moved, both of them had so much to say that no word was able to come out. In-ho only looked away when he slowly reached for the milk with his free hand, starting to take small sips.

*

“Why would you give it to him?” Jung-bae asked when he was back with them.

“Everyone needs to eat,” he said, looking at his hands in his lap. The others hadn't liked his act of kindness either, and he couldn't look into their eyes.

Jung-bae opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a group of former O voters approaching them.

They were all staring at Gi-hun, like they wanted to ask something. It was player 226 who got up to him, with the energy of someone who unwillingly had to admit he had been in the wrong. “So it was true then. You actually won this thing before.”

“I did.”

“And you came back to get revenge on him," he said, shooting a cold glance towards the former game master.

“I came back to end the games once and for all. I didn’t want anyone else to go through what I did.”

“Sorry, what you went through? You won 45.6 billion won!”

“Do you really think money solves everything?!” Gi-hun said, echoing the words he said to Ga-yeong’s stepfather long ago. “You guys have been half-way through the games now. You’ve met people in here. You ate with them, slept with them. Got to know them. And then they die right in front of you. Do you really think you can get back out there without that haunting you for the rest of your lives? I couldn’t.”

His words weighted like a boulder.

They had all been too blinded by the thought of the reward to think about the consequences. Remaining in that limbo almost started feeling more safe than going back out there. Creditors weren't the scariest thing anymore. You could always outrun them, but you can never outrun your own mind.

"If you really won this thing before, then how could you not know about all the games?" One young player asked, out of curiosity rather than out of doubt.

"The games were different when I played."

Gi-hun didn't say much else. But he could feel the question coming.

"What games did you play?"

"Dalgona, tug of war, then marbles and… then they made us cross a glass bridge… there were only sixteen of us left by then."

"Sixteen? That's almost 3 billions each! Why didn't you just leave then?"

“The rules were different when I played. If we chose to leave, we wouldn’t have gotten any money. There was no other way for us but to get to the end.”

As he talked, more and more people gathered around him. Some sat cross legged on the floor, others just dawdled around, listening to his tales, listening to him answering the questions of the curious ex-players.

“Who are the VIPs?”

“They’re the people who watch us play. They’re bored, rich people who created this games for fun.”

“Did we ever actually have a chance? To get out of here?” One boy asked, with a defeated demeanor. Gi-hun recognized him as one who had always voted X.

He just wanted to go home.

"We did with the vote. When I first played, we first voted to leave… then the most desperate of us came back to play."

"So we could have gone back home if it wasn't for him," the same boy said with a voice full of hatred, as he looked at In-ho with a sneer.

None of the former X voters were going to forget he voted to stay the first time. Especially since they all understood why now.

Gi-hun could feel the rising resentment towards In-ho. Not only that boy, most people who had voted to leave were looking at him like starving, angry wolves.

He needed to distract them before they finished the job the guards had started.

"Please don't blame anyone who has voted for O now. It's now their fault, even after we voted to leave, most of us still came back to the games later. When you're in trouble, it's hard to resist the allure of that piggy bank…"

"There's one thing I don't understand," Jun-hee said, "How come you were the only survivor? Were your games harder than the ones we played?"

"They weren't harder nor easier. But they were designed to have a sole winner."

His audience gasped.

"Why?"

"People having knowledge of this place is dangerous for them."

"Then how come they let off so many people after the vote?"

"They put a tracker in all of us. I'm sure they still have those people under surveillance. Just like they had me," Gi-hun said, pointing to the tracker behind his ear.

Panicked, the others started searching behind their own ears, disgusted and horrified when they could feel the chip underneath their skin.

"A tracker?! You mean they chipped us, like dogs?!"

“Why didn’t you tell us all that before?!" Jeong-Dae protested, "I would have never continued playing if I knew that!”

“Would you all have listened to me if I told you before?” Gi-hun said calmly. He knew the old man just needed someone to vent his anger at, and it didn't faze him. But it did faze Jung-bae.

"Are you serious right now?!" His best friend lashed out at the old man, "He tried to tell you! He did everything he could to warn us all!"

"You just didn't want to listen to him because of your greed," Hyun-ju said, her calm reproach mirroring Gi-hun's demeanor.

“We’re all on the same ship now. So I need all of us to stick together, and to work together to escape, okay?” Gi-hun said, trying to smooth their ruffled feathers.

“There is no escape. We’re trapped, like rats," Myung-gi said, defeated.

His hopeless words were like a stab through Jun-hee's chest. She put a hard on her belly, a tear rolling down her cheek. She needed to get out of there. She needed to believe she could get out of there and see her baby grow up. But how could she believe in that if not even the baby's father did?

“I have back-ups out there.”

“You do, old man?” Yeong-sam asked him, disbelief mixed with hope in his voice.

“My first plan was for my team out there to track the island. I had a tracker hidden in my fake tooth, but they found it and took it out.”

Yeong-sam scoffed. “A tracker in a tooth? Did you seriously not have anything else? You didn’t think they’d find it in here?”

“There were people sneaking cigarettes and knives in here during my first games. How was I supposed to know they’d check my teeth?”

“Well, someone did sneak drugs in here…” A girl with a long ponytail said, looking disdainfully at Nam-gyu.

“My hairpin could be a weapon and they didn't take it either," Geum-ja said, "They were onto you, gentleman.”

“Because they knew you’d try to stop them," Hyun-ju observed, everything clicking into place.

“Yeah… but my team is still out there, at sea, trying to find this island. This situation might actually play in our favor, it’ll give more time for them to find us.”

“Yeah, and how exactly are they gonna do that? I wouldn’t rely too much on them.”

Gi-hun knew it was going to be difficult. But he had to trust Jun-ho and the others. They were the only hope they had left.

“How did you even manage to get in the game again?” The same girl with the ponytail from before asked him, a sparkle of curiosity in her eyes.

“It’s a long story.”

She smiled. “We’re not exactly out of time in here.”

"Well… after repaying my debts to a group of loan sharks, I walked up to their boss and said: if you want more, I've got a job for you…"

As if the dormitory were a camp and they were around a campfire, Gi-hun became a storyteller and the other players the campers, enthranced by his stories.

He became more than that. He was the hope, the fire they all gathered around to keep warm.

Gi-hun felt like he was back to his childhood days, when the others gathered around him on the playground to hear the stories he came up with. The younger kids always used to hang from his lips.

It was different now. The stories he was telling now weren't fairy tales, and his responsibility was even bigger now. Their morale depended on him.

But having them finally listen to him gave him a boost of strength that was exactly what he needed to go forward. They could do this, he knew they could.

They would survive, and leave that he'll together.

“Listen to me, guys. We need to stop referring to each other with our numbers. That’s what they want. They dehumanize us. They think of us as horses. We need to reclaim our names.”

“We’re dozens of people. We can’t possibly remember everyone’s names," Myung-gi said.

Gi-hun pressed his lips into a hard line. Then an idea came.

He walked up to the door, knocked on the glass to catch the attention of the guard stationed outside.

"What the fuck do you want, 456? Need to take a piss?"

“Hey, could I have a marker?”

The soldier stared at him in silence. He was brought back to that time he asked the guard for chocolate milk and was ignored. Just when Gi-hun was about to press his lips in a hard line and leave, he spoke.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Gi-hun stood by, waiting.

"Boss, did you hear that?" He said into the walkie talkie once he got himself away from the door.

"Yes. There are markers in the storage room."

"You actually want me to bring it to him?"

"Relax, he can't start another uprising with just a marker."

Bora was curious to know what he would do with it. Smoking In-ho’s expensive cuban cigars, he watched as the guard brought Gi-hun the marker. Taking his jacket off, he scribbled something under his number, both on the front and the back. He couldn’t exactly see what it was, so he kept observing. Putting his jacket back on, he went back to the others, offering the marker to the granny. She gestured for the girl with the round belly to get closer, and started scribbling something on her shirt too. She did the same with the tall woman, her son and number 390.

“What the hell are they doing?”

The marker got passed around, everyone scribbled on their own and the others clothes. Then Bora finally got it. Their names. They were writing their own names on their jackets.

He bellowed, crossing his feet at the ankles on the footrest while he reclined back on the chair.

“456… You sure are amusing.”

*

The guards brought them two meals a day. It was enough to keep them going, but they were starting to feel weak.

And weakened people rarely fought back.

Despite the others casting him looks, Gi-hun took In-ho's portion of the food and brought it to him.

Three slices of ham between two slices of bread. It was surely better than nothing.

Gi-hun left the sandwich wrapped in tinfoil on In-ho's thigh, while he sat next to him, eating his own sandwich without saying a word.

“Can they hear us from here?” he whispered.

“The microphones are not that sensitive. If we keep our voices low, they won’t hear a thing.”

“I need you to teach me about the planimetry of this place.”

“Planning another revolt?”

“No. But if I’m ever to come up with something, I need to know how to move.”

Gi-hun still trusted him. Despite everything, he still had faith in people. He still had faith in him. For once, just for this once, In-ho wanted to try and put his trust in someone too. Put his trust completely in Seong Gi-hun.

“Alright, Gi-hun. Listen closely…”