Chapter Text
June 29-30, 2020
33rd games
Players dormitory
Kang Sae-byeok didn’t want to die.
She hadn’t wanted Ji-yeong to die.
She hadn’t wanted Ali to die.
Even a fragment of her hadn’t wanted Mi-nyeo to die.
Fate was cruel. Whatever god might be out there was cruel. These games were cruel.
All Sae-byeok wanted right now was to go home.
Gi-hun was beside her, whispering words she couldn’t quite understand. Or maybe he was just talking. Hell, he could’ve been shouting. Between the pain in her side and the sheer amount of blood she’d lost, it was difficult to tell. He might’ve been asking her something while his hands scrambled at her bleeding side, trying to slow the blood. Too late. It was far too late.
“Ahjussi…” she said with all the strength she could muster. “I want to go home…” Home… Do I even have a home? Would death take me there? The words she spoke sounded weak even in her current state. Pathetic and vulnerable. She couldn’t be seen as vulnerable, that could make her a target. No, that wasn’t a worry anymore. There were only three of them left. Killing each other would ruin their game, wouldn’t it.… Besides, she didn’t think it mattered if she was weak in front of Gi-hun. He wouldn’t care.
Through her foggy mind, she thought she could hear the concern in his voice.
He was concerned for her.
Here, in this place.
This man she barely knew, who she had once robbed, was worried about her instead of himself. Under normal circumstances she would have laughed.
She closed her eyes. No need to have them open anymore. There was nothing to look at. No stars in the sky. Or companions she might search for constellations with. She’d enjoyed doing that, once. Only a giant piggy bank and Gi-hun.
And then she was alone.
Alone.
Again.
Funny, for a moment, she thought she was done with being alone… Stupid.
Gi-hun was yelling —and this time she was sure it was yelling— like he was calling for help. Why? She was beyond saving.
Just like her grandparents.
Just like her older brother.
Just like her father.
Just like Ji-yeong
“HEY! GET IN HERE, PLEASE! SHE’S LOST A LOT OF BLOOD!”
Gihun. Why did he try so hard? What did he see in her that made him think she was worth saving? Both now and in the night brawl. What did he see in the world that made him so damn hopeful about humanity. He kept shouting. More words. Difficult to understand.
Banging on the door.
“YOU NEED HER ALIVE IF YOU WANT HER TO PLAY THE DAMN GAME!”
The game?
”No…” Sae-byeok whispered softly, barely audible. “Please… I don’t want to play anymore.” She couldn’t play anymore. Just one more game might be enough to break her. She didn’t want to kill Gi-hun. She didn’t want to end up like Sang-woo, driven by nothing but greed. She hadn’t wanted Gi-hun to become like that either. He had been the first good person she'd met in a long time.
No, that wasn’t true.
The first good person would have been Ji-yeong. Ji-yeong, who had died because of Sae-Byeok. If Sae-byeok had just kept her mouth shut, if she had insisted on playing a real game instead of talking, maybe Ji-yeong wouldn’t have sacrificed herself. Maybe she would’ve gotten out of this hellhole. Maybe she could have found a new path and left her father, past and all her pain behind.
‘That’s right,’ said the voice that had been haunting her for the last day and a half. Ji-yeong’s voice. ‘I could have lived. I might’ve found something to live for. But you stole that chance from me. That’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? You stole Gi-hun’s chance of avoiding this place when you took his money. You stole Cheol’s chance at happiness when you abandoned him at that orphanage. You stole your mothers chance at freedom when you abandoned her in the North. You deserve this.’
Some distant part of Sae-byeok wanted to argue against this. She did what she had to! She didn’t know that she and Ji-yeong would have to go against each other! She needed the money to help find her mother! She had no other choice than to leave her little brother behind, it was the safest option! And she was trying her best to find her mother and bring her to the South, to live a better life. She just hadn’t thought that it would involve this much sacrifice.
She wasn’t that bad of a person… was she?
…
What’s happening?
The thought entered her mind and she felt like a child again. A child who wondered why her brother was so cold and so still. A child wondering where her sweet older cousin had gone. A child who knew nothing of the real world, and of the horrors it held.
There was silence all around her. How long has it been quiet? Seconds? Minutes? She’d been so out of it she’d lost track of time. Now, however, she was a little more lucid. A little would have to do. Gi-hun was quiet, his shouting silenced by something. For a moment she felt a spike of panic. Had Sang-woo decided to quiet him for good? Did he decide to kill his friend when he was distracted like a coward? If Gi-hun was gone, Sang-woo would have only Sae-byeok to contend with, and she was in no condition to fight him. If Gi-hun was gone, there would be no chance for Cheol…
She needed to do something! She didn’t want anyone else to die. She couldn’t let Gi-hun die because of her. As pathetic as he was it wouldn’t be right to—
Gloved hands seized hold of her, slipping underneath her upper arms and grabbing her ankles, lifting her up and off the flimsy mattress that would have been her death bed.
Oh.
It hadn’t been Gi-hun who was dying, it had been her.
Of course it was. It was stupid to think otherwise. The blood loss was preventing her from thinking straight.
The guards presumed her already dead and were taking her away to dispose of her corpse.
No… Not yet. I’m not gone yet. I’m not dead. I haven’t failed.
Sae-byeok wanted to scream. A moment ago, she had accepted her fate. She’d thought— she’d known she was going to die and begged Gi-hun to take care of her brother and maybe find her mother so she wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. She thought she might have the chance to see her father and brother again. Maybe even apologize to Ji-yeong for making her sacrifice pointless.
Now that it was really happening, now that she would be either killed or left to die alone in some coffin, she didn’t know what to do. Could she try to run? Definitely not. Could she reach the steak knife in her pocket? Fighting wasn’t an option, not in her state. But maybe she could make it quick and slit her own throat. No, not with the guards holding her arms the way they were.
Gi-hun was shouting again, the words just as unintelligible as they had been when he’d first discovered her injury. The tone was difficult to discern, but might’ve been anger. She couldn’t tell who it was directed at, her, the guards, or maybe even Sang-woo.
‘Are you really just going to let them take you?’ whispered Ji-Yeong’s voice. You're pathetic, sure, but you didn’t kill me just so you could go down quietly without a fight.
Sae-byeok cracked her eyelids. Not even enough to be noticeable, as sad as it was it was the best she could do. Faintly she could make out the pink jumpsuit and circle mask of the person carrying her legs, behind him there was movement. Someone in black being shoved down by one in pink. In her peripheral vision, she saw the coffin with the pink bow.
To her it felt like time had slowed. Each step the guards took towards her coffin seemed like they were trying to sludge through syrup . Slowly, she opened her mouth and managed to speak through all the pain and confusion…
“Please…”
Did she imagine it or did the Circle masked guards holding her hesitate ? For barely half a second, their steps faltered. Did they hear her? Then they started moving again. Shuffling one more step over then lowering her into the coffin.
As they did so, one of the hands on her upper arm tightened slightly, giving her arm a squeeze. As if trying to give her some comfort as they sealed her fate. They placed her in a coffin and set the lid on top, plunging her in complete darkness.
Seconds passed like days as Sae-byeok fought with her foggy brain to stay focused and awake. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in her coffin but the more time that passed, the harder it was to stay alert.
Don't think about the pain. Don’t think about the blood you’ve lost. Don’t think about what awaits you. Don't think about how you’ve failed everyone. Think about something else!
What? Another part of her demanded to know, What else is there to think about? Your plans? All the places you could go once you escaped the games? That voice was beginning to sound similar to Ji-yeong’s. Funny. Somewhere deep inside, Sae-byeok knew that wasn’t right. Ji-yeong wasn’t cruel like this. She wasn’t callous or malicious. She had more empathy in one single moment than Sae-byeok had possessed in her entire life. Even with that thought lurking in the back of her mind, it was still the cold and heartless Ji-yeong that spoke to her now.
‘Where are you going to go? You can’t run anymore. There is nowhere to hide. So, why not sleep? Rest like we can’t. Let Gi-hun deal with Cheol from now on. Let him find your damn mom. There’s nothing you can do now anyway. You've failed.’
Sae-byeok couldn’t find the will to protest anymore. Not here, trapped in this gift wrapped coffin. Slowly, she began to drift off. Whether or not she would ever wake up again she didn’t know. But as the world faded to oblivion, she allowed herself to pretend she was somewhere happier, somewhere where her family was, where maybe even Ji-yeong could be.
Maybe even a home.
— — — —
June 29-30, 2020
33rd games
VIP 2 room
“Isn’t it nice when things actually go according to plan?”
John watched the screen before him with amusement. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the circle guards lower Player 067 into her coffin. He swirled the whisky in his glass as Player 456 charged the guards, trying to… what? Help 067? She was beyond that. Well, help from him.
“Oh Il-nam, you chose some good ones this year. You always seem to pick the most desperate bastards around. Perhaps that's why your games continuously outperform mine.”
His companion, the whisky bottle, gave no response.
”Well,” John said, draining his cup, “they’ll be playing my game soon enough.”
He was not an ordinary VIP. No, not even close. He hadn’t come all the way to Korea just to watch some broke assholes kill each other. No, he had come on a quest for business.
He knew from experience how difficult these games were to have, just finding people and all the expenses required would place the gamemakers in dangerous financial territory. In his own country, America, or the U.S.A, John ran his own version of these games. Yes, he had to credit Il-nam with the original idea. Having grown adults play children's games to the death was highly entertaining. But, in John’s opinion, just because this game was the original, didn’t mean that it was the best.
Which was why he found it so surprising when he started losing funds for his games. The other VIPs –the normal ones– seemed to think these Korean games were more entertaining than his American ones. And that simply wasn’t good for business.
John had spent the last decade working to get closer and closer to Oh Il-nam, to see what had made his games so much more appealing than his. In the year 2015, he’d finally been invited to the island to watch. That was when he had his answer. Player 132 had been the winner that year, and he was also an intriguing man. Driven not by greed, but by desperation. By love for his dying wife (much like how Player 067 was driven by the need to save her family).
The day Player 132 had killed his fellows just to win, was the day John had started to plan.
He had nothing against Il-nam, of course. Hell, he liked the man. Oh Il-nam was crazy, but also a genius. Who else could think up a plan like this? What a creative way to get rid of the trash of the world. John had nothing but respect for him. Il-nam’s games, however… they had to go. Nothing personal, just business.
A knock came at the door to his chambers and he sighed. Why must everyone interrupt his little moments of triumph? John had so few of those lately, it would be nice if some people would let him enjoy it. He waited to answer the door. Best to be sure it was who he was expecting and not some stupid circle man. A moment later, a series of knocks came. Three quick ones, two slow ones, then what sounded like a kick to the sturdy door. Smiling once again, John got up from his cushy sofa and meandered across his intricately decorated VIP chambers to open the door, allowing the triangle masked soldier into his room.
“Raffle!” He greeted the man jovially, “I trust everything’s going well on your end as well as it is on mine?”
The masked man nodded, “As well as it could be.” His English was surprisingly good. Little to no accent to it. “The girl is still alive —shockingly— and Woo-jin and the Circle we paid are smuggling her down to the boat as we speak. The Captain, Evie, and the Doc are ready to take her out of here and back to the mainland.”
”And the distraction we had planned? Will we be needing it?”
”Don’t think so, Boss. It seems that something has… distracted the Frontman. As far as I’m aware, he’s too preoccupied to notice or care that one circle guard has gone missing. Probably won’t find the body either. Besides, Jae-wook has switched the camera footage, overlapping the current video with an old one. They won’t know I’ve visited you, they won’t know we killed a Circle and replaced him with one of our own, and they won’t realize that Player 067 was never truly dead. Probably. ” Why couldn’t this man be certain about anything? It was always a ‘probably’ with him. He wouldn’t be a good business man.
Still, John nodded, satisfied. “Are we positive that your doctor is competent? If that girl dies, we're going to have to wait till next year to get our hand on another player. And that’s hoping they'll be good ones for this job.”
Raffle shrugged, “He once patched me up after I was stabbed. There’s bad scaring but I’m fine.”
”Good, good, c’mere my boy. Let me treat you to some whisky. Have you ever had the stuff? I’m not sure someone like you could afford something of this quality.” John led the way back to his luxurious sofa, plopping down with enough room for Raffle to join him. The soldier didn’t, instead choosing to stand next to the sofa with arms crossed.
“So,” Raffle said, watching as John poured himself and the other man a cup, “why her? Personally, I would have thought that Player 218 would have been better suited for our needs. Clever, ruthless… seems like the kind of guy you’d like to have around.”
John smirked and handed the lad a cup with a generous amount of whisky in it (though not as much as John had in his). The man hesitated, then removed his mask. He was young, likely only a year or two older than little 067. His hair was buzzed almost to nothing, with what was left of it dyed a purplish-pink. He had dark eyes that always seemed like he was planning something. On his temple was a small tattoo of a revolver. ‘Raffle’ wasn't the boy's real name, John couldn’t remember what it actually was, so he just went with what the rest of the crew called him. When he had inquired about how the man had earned the nickname. The only answer Evie had given him had been a laugh and a ‘It’s a long and disturbing story, boss. I’ll tell you some other time’
Originally, Raffle had been one of his guards, working in the American games as a gunman. But in the year 2016, under orders from John, he returned to Korea (his home country) and managed to get himself recruited as a circle guard, eventually being promoted to a Triangle soldier. He would have to stay with these games for a few more years now in order for John’s plan to work. Shame. He was a good soldier, truly. He never had an issue with taking out that human trash of the world.
”Let me show you something.” John said, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. He pointed it at the screen before him (which was currently showed an image of the players room with only Play 456 and 218 inside, presumably glaring at each other)he rewinded the footage back (as he had done at least 5 times in the last 10 minutes, relishing in his victory) stopping at the point where 456 walked over to 067. Their view of the room was limited, only allowing them to look down at the scene from above. 067 raised her knife in defense and 456 placed his own knife in his pocket to show he wasn’t a threat and sat down beside the girl.
There was no audio. The VIPs had only been provided with the camera footage in case a fight broke out among the players. If one of the finalists died in a dramatic night-duel that was worth watching, unlike the chaotic brawl that had happened a few nights earlier. It was clever to give finalists knives. Not like the 2015 game, where only 132 had been given one to force him to make a choice. In this situation, with only three left, it was much more dramatic to have them all armed. Especially considering the fact that they were all once on the same team.
Several moments of silence. It appeared like 456 and 067 were talking. Eventually, Raffle seemed to grow curious.
“What… am I looking for, exactly?” Raffle asked, watching as 456 got up and started towards the now sleeping 218.
“Shush,” John snapped. It wouldn’t be fun if he ruined the surprise by telling the boy.
456 stopped abruptly, as if called back by something, likely 067. For a moment, he just stood there, dumbly. Fool man, he could’ve ended it there. John would’ve done it, regardless of what the dying girl said. Behind 456, 067 slumped over in her bed. He noticed and rushed over, trying to wake her up before running over to the main door into the dormitory. Fatal mistake. John couldn’t understand how this man had managed to survive this long in these games if he was stupid enough to begin shouting when there was an asleep killer lurking in the same space as him (it was astonishing, truely).
On the other side of the room, 218 jolted awake. The man quickly figured out what was going on and rose, walking over slowly, quietly, over to where 067 lay defenseless. Knife in hand, preparing to put the poor thing out of her misery.
However, before he reached her, the doors opened, allowing the masked men (all of whom John had paid to help out 067) to enter the players dormitory.
The two circles, one of which would be Woo-jin (probably the taller one carrying her by the arms) placed the girl in the gift wrapped coffin. While they were doing this 456 noticed 218 standing there, watching, still clutching his steak knife. 456 charged 218 and was quickly stopped and restrained by the guards.
The coffin that held Player 067 was carried out of the room.
A gift, from Il-nam to John. She would be the key to toppling these Korean games.
He paused the recording when 456 was being dragged forcibly back to his bed with 218 walking back mostly of his own accord, though with a gun pointed at his back.
“What did you see?” John asked.
Raffle tilted his head to one side, “A man caring too much about someone who he met only a few days ago.”
“What do you think they talked about? Before she fainted, what do you think she asked him to do? If you were wounded and about to die, far from home, what would be your one true concern?”
“... I’m not sure.”
“I have an idea.” John leaned over and plucked a folder from the coffee table. He waved it at Raffle and the soldier hesitantly took it and opened it. His eyes widened when he saw what it was.
“Player files?” he asked, flicking through the various files before him. They were in English, of course, seeing as John couldn’t read Korean.
“That’s right!” John beamed, “Our host was kind enough to provide us with information on the final sixteen players so we could know who to bet on. It’s always the same each year, during the last two games when the betting gets more and more intense, they give us the files on the final few players, in order to give us a better idea about who actually has a shot at winning. Something about little 067 caught my eye. Can you find it?” Wait, could the lad even read English?
“She’s from the North,” Raffle said instantly. He’d paused to look at a certain file, presumably 067’s. “She defected in 2018, when she did she left her parents behind. Been taking care of her little brother ever since. Might have a cousin who also defected. Says here most of her debt came from borrowing money to pay brokers to find her parents and bring them over the border.”
“Oh– yes…” John said, a little disappointed that he’d figured it out so quickly. “She has a family, she has a reason to leave this place. I want her to join us because I can offer both her and her family safety. If, of course, she decided to work for me. If she doesn’t… then, well, things won’t end well for those she loves.” He hesitated, then decided he couldn’t take it and said,“ By the way, did you get all that just from the file? Or was it you monitoring her marbles game?”
“No, I’m pretty sure that was Soldier 11.” Raffle handed back the file, “I was in charge of 199 and 218…” he trailed off, just long enough to make John wonder whether or not there was something he was missing. Before he could ask what Raffle continued, “Evie’s been helping me learn to read both English and Korean, seeing how poor my education was both here and in the U.S.”
“Didn’t you drop out of school in both countries?”
“That’s… a generous way of putting it.” he paused, “What happened during their marbles game? 067 and 240’s, I mean. I heard from the other VIP’s it was… interesting. They seem befuddled by the actions of 240, though I never heard what she actually did.”
“Eavesdropping again, Raffle?” John smirked, “240 managed to convince 067 to talk about their pasts. Truly tragic, both of them. But at the end, 240 seemed to decide that the girl was worth saving, and purposely lost the game so she could live.” He flicked through the files back to the one on 067 and smiled at the line in the notes section that had been added after that game
Father killed when crossing the Chinese border. Mother somewhere in North Korea.
Information gathered from the footage collected from the guards body camera. The recordings were primarily used so the VIP’s could watch the games from the comfort of their own homes before coming to the island for the final two games. It wasn’t often that they picked up information about the players that wasn’t known prior to the games, but when they did, it was always recorded in case it could impact who was bet on. Whoever thought to add notes about players' personal lives was a genius. It wasn’t Il-nam. The Frontman maybe?
“Another reason why I chose her from this task,” John said, “240’s noble sacrifice will work to our advantage. Should the girl choose to work against us, we’ll have to kill her to prevent our secrets from reaching the wrong ears. We could tell her that we’ll kill her brother as well, and her mother should she ever reach the South. If we’re clear about this I doubt she’d try anything. It would be a shame for 240 to have died in vain.”
Raffle glanced at him, “You believe she asked 456 to take care of her family, or something similar,” he said, bringing the conversation back to John’s original question. “She believed she was going to die. So she asked the person she trusted the most in this place to make sure the people she loves were safe. When she survives and we explain our intentions, we threaten her brother and hope that she listens.”
John scoffed, sipping his drink, “Well when you put it like that it sounds bland.”
“How do you know what she spoke to 456 about?” Raffle asked, “It could have been negotiating a truce, or an apology, or plotting against 218.”
“Because, my boy, someone like her doesn’t take very many chances. I’ve seen her kind before. Both in and outside these games. They pick people to care about then protect them at all costs. She knew she was going to die, and she wasn’t going to leave her family’s fate up to chance. She’s not going to even if she lives. All she wants is a home she’s never got to have.”
“Boss, she isn’t going to be able to go home for a long time,” Raffle pointed out, “Once she’s out of the games and healed up enough, we’re going to have to get her to America in order to avoid these people finding out. Then we have to wait for any suspicion to fade before bringing her back and hoping everything goes smoothly from there. If it goes wrong, she’ll either be killed, or brought back into the games and killed here.”
Hmmm, might be being too lenient with this one. John sighed, “Are you trying to get me to explain the entirety of my plan? Be blunt with me, boy. I can take it.”
Raffle locked eyes with him, “You know I’m always willing to take a chance. Batshit crazy plans are why you and the Frontman keep me around, but I don’t see how dragging this poor girl from one hell into the next will benefit us. If I knew all that was going to happen, then maybe I could better understand–”
Yeah, definitely too lenient. Can’t have him questioning orders now. “Don’t you have work to be doing?” John interrupted.
“I–”
“Listen, I know you are curious, but I have everything under control. All you have to do for the moment is your part.” He’d been too open with the boy before this, he saw that now. In his moment of triumph he’d momentarily forgotten that this was his underling, his employee. It was best to keep one's employee informed only on what they needed to know. Right now, Raffle only needs to worry about this stage of the plan. “Do you know where each and every guard we paid off is located?” he asked, hoping to distract the boy.
“Yes…” Raffle said reluctantly.
“Good. Kill them all and do it discreetly. We can’t have them turning on us.”
Raffle nodded. That was something he could understand. Any potential risks to one's business had to be exterminated. The only reason John allowed people like him, Evie, Jae-wook or Woo-jin to remain alive was because they had no other choice. They were indebted to him, and they knew what he’d do to them and their loved ones should they turn on him. And also, they were all good killers when it came down to it.
“There have been a few executions within the last few hours. I’m not sure what happened but the Frontman had been ordering the deaths of several of the guards. Both Triangles and Squares. We can get away with killing the few we paid off and incinerating them if we do so quickly.”
“Good.” John stood and clapped him on the back, taking the cup from the soldier as he did so. “Leave the other manager operating the cameras. I know who she is on the outside and don’t think she’ll talk. Get going. Grab Evie and Woo-jin to help you if you need to. I want this done cleanly, you hear me, my boy? We can’t afford screw ups right now.”
“You got it, boss.” Raffle mumbled. He took out his mask and put it on. He radioed the manager who was being spared and Jae-wook, asking them to keep the cameras off him as he carried out his assigned task. With a nod to John, he left the VIP room.
John turned back to the TV screen before him. Smiling once again. He set down Raffle’s still full cup next to the golden buffalo mask on the coffee table. He then picked up the remote and switched off the TV.
“Sorry, old friend,” he said to a man who could not hear him. Oh Il-nam had done so much for him the last few years. But in order for John to profit from his own games he had to…make a few sacrifices.
“It’s just business.”