Chapter Text
November 1, 2024
37th games Day one: Red light Green Light
Players Dormitory
There was silence in the dormitory.
The players had all been led back after Red light Green light and were waiting for the guards to come back in to explain what the hell just happened. Or just waiting for death. Whichever came first.
Gi-hun, however, didn’t think about the guards, or the games, or the votes that would supposedly come.
Sae-byeok was alive.
She was alive and had been all this time. She had survived the games just like he had and was back to fight again. Was it a mistake? Had she somehow managed to sneak off the island after the games? Whatever had happened, it didn’t matter now, because Kang Sae-byeok was alive.
He could see her now, sitting with Players 240, 380 and 199 (who he now recognized as Woo-jin, the boy from the brokers office) on some stairs that connected the beds. She was a step above the others, like she had always done with their team so everyone was in her line of sight.
“I don’t trust people. Especially in a place like this.”
Apparently that still held true.
It was cruel. He could recall her sitting on her bed, dying, covered in her own blood and asking to go home. She’d never gotten to go home, had she? She had escaped and been taken back, just like he had. Where had she been all this time? Did the games haunt her just as much as they haunted him? Did she cope better than he had? She was always the stronger one. She did look a little bit thinner than before and more tired.…
“Gi-hun what was that doll thing?”
Right, Jung-bae was here. Gi-hun had almost forgotten his other worries. Idiot, He scolded himself
“Was it shooting people with its eyes?”
“No,” Gi-hun replied, finally tearing his eyes off the girl who’d helped change his life. “They’ve got shooters in the walls, like I said before.”
“How did you know?” Jung-bae asked. An obvious question, but one Gi-hun had been dreading. It would not be fun to explain that he’d played these games before and he was the only one to survive. Thankfully, he was spared from answering by the guards who entered the dormitory. All the players hastily scrambled back in a desperate attempt to put as much distance between them and the guards as possible.
“Congratualtions on making through your first game,” said the one with the Square mask. Gi-hun didn’t miss the fact that they had brought in Triangle guards with guns this time, not the unarmed Circles. “Here are the results of the first game.”
The numbers on the screen above him began to go down. 456 turning into 365. Better than the previous game he played, but still too many were left dead. 91 had been eliminated
“Congratulations again for making it through the first game.” The Square repeated.
“SIR!”
Gi-hun twisted around to see who’d shouted. Player 149, the one who was here with her son. Poor woman.
“Please don’t kill us!” she pleaded. “Please don’t kill us. I beg you!” she dropped to her knees. “As for my son's debt, I’ll do whatever it takes to pay you back, I swear!” she began grabbing at 007’s tracksuit pulling him down with her.
It didn’t take long for others to come pouring off the stairs and join the mother and son in begging the guards. Begging for their lives. If these games continued, they would all die. The masked man tried to claim that they weren’t here for money and they were just presenting the players with an opportunity, but Gi-hun didn’t care to listen.
“Clause three of the consent form!” he shouted over people begging and the Square manager. Heads slowly turned to him as he stepped away from the beds and towards the guards. “‘The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.’ Is that correct?” Was this how Sang-woo felt last time? A savior to the people?... Or maybe Sang-woo was just trying to save his own skin. Hell, he’d been the one to ask for a vote and had the audacity to vote to stay. Sang-woo was not someone Gi-hun should strive to be like in this place.
“That is correct,” the Square man admitted.
“Then let’s vote, right now.”
For a moment, Gi-hun expected the guard to disagree. It would be the most logical choice considering how many people were begging to leave…
“Of course,” the Square man said. “We respect your freedom of choice.”
Hope began to fill Gi-hun’s chest and going off the expressions of those who’d been begging, he wasn’t the only one.
“But first, let me announce the amount of money that had been accumulated as a result of the previous game.” the guard lifted his remote.
Of couse… Gi-hun thought darkly as the light in the room took on a yellowish tint and everyone began to move towards the center of the room, watching the missive piggy bank above. That was what had happened before. Show off the money in an attempt to bait people into playing more games. He gave Jung-bae a disapproving look as his friend moved with the crowd, then spared a glance for Sae-byeok and felt a stab of relief when he saw her staying where she was, choosing to observe the other players instead of the money. If she wants to team up again, I’ll already have two allies. Her and Jung-bae might be nice to have around for future games.
“91 players were eliminated in this round. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won had been accumulated. Currently, there are 365 players remaining. The money will be divided evenly, resulting in 24,932,500 won per player.”
Oh boy… For most of these people, that wasn’t nearly enough.
“20 mil? What happened to 45.6 billion?” the purple haired man demanded.
“The rules state that a hundred million won will be earned for each eliminated player. If you wish to continue to the next game and more players are eliminated, the prize amount will increase.”
There were more questions, and with each one, Gi-hun grew more and more worried. No. No, no, no. How could these people be considering this? Are they really choosing to risk death from a little money? Not that he could really judge, considering what he’d done in his previous games.
Only the fact that not everyone was speaking up kept Gi-hun from screaming out reprimands. Some people still had reason. He didn’t need to intervene. Not yet anyway…
The vote went horribly.
He voted to leave, obviously, but quickly discovered not everyone had come to their senses yet. There were still people who wanted to continue. People who were willing to put not just their own lives, but others on the line for money.
The players he’d taken note of before made their choices.
Jung-bae voted to leave. Thankfully. Gi-hun had been more than a little concerned about him.
380, the one who’d been hanging around Woo-jin during Red light Green light, voted to stay. He didn’t know enough about her to know if he should blame her.
240, the one who shared a number with one of his old allies and was Sae-byeok’s friend, also voted to stay, and gave her and Woo-jin a little thumbs up as she did so.
When Player 230, the purple hair man, skipped up and gleefully slapped the circle button, Gi-hun couldn’t take it anymore.
“Wait a minute, everyone! Wait!”
-— —- —- —-
Gi-hun, what are you doing…
Sae-byeok wanted to hide in embarrassment when she heard Gi-hun speak up during the voting. His persistence with the other players was admirable, but a little… too much. Nobody believed him and would only distrust him more if he continued to shout about how this was wrong and how they needed to end this. He was really trying to get everyone to just leave the game, which was fine. But if they decided to leave this time around, there was no coming back to play again, which was good for them, but not for Sae-byeok
Now, she listened while Gi-hun argued with Player 100 and a few others, they were fighting about whether or not Gi-hun actually had the right to tell the others what to do. 100 demanded to know if he was a plant to confuse the players, and Players 149 and 390 thankfully stepped in to defend him. Still, people questioned him. Asked how he knew what would happen in the Red light Green light game. Question after question was called out rapidly, so many that it was impossible to make any of them out. Then, through the chaos, Gi-hun shouted…
“I’VE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE!”
Silence fell among the players, all of whom were now staring at Gi-hun.
“Ahjussi…” Sae-byeok mumbled, averting her gaze. Good for him making a statement, but still not the smartest move. It would’ve been wiser to keep his mouth shut about everything.
“I’ve played these games before… I have done this before.” he said, a little more calmly than he had a second before. “And I’m not the only one…” He looked towards Sae-byeok
Seriously? Her cheeks grew hot and she hoped she wasn’t blushing. Why do you have to bring me into this? She briefly considered denying it. They all thought that Gi-hun was crazy anyway. It might not be too hard to get people to think he was lying. But that was unfair to him. There would also be questions. Questions on why she was singled out, why he kept staring at her (as he had been for the last several minutes), and whether or not she truly had participated in these games before and was just pretending not to. No. Even if she denied it, it would lead to too many complications. But if Gi-hun kept up, shouting about playing before and trying to rally everyone together like this it would cause even more problems for her than just staying quiet. Best to confront him now.
“Do you have to drag me down with you, Ahjussi?” She demanded, stepping forward to meet him. Players moved out of her way to allow her to join the little group arguing in the center of the room.
“You survived as well,” Gi-hun said, seeming hurt by the tone of her voice but deciding to ignore it, “Please, tell them what happened. How you did it.” His expression seemed to silently say, And so I can know as well.
“What does it matter?” she snapped, putting on a show. One of her tasks had been to keep the gamemakers attention off of Raffle, Evie, and Woo-jin; entertainment was the best distraction. However one downside to this was the VIPs who were no doubt watching would probably just be entertained by the theatrics.
“You left me to bleed out in the shitty bed. Why pretend you care now?” she continued, trying to keep her voice steady. Though she told herself it was just a show, part of it was true. Why had he left her there when he acted like he cared? Why had he done something so foolish as to shout and bang on the door?
You need her alive if you want her to play the damn game
If she’d stuck around for the final game she would’ve been easy prey. Was it possible Gi-hun had thought of that and just wanted to make life easier for himself? Or use her as bait so he could beat Sang-woo? That was absurd… right?
Don’t think about the past. Focus on what's happening right now.
Murmurs erupted out all around them. Gi-hun made those dumb puppy eyes he did whenever someone upset him.
“I–”
“What are you even doing here?” she asked, interrupting him. “Why are you trying so damn hard to save these people? How is that going to help their situations?”
“I came back to end this game for good. I don’t want anyone else to die here.” The way he said it was somehow sincere, pathetic and heartbreaking all at the same time.
“For good?” The scoff she gave was real. Was he serious? Ending the games was possible (according to John at least), but Gi-hun’s current strategy wasn’t likely to work. “Hate to break it to you, but ending these games now, won’t end them for good.” She gestured around to the gathered player. “Sure, maybe these assholes get to go home with 20 mil and are able to pay off all their debts some other way. But then the gamemakers will just find some more people to play again. They already have everything set up.” She glanced up at the piggy back, “And they’ll have only lost 9 billion. Which, compared to 45.6 billion, isn’t a lot for them.” She took a step closer to Gi-hun. “By ending it here, the only people who are actually benefiting are the ones who did this.”
He stared at her for a moment. “You’re wrong,” he said, “You’re wrong.” desperate words from a desperate man.
“Am I? Think about it.”
Another voice cut in before Gi-hun could respond.
“You both played before?” It was Player 100. The one Sae-byeok had started to dislike almost immediately. He was the most vocal about playing another game and had accused Gi-hun of working with the gamemakers. Not for logical reasons, but because Gi-hun was trying to help. “How much money did each of you get?”
She glared at him for a moment before responding. “Me? Nothing. I escaped, not won. They dragged me back here probably because I never completed the games.” It was difficult to keep her voice calm, especially with everyone’s attention on her. She didn’t like being in the front of a crowd or pretending to be as enraged as she was, but it was for the best. She could continue this facade for now. “Him? 45.6 billion won.”
“That was the blood money of all those who died.” Gi-hun snapped, finally seeming to get angry with her. Good. This time they couldn’t be allies. “Ali’s money. Sang-woo’s money. Your little friend, 240’s money. Hell, some of it is even yours! None of that ever belonged to me.”
She felt a little pang in her chest when he spoke, though she had no right to. The way she had been acting was worse than what he was currently saying to her. Way worse.
He has to stay away. It’s for his own good. I have to push him away now before Evie, Woo-jin and I put our plan into motion or else he’ll want to help and just get killed. If they did team up and she failed to do what she’d come here to do, he would get dragged down with her. And besides, his desire to save everyone would just be a liability.
Player 100 wasn’t done. “So, these people will actually pay us if we win. They will give us what we’re owed.” An eager look entered the older man’s eyes.
“From how I see things,” said Player 230 as he strutted over. “This is good news for the rest of us.” He jabbed two fingers at Gi-hun and Sae-byeok, “These two can help the rest of us win.”
“No. Not happening,” Sae-byeok said. “If you all win, there will still only be a 20 million won prize even if we complete all six games. But, that will likely be impossible. Last time there were a few games where everyone living wasn’t an option. Things like Glass bridge and Tug of War. Another thing, it’s possible the games won’t be the same ones we played before.” she motioned towards the voting screen and the piggy bank. “This whole ‘divide the prize equally among players’ wasn’t an option before. If the games are different, we’ll be going in blind, just like you.” Please leave me alone after this.
230 considered this for a moment, “You’re smart, senorita," he acknowledged begrudgingly.
“That brain could get you far,” 100 said with way too much enthusiasm. “I see why you survived the first time. Perhaps we could work together. With our minds combined we might–”
She immediately turned away. Already trying to herd around those who might help him win. Sae-byeok thought. Just like Deok-su. Best to keep an eye on this one.
“Sae-byeok.” Gi-hun grabbed her shoulders. Not roughly, just enough to force her to look at him. “You really can’t be doing this. You know it’s wrong. Please, If we get out of here I promise I’ll–” he cut off as a triangle guard placed their rifle at his back. He slowly lifted his hands and backed away.
“From this moment on we will not be tolerating any further actions that would disrupt the democratic voting process.” the Square manager said.
Sae-byeok watched Gi-hun being herded back to his spot among the X voters as the next person went up to vote. She backed up into the crowd of people waiting for their turn.
For a moment, a small gut-wrenching moment, she wanted to call out to him. To apologize for how she acted. To ask him to trust her even though he had absolutely no reason to–
‘Right. Trust you. You don’t trust a single damn person in this room. Not fully, at least.’ Ji-yeong’s voice was back. Haunting her.
No. You're wrong. I can trust Woo-jin and Evie. They’ve stuck with me ever since those first games and they agreed to come here to help me with this job. I still trust Gi-hun. He’s a little… naive, but he’ll still do the right thing. He’s not going to betray me. I do trust people now. I do!
Ji-yeong laughed. Oh come on, Kang Sae-byeok! You don’t need to lie to me! Woo-jin and Evie work for John, not you! They have no loyalty to you! You might say you trust Gi-hun, but does he think the same of you? You just mocked him in front of everyone. Who would still want to be around you after that? Face it, Sae-byeok, there’s no one here you can trust. There never was.
… I trusted you, Ji-yeong. The words seemed so small when she thought them.
‘And look where that got me.’
Person after person cast their vote. Player 222 voted X. Woo-jin voted O and joined Evie and Se-mi on the side that glowed blue. Player 120 voted O as well, surprising Sae-byeok slightly. She’d assumed the woman would be like Ali and want to leave. Apparently not.
Finally, it was Sae-byeok’s turn. She walked up, footsteps seeming louder than anyone else’s as every single eye in the room turned to her. It appeared that her little spat with Gi-hun had made her someone to take note of. Definitely not what she wanted right now.
She reached the podium with the button and tapped the blue O with barely hesitation. The moment the guards had explained the rules of the voting, she’d known what had to be done. If all the players left with a share, those who wanted to leave could do so and never look back. But those who needed to stay couldn’t. They would never get a chance like this again. And unfortunately, Sae-byeok couldn’t afford to leave just yet.
The guard handed Sae-byeok an O patch and she placed it on her chest. As she turned, she caught sight of Gi-hun watching her with sadness and betrayal.
-— —- —- —-
The first meal time within the games was almost always the same. Little boxes full of rice, bits of meat, and other things, like a lunch a mother would pack for their kid before school. It was a tradition to serve something like that on the first night of the games. In-ho didn’t know why, but he’d kept it after Il-nam died just for old times sake.
Seong Gi-hun didn’t seem to care to eat. His friend, 390, was attempting to force feed him a spoonful of rice. Player 456 kept his head turned away, ignoring it until 390 finally gave up and ate it himself. 390 made some comment about how 20 million wasn’t enough money for him, and 456 got defensive, saying that someone else said the same thing years ago.
That’s when In-ho, along with several others, approached him. 456 tried to tell them that they made the wrong choice, that they should have left when they had the chance. In-ho had to admire his persistence, but how far would that need to save everyone go? And how would he react if he thought that he was the reason they were all still here…
“I pressed O because of you,” In-ho said. Let's see what you’re really like, Player 456.
Seong Gi-hun looked up, shocked. That got his attention.
“I was scared,” In-ho continued. “I wanted to leave. But you saying that you managed to survive once before gave me hope. And that girl” –he nodded to where 067 sat on the other side of the room– “said she escaped, so it is possible to get out of this place.”
“That’s right!” Someone exclaimed. A boy on the bed next to them scooted over to get close to themThe number on his t-shirt was 388. “She said she got out and she’s still alive. We might be able to leave anytime we want!”
“Yes, yes, that’s all well and good,” 100 gripped. “But she also said she made no money that way! We can’t do that, not an option.” he paused for a moment. “Well… not an option for me.”
“We can’t leave the same way Sae– 67 did.” 456 mumbled.
Interesting. He doesn’t want to call her by her name. Is he mad at her? Or is it because she wouldn’t want him to?
“She was severely wounded,” Gi-hun continued, “The masked men came in and took her away in a coffin. I don’t know how she got out of there, but it must’ve been difficult with half her stomach ripped out.”
The others made sounds of pity and a few of disgust. In-ho tilted his head. The glass shard might’ve pierced 067’s intestines, but definitely missed her actual stomach. Was 456 exaggerating on purpose to dissuade people from trying what 067 did or was he simply misremembering what had happened?
“So… can’t pull off the same trick twice.” 388 said.
“We won’t need to,” 100 said, “If we know what the next game is.”
“That’s right!” 390 exclaimed. He turned to Gi-hun. “What was it? We should know what to expect.”
“The second game… was Dalgona.”
“Dalgona?” 388 scooted closer. If he kept that up he was in danger of falling off his bed. “Like carving shapes from a honeycomb?”
“Well, that’s easy,” In-ho said, knowing full well it wasn’t. “We just all have to pick the easiest shape. Which was it?”
“... Triangle. The hardest was the umbrella.”
Oh, right. He went with an umbrella, didn't he? A memory of that day stirring in his mind. In-ho had never once seen a bunch of grown adults furiously liking the back of their dalgona in hopes of winning. Shame most of them got killed anyway because they saw a guard face. It was entertaining to watch, though.
“Umbrella? Those unlucky bastards surely must’ve died.”
Gi-hun gave In-ho the saddest puppy eyes imaginable. He wasn’t sure whether he should laugh or feel bad about his joke.
“So, we all just choose triangle then we all win!” 388 said excitedly.
“No, no, no!” 100 snapped, “We can’t all pick it. Then the prize money won’t go up. We keep this to ourselves.”
Someone at the back of the group moved away. Player 007. Probably off to tell his mother. It was a pity that the games had been changed this time. Not specifically because of Player 456 and 067’s return, but that was a contributing factor. They had to switch up the game every few years so the VIP’s wouldn’ get too bored. It was fun watching people carve candy and die when they failed once, but after the fourth time, things got too predictable. The newer VIP’s were even pickier about their games. In-ho had to come up with new, less conventional ways to entertain them this time around. It was times like these that he missed Il-nam. Crazy as he was he always managed to come up with the best, most entertaining games.
“We can’t do that.” Gi-hun said. “I’m not going to let innocent people die because of your selfishness.”
Oh, someone’s finally decided to show some teeth to the other players. Good man. Show them that you won’t be pushed around.
“Once I know for certain the next game is Dalgona, I’ll tell everyone else. Along with my… trick for winning the game.” he pointedly didn’t mention what that trick was.
Aggressively licking the back of the honeycomb to melt it along the lines. It is clever, but you would have a hard time convincing others it works without a demonstration. Actually, if they were playing dalgona, how long would it take to get people to try it? 100 might protest but he seemed so desperate for money he might try anything. Same with some of the other players.Maybe he should have left that game in. It could be interesting to see how 456 tried to save everyone there. Oh well, it's too late now.
“Alright,” 390 said. “Seems like a sound plan.”
“Okay, everyone,” Player 100 turned to the group gathered around them. “Nobody says a word. If it’s Dalgona we’ll have the advantage.” The group murmured in agreement then dispersed, going back to their meals. Apparently they didn’t take Gi-hun’s threat of telling all the players seriously.
“What’s going on with you and 67?” 390 asked. “Were you two close or something? She seems pretty upset with you, and what was that about leaving her to die? You didn’t really do that, did you?”
Gi-hun was quiet for a moment and In-ho took his chance.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, sitting down before either of them could protest. He looked up at Gi-hun patiently. He was curious about his relationship with Kang Sae-byeok as well. It would be interesting to see how the two interacted from this point on considering how they parted ways last time. 388 apparently had the same thoughts, as he nearly fell out of his bed trying to listen in.
“I don’t think she’d like me talking about it.” Gi-hun said. “She doesn’t like seeming weak, nor does she really trust people. But… I did leave her to suffer alone. There were only three of us left. She was growing weak from her wound and I went to try and get help. It was stupid. When the guards came in and I turned around… the other player was standing almost at her bed with the knife they gave us in hand. Had the guards not come when they did, I have no doubt in my mind he would have slit her throat. And… I think I might’ve been the one to wake the third player up. I gave him that chance.”
“Sounds horrible.” In-ho said, glancing over to where Sae-byeok was sitting with her friends. It was difficult to believe that those three along with Soldier 012 were planning on overthrowing his games. Especially since the brother-sister duo acted more like children than trained mercenaries, or whatever they were. This opinion was enforced by the fact that Kim Sae-yeon was currently shoving a piece of meat with chunks of rice stuck to it into Sae-byeok’s face in an attempt to get her to eat, while Kim Woo-jin laughed.
“I’m glad she’s not alone anymore.” Gi-hun mumbled, following In-ho’s gaze to the three young adults. Kang Sae-byeok was now begrudgingly eating her food while the other two gave her some slow, sarcastic claps. “I wish I had known. I would have used the money I won to help her.”
“You still have the money?” In-ho asked. “Why are you back here then?”
390 whipped around to look at Gi-hun. “You haven’t been to the horse races, have you?”
“No!” Gi-hun said, seeming slightly offended that 390 would ask that. “The money isn’t mine. It belongs to the people who died here.”
No. You earned it by surviving. Corpses may have helped pay for that, but that money is yours whether you like it or not.
“Why do you think like that?” In-ho asked. “You have a fortune, haven’t you used any of it? Seems a bit of a waste.”
“It doesn't belong to me.” 456 repeated, “I have no right to it. Just like we have no right to the money up there.” he nodded to the giant piggy bank. “It’s the money of those who were eliminated and soon enough, more will be added to it.” he looked pointedly at In-ho.
“Are you implying that it’s my fault we're still here?” In-ho asked, keeping his voice level. He wasn’t angry, simply… curious.
“Everyone who wanted to leave is now trapped here until we finally win the vote. How many will still be alive until then?”
“And everyone who wants to stay still has the opportunity to play.”
The moment the words left In-ho’s mouth, he scolded himself silently. He sounded too much like one of the managers. If he kept that up, 456 might catch on to the fact that he was no ordinary player. Maybe he should have gone with a different number than 001. It was the one Il-nam had used, Player 456 would likely have some distrust towards him
But Seong Gi-hun showed no indication that he noticed the way he spoke. Nor did he seem at all suspicious of him, merely angry about the way the vote had gone. The glare he was giving him was proof of that. Was he faking, or was he truly that trusting?
“Yes, I was the last one to press the O button.” In-ho continued. “But 182 people did as well. Suppose I had voted X and we left, if I were to run into one of the other O votes on the outside. Would they thank me? Would they see it as me saving their lives? Or would they see it as me saving my own skin and dragging everyone else down with me?”
Gi-hun looked like he might say something more, but 390 wavered his arms between them.
“Alright, alright. No use fighting about it now. What’s done is done.” He sat back in his seat. “What we need to focus on is surviving. It shouldn't be too hard if we all work together.”
“That’s right, sirs,” 388 said, rolling off his bed and standing before them. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “If we all stick together, I’m sure we can win this.”
They all stared at him.
“Who are you?” 390 asked.
“Oh right,” 388 said, seeming to have forgotten that none of them knew each other (excluding 390 and 456) “I’m Kang Dae-ho.” He held a hand for them to shake, which none of them took.
“Dae-ho,” 390 said. “Do I know you, Mister Dae-ho?”
“Uh– no.” Dae-ho lowered his hand, “When Mr. 456 went FREEZE--” he held his arm in front of his mouth in the same way Gi-hun had– “I became an instant fan.”
Awh, someone’s already got fans. In-ho thought, glancing at Gi-hun, who was watching Dae-ho with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. Better not let them down.
Dae-ho continued praising Gi-hun until 390 got up and asked him to wait. He grabbed the boy’s sleeve and rolled in up to look at the tattoo underneath.
“The Marines?” 390 asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“Which cohort?”
388 chuckled, giving 390 an amused look.
“Oh, just wait.” 390 got one arm out of his jacket. He rolled up the sleeve of the t-shirt to reveal a tattoo just like 388’s.
Dae-ho jumped to attention and saluted. “VICTORY AT ALL COSTS, SIR!” he bellowed. “COHORT 1140, SIR!”
390 returned the salute, “At ease!” he shouted back. “Dae-ho. No wonder I had a good feeling about you.” he slapped Dae-ho’s shoulder, causing the boy to shout out again.
In-ho turned to Gi-hun as the two continued their loud conversation. Player 456 stared at his friend and the boy like he wanted to always remember this one little moment of happiness forever. 390 laughing as the over eager 388 responded to his attention with glee.
This will be interesting to see. In-ho thought. Let’s find out whether or not you can keep these friends alive.
Seong Gi-hun was an interesting man. In many ways, he reminded In-ho of himself. Well, the version of himself who played back in 2015. But that man had died the night he was given the knife, and a new one had been reborn from his corpse.
In order to win Gi-hun’s trust In-ho would have to become that man again, or at least, pretend to be. Become that man was someone Player 456 would trust. Someone just like 456. He wouldn’t like becoming that person again. It was difficult to be someone you’re not and it dragged up to many… unpleasant memories. But it was what had to be done. He needed to prove to himself that he and Gi-hun were the same.
Otherwise… could In-ho truly claim he’d done the right thing?
-— —- —- —-
November 1, 2024
37th games Day one: Red light Green Light
Girls bathroom
Sae-byeok splashed water on her face, trying to wash Player 444’s blood off. She really shouldn’t have gotten so close to the man after he’d been rescued, it only resulted in her being covered in his blood and possibly a bit of his brain matter. A part of her was glad to see such a selfless act from players in the game. Another part thought that it was a foolish move that would’ve never worked out anyway.
Other than the failed rescue attempt, and a fight between three players, it’d been an uneventful day. She’d grown concerned when 230 and 124 began beating up 333 (the crypto youtuber, if she recalled correctly), but it was quickly broken up by Player 001. There probably wouldn’t be any violent attacks in the middle of the night. Would there? She did make a mental note to keep an eye on 230, 124, and 001. The first two were violent and appeared unpredictable, and 001 was a little too good at fighting for her to be comfortable without knowing more.
It was about fifteen minutes before lights out, Sae-byeok had decided to come now because she thought there wouldn’t be a lot of people in the bathroom and she could wash up in peace. But apparently, she wasn’t the only one who had that idea. 222 had come in a few minutes ago, as had 149. 120 was here as well, at another sink trying to get 444’s blood of her own face and clothes. That was the problem with waiting, the blood had dried and crusted on their skin, making it annoying to try and scrub off.
‘Is that really all you're concerned about, Kang Sae-byeok?’ Ji-yeong asked. ‘A man died and his blood being on your hands is annoying to you?’
No. It’s not on my hands. I didn’t kill him. Sae-byeok glanced up in the mirror and saw that there was still some blood on her cheeks. She continued washing her face.
‘That’s bullshit and you know it.’ Ji-yeong countered. ‘If you had just copied Gi-hun and warned everyone, more people would’ve survived. You killed them by letting them all die. And you didn’t even have the courage to save a crippled man begging for his life.’
It’s not my fault. You're being irrational. Get out of my head.
‘You’re right. I’m being irrational.’
Sae-byeok paused. What? It somehow made things worse when the voices in her head started agreeing with her. It’s not real. She told herself. This isn’t really Ji-yeong. Ji-yeong would never talk like this.
‘You didn’t kill those people in the Red light Green light. This time. But last time… You got more people killed than anyone else in those damn games.’ Ji-yeong’s voice was filled with glee. She was happy seeing Sae-byeok suffer.
“No.” Sae-byeok whispered. A few feet away, 120 turned her head to look at her curiously. “I didn’t….”
“Uhm… sorry, what did you say?” 120 asked. Sae-byeok ignored her.
‘Then what happened when you spared Deok-su? Was he grateful? Did he change his ways and play fairly until dying honorably? No. He slaughtered people in their beds. He cheated his way through the games and only died because Mi-nyeo had the courage to do what you couldn’t and killed that thug. You had him at your mercy in the Red light Green light game. You could’ve killed him right there and then just by pulling on his greasy ass hair. But you didn’t. You let him live. So, what about all the people he killed? Is the blood on his hands? Or yours?’
Be quiet, Ji-yeong. You can’t be blaming me for his actions. She was wrong. She had to be wrong. Right? It wasn’t her fault Deok-su had been a monster
‘It’s your fault you let that monster live. Come on, Kang Sae-byeok, admit it.’
Shut up.
‘It’s all your fault.’
“Shut up…”
“Hey, you okay?” someone was talking, reaching towards her.
‘You killed those people.’
“Shut up.” She was talking out loud now. The others in the bathroom might hear her. She didn’t care. She slammed her fist down on the side of the sink. Then again and again. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!”
“Is there something wrong with her?”
‘It’s always been your fault. Kang Sae-byeok.’
“I don’t know.”
‘Their blood is on your hands… and so is mine.’
“SHUT UP, JI-YEONG!” Sae-byeok shouted. If she was loud enough maybe she wouldn’t hear the voice. Maybe she could drown it out. Maybe Ji-yeong would finally listen.
A person behind her in the mirror. A young woman. She was small and smiling kindly. Like only she could ever understand the hardships she had faced.
Ji-yeong.
Sae-byeok didn’t think. She punched the mirror right where Ji-yeong’s image stood.
It’s not real. It’s not real. IT’S NOT REAL.
Glass shattered. A spider web of cracks spread from the spot where Sae-byeok’s fist landed, then the whole mirror collapsed in a cascade of shards.
For a second the only sound was the shuffling feet of the other players as they scrambled backwards. Then…
Explosions.
Turning around to see millions of little shards of glass hurtling towards her.
Pain in her side.
Looking down to see a long shard embedded in her gut.
A gift wrapped coffin waiting for her.
Shards of glass all around. Littering the floor.
The tile beneath her shoes flickered for a moment, turning into something else. The patterns on the floor at the end of the glass bridge.
“Shit…” Sae-byeok stumbled backwards. “Shit– I didn’t– I’m not—”
‘You think you have the right to die?’ Ji-yeong snarled. She sounded so hateful. ‘You didn’t get to die then. You don’t get to die now. No. That would be a mercy you don’t deserve.’
“No… I’m not trying to– I don’t want to die– I didn’t want to–”
Her breath was coming in sharp breaths. She stumbled backwards and glass crackled beneath her feet. Her back hit a wall. No. No. No. No.
‘Your fault.’
Memories slammed into her. Not just memories of the games…
Her feeble old grandparents and her brother going up in smoke and flames after the plague claimed them. A plague she’d survived.
My fault.
No-eul, before she fled the North, curled up into a ball, ignoring the cries of her daughter and refusing to talk to anyone. Sae-byeok couldn’t help her.
My fault.
Her father was floating away in the river. The water turned red with his blood. The crack of gunfire and a pain on the side of her neck. The bullet that simply grazed her while her father had been bleeding beyond saving.
My fault.
Cheol asking her where their parents were. Asking when they’d come and her promising that they'd all be together soon.
My fault,
The screams of every person Deok-su and his minions killed during lights out. His footsteps pounding towards her. She’d run and let others die in her place.
My fault.
Dragging people to their death during Tug of War.
My fault.
Ji-yeong offering her hand. The hand that she decided to take.
My fault.
Talking. Talking about her life. About her dreams. And throwing a marble too close to a wall.
‘It’s your fault. It’s always been you.’
‘Your fault.’
‘YOUR FAULT!’
It was more than just Ji-yeong now. It felt like every player she’d known in her last game was screaming at her. No, not just players. Cheol’s voice as well. Her mom’s. No-eul. Song-i’s cries. Her older brother's whimpers of pain as he suffered from a plague. Her father’s scream as he was shot again and again then left to die in the river. Glass shattering. Exploding.
“Stop it.” Sae-byeok’s voice was rising in pitch. It sounded so pathetic. She was pathetic. How many lives had been in her hands and how many times had she let them go? “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault.
Hands seized by her arms and suddenly she was being dragged away from the broken mirror. As if taking her away could stop the memories, stop the screams. Stop the pain.
They stopped and spun Sae-byeok around so her back was against a stall door.
Player 120.
Behind her, 222 and 149 watching in surprise and a little bit of fear.
Their faces barely registered to her. She couldn’t see anything but her failures. She would fail them too. They would all die alone and afraid. Trapped in hell.
‘Because of you!’ A new voice joined the cacophony. Gi-hun’s. ‘You voted to stay. They’ll die here because of your selfish greed!’
Stop it. Stop it. She slid down the stall door and to the ground, hands covering her ears. Trying to silence the voices that would not stop screaming at her.
‘YOU KILLED THEM.’
‘WHY DO YOU GET TO LIVE WHEN I HAD TO DIE?’
‘WHERE WERE YOU? I NEEDED YOU!’
New words joined in. Real words. Words that had once meant nothing but now were the proof of every mistake.
‘Who brought you here? I thought I said to bring only men.’
She’d brought Ji-yeong into their group. That was the moment her fate had been sealed.
‘I’ll be more useful than either of these scrawny little girls.’
Min-yeo had been more useful. She’d killed Deok-su. She killed the monster.
‘Where’s mom? You said she’d be here soon.’
Cheol. Spending years wondering why his sister had never followed through on her promise.
‘What happened to Sae-byeok? How’d she die?’
No-eul cared more about Sae-byeok then she ever cared about her. Even now.
More shouts. More screams. Player 120 was talking now. Her lips were moving but Sae-byeok couldn’t make out a damn word. Every voice seemed to be a reminder of what she had done. Condemning her. Every sound was accompanied by memories.
Each gunshot eliminated a player. Corpses falling to the ground.
Flashing lights and a hammering heart. Deok-su chasing after her.
The dull thud of a dropped marble.
‘Thank you… for playing with me!’
There.
That was Ji-yeong. The real one. Or the hallucination that sounded the most like her. She wasn’t dead because of Sae-byeok, she was dead because decided to go on her own terms.
Right?
That was why she had dropped the marble…
Nobody would want to die for Sae-byeok. No one would be so foolish.
Even in death Ji-yeong was saving her from the past, though she would never know it…
That one wasn’t my fault. Why did it still sound like she was trying to convince herself? Her heart was racing uncontrollably and her sharp gasps were doing nothing to help slow it.
Drowning. Drowning again. Drowning in the screams, in the fear and hate and all the pain.
But what if it was? Does she blame me? If I had been stronger. If I had been braver. If I had been smarter.
‘Thank you…’
If I had just kept my mouth shut. If I had just insisted on a real game instead of talking. If I had–
“Listen,” a real voice pierced through the screams. This one is calm. A single island of peace in a raging ocean of chaos.
120.
She was still trying. She was still trying to reach Sae-byeok. Why did she care?
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just breathe.” 120 moved her hands down from Sae-byeok’s shoulders so she could grip her wrists, “Just copy me, can you do that? Deep breathe in, deep breathe out. ‘Kay?”
My fault. My fault. My fault.
120 took a deep breath and, reluctantly, Sae-byeok did as well. Then again. Then again.
It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. Ji-yeong’s not here. She wouldn’t be mad at you for something like that. She wouldn’t be mad about how she died. She isn’t that kind of person…
Another breath.
And another.
And another.
Finally her heart rate began to slow. Bit by bit the world seemed to make a little more sense. Ji-yeong wasn’t here. That was impossible. The person she saw in the mirror might’ve been Player 222. She was roughly the right height with a similar hair style. Yes… that made a little more sense.
Had she just seen someone similar to Ji-yeong and hallucinated her face on top of them? Shit. She should be glad she’d just hit the mirror and not 222.
Yes, that was it. Start thinking rationally, you idiot. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t really her.
Another breath.
None of them are here. None of that was real. They aren’t here to hate you. They aren’t here and they never will be. A smaller voice, this one her own, whispered to her. Because of you.
“Are you okay?” 120 asked.
“Fine…” Sae-byeok mumbled.
“Are you sure, dear?” 149 asked, walking forward. “That looked like a panic attack or a mental break of some kind.” 222 nodded from her spot in the corner.
“It’s fine.” Sae-byeok said again, a little more forcefully than she intended. She took another deep breath. Calm down. Calm down. Freaking out even more is only going to make it worse.
“I…umm,” 149 stopped and knelt down in front of where Sae-byeok was, shooting an uncomfortable glance at 120. “I’ve been wanting to thank you. For what you did in the horrible game.”
“What?”
“You and your friends did that on purpose, didn’t you? Pointing out the snipers, mentioning your strategy, all before the game even began. You were trying to warn us, but you didn’t want to sound crazy like that other gentleman who saved everyone else.” 149 was so kind and gentle when she spoke. Kindness that Sae-byeok didn’t deserve.
“Something like that…” Sae-byeok admitted. “But we were trying to save our own skins. It wasn’t just about you. ”
149 hummed in disbelief. “Thank you anyway. Me and my son would’ve died if it weren’t for you. And I’m sure this young lady can say the same.” 149 nodded over to where 222 stood.
222 nodded, “Yeah… You did save me. I wasn’t… feeling too great during that whole thing.” She rested one hand on her stomach. She did that a lot.
“I’d be surprised if you were,” 120 mumbled. She turned back to Sae-byeok. “You–uh– were telling someone to be quiet and mutter about how things were your fault. Can I ask what that was about?”
Sae-byeok didn’t respond. Just folded her arms onto her knees and hid her face in them.
“Did that… episode have anything to do with the last games you were in? Like triggered PTSD or something?”
“...Maybe.” So much for not looking weak or crazy.
“It must’ve been rough.” 120 said quietly. She didn’t press further, something that Sae-byeok would forever be thankful for. 120 stood and extended one hand to her. “I’m Cho Hyun-ju, by the way.”
A faint memory stirred in the back of her mind. Another figure extending a hand. She banished the thought. She took the hand and allowed Hyun-ju to pull her to her feet. “Kang Sae-byeok.” she said
The door to the bathroom creaked open.
“What the actual fu….” said the person who just entered. Se-mi? She was standing in the doorway with a triangle guard behind her. Somehow, even with the mask on, it seemed that the guard was having the same thought. “Who decided to throw hands with their reflection?” Se-mi asked.
“Uhm… 067 did,” 222 said softly.
“Oh.” Se-mi strode forward and picked up a long, sharp piece of glass (Sae-byeok shivered when she saw it, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Hyun-ju) and turned to the Triangle still standing in the doorway. “Can I keep this?”
The guard just stepped back and shut the door, leaving the players alone in the bathroom.
Se-mi shrugged and pocketed the glass, then noticed the others staring. “What? Can’t a girl defend herself if needed?”
“You might get into trouble for that,” Sae-byeok pointed out.
“So? I’d rather have it in case I need it than not have it and die. If the masked guy had a problem with it he should’ve mentioned it.” she crossed her arms. “Anyway, not what I came here for. I wanted to talk to you.”
Sae-byeok grimaced. “About what?” she asked even though she definitely already knew the answer.
“About what the hell is really going on here.” Se-mi walked over and poked her in the shoulder. “Why are you here? Seriously? Do you expect me to believe that all three of you are in debt all at the same time? And you all managed to get into death games at the same time as well?”
There was no reason to ask who the other two were. Sae-byeok batted her hand away. “Stay out of our way, Se-mi. You’ll only get hurt.”
“Evie said the same thing when I asked her about it. Woo-jin too.”
“Then you should listen.” How was she going to convince Semi to stay away? “Fine. I’ll tell you one thing. I’m not a normal player this time. I’m not here for money.” Maybe that would dissuade her. Explaining the exact reason would be unwise, but she could say that she wasn’t here for money. Money was the whole point of that game. If she said she wasn’t here for money then that would imply there was another motive. This way, she was telling Se-mi just enough to get her to understand a little, and possibly motivate her to stay away.
Se-mi scoffed. “Then why’d you vote to stay? To spite the crazy guy?”
“Because I had to. That’s all you need to know.” Please just drop it. You don’t deserve to die here. I can’t do my job and focus on protecting you at the same time. She shoved past the girl and made her way to the door. Se-mi caught her wrist.
“Not good enough for me.”
“Leave it alone, Se-mi,” Sae-byeok snarled, yanking her arm away.
“Fine then. I’ll go talk to the others. They might actually tell me something if I ask the right questions.”
Oh for the love of– Sae-byeok scoffed. “No, they won’t. We aren’t here for money. We’re here for another reason. If you know it and you keep hanging around us, you’re going to end up dead. Stay out of our business."
“It’s about that American guy, isn’t it?” Se-mi guessed. “The one that pays good so long as you don’t ask questions.”
Oops. Didn’t think she’d put that together. Then again, there wasn’t anyone else who’d send them into the games. Se-mi knew (or at least suspected) that there was something going on in America that led to the disappearance of hundreds of people a year, but knew nothing of the details.They’d done their best to keep her in the dark about it, which had been easy so far as they’d only known her a few months. She didn’t work directly for John and only met him once. Technically, Woo-jin was the one who paid her for doing recon and helping with cover stories. To her, it was just easy money while to them, she was unknowingly helping take down one tyrant to elevate another.
“... You should stay away from him too,” Sae-byeok said. “I don’t know why you decided to get involved with him and us, but…” She trailed off. What was she going to say? She didn’t know the full story, or what exactly Se-mi’s situation was. If Se-mi was indebted directly to John like she, Evie, and Woo-jin were, then there would be few places Se-mi would be able to hide. If she wasn’t then it might be possible to get out of his clutches before she got into deep.
“I get what you're saying…” Se-mi admitted reluctantly. “I’ll leave you alone. For now. And only because I can see I’m not getting anywhere with you.” She jabbed a finger at Sae-byeok’s chest. “But don’t think that I’ll let this go. I still want to know why–”
A knock came at the door.
“Lights out in five minutes. Time to go back.” said the guard.
“Oh, right, we have a bed time.” Se-mi grumbled.
“Can’t we just ask for a few more minutes?” 222 suggested.
“No, not really,” Sae-byeok said. “Unless Se-mi wants to pretend to be constipated.”
“Not happening.”
Hyun-ju walked up to stand beside her. “You’re… really not here for the money?”
“No.”
“Then–”
“I didn’t tell Se-mi and I can’t tell you. Just drop it.” She turned and stalked towards the door.
“She’s been through some things,” Se-mi said to Hyun-ju.
“I noticed.” Hyun-ju replied
“Me and our other friends were concerned she might try to drown herself in the sink.”
Sae-byeok rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t.”
“Trying to wash your freckles off then?”
“Shut up.”
That earned her a faint laugh. The others joined her in heading back down the stairs. The Triangle guard leading them seemed to be in a bit of a hurry. Probably let them hang out too long and was eager to get them back into their dormitory. Did they guards have set schedules? Were there ones specifically used for games and ones for guarding the dorms at night?
“Were you serious?” asked a small voice from behind her. 222.
“About what?” Sae-byeok replied.
“About you not needing any of the prize money.”
She paused. “Yes.”
“Then why did you vote to stay?” A moment of hesitation. “You’ve screwed the rest of us over for no reason.” The girl sounded bitter. And she had every right to be.
Sae-byeok sighed. “I know. But… It’s not money I owe anymore… It’s my life. If I don’t pay back that debt soon then they’ll target my family. The few people I actually love… I can’t let that happen.” It was true. John had made it a habit of reminding her that he knew where Cheol was and would find a way to get to her mother. If she purposefully sabotaged the job she was given… then there was little hope for what was left of her family.
“If you don’t owe money then how are you here? Did they really just bring you back so you could finish the games you started?”
“Yes.” But we baited them into it.
“...This isn’t a good place to be.” Not a question, a statement. Sae-byeok turned and looked back at the girl. 222 was holding her stomach, cradling it carefully. Almost like she was…
Oh no.
Of all the places you could be expecting a baby, why the hell did it have to be here?
222 noticed her staring and looked to the ground, wrapping her arms around herself a little more tightly.
“...What’s your name?” Sae-byeok asked. She wanted to know. It was wrong to see this girl as just a number.
“Jun-hee. Kim Jun-hee.”
“Jun-hee. I’ll remember that. I promise.”
Jun-hee didn’t say anything. Probably didn’t want to talk with someone who’d voted to continue the games. Someone who’d helped trapped her and her baby in this hellhole.
I’ll keep you alive, Jun-hee. I’ll try. I’ll repay my debt and then we can all leave.
‘But how many will be dead by then?’ asked Ji-yeong, but this time, it was a calm question. Not condescension. She just sounded… sad, echoing Sae-byeok’s own emotions. At least she wasn’t shouting anymore.
I don’t know. Sae-byeok thought back. But I know one thing. I’m not going to give up. I’m going to survive and end these games. Permanently. And to do that, I have to keep playing. I’m not doing this just for John and his crazy plans. I’m doing this for you, Ji-yeong. And Ali, and every other poor soul that fell victim to this place. I will avenge you.
I promise.