Chapter Text
"How could I feel? What do you think? It's your game, you knew I had to do it to get out of there," In-ho growled.
"Ah, what a boring answer," Gi-hun hummed. "That's not even that difficult a question. Don't ask about what was expected of you, but about how you felt when you saw the opportunity. That one moment you could have grabbed him by the throat. When you decided he would die under your hands."
"You know what? Well, if you're going to ask me questions expecting a specific answer that might satisfy you, maybe just tell me what that answer is. It'll save us all time."
Gi-hun just sighed and shook his head, as if he had the right to be upset in this situation. In-ho angrily returned to the folder, leafing through it halfheartedly. It turned out that, in addition to the descriptions of the games themselves, the folder also contained files on each player. Basic information such as name, age, family members, and personal information about family conflicts, work-related issues, and, of course, debts.
(He was very careful not to cross over to player 067's side. Whatever that sounded like, he preferred the man to remain just a number in his head. He didn't want to give him a name, didn't want to know if he had a family he'd never return to. In-ho didn't need to add that to his nightmares.)
After a few minutes, he finally put the folder down, knowing he wouldn't get anything valuable out of it. Gi-hun had stood there the entire time, feigning disinterest, his gaze darting to the nearby cabinets.
In-ho moved to the next shelf, pulling the man along with him. His eyes ran along the edges of the folders, glancing at the titles. They were mostly the same folders as the previous one, only from different games.
Besides that, there were some boring and useless things like electricity bills, some financial statements, and inventory records. If he didn't know the truth, he might have thought they were just files from some ordinary company, not a business that murdered hundreds of people a year. He snorted slightly at the thought, ignoring Gi-hun's curious look. Suddenly, another folder caught his eye. It was quite thick, its cover seemed old and faded. Similar to many others, but it was its title that caught his eye.
'Winners' List.'
He knew perfectly well that this wasn't what he was looking for, but he couldn't help the feeling inside him that drew him to this folder. A list of winners. People who had survived this hell, who understood this tragedy. The only ones who could understand him.
Maybe he didn't need it at the moment, but he wanted to see that there were others. That he wasn't alone. That when this game was soon stopped, he wouldn't be the only one who knew how it ended. Someone who was the last one standing, just like him. Someone with the same blood on their hands.
That was also important. Previous winners could also be useful to this case. They could testify, describe what happened here from multiple perspectives. It would help ensure that all those responsible got what they deserved.
So he reached out and grabbed the folder. Gi-hun finally turned to him, his eyes widening slightly at the title. Something indescribable flashed in his dark irises.
"I don't think this is what you were looking for, is it?" he asked, his voice anything but light.
"Let me decide for myself what I'm looking for," In-ho retorted, observing the strange reaction.
Chin-hae stared at him for a moment longer, as if trying to read the depths of his soul. It didn't help that every time he looked at him like that, In-ho literally felt like he was being seen through.
Then Gi-hun smiled. "Let me rephrase that. I know you won't find what you're looking for there. Remember? I once said that no winner is able to move on with their lives or truly escape from here. I wasn't lying."
In-ho remembered. It had actually been their last conversation, before he learned who was behind the mask. The words were spoken in such a strange tone, as if they held more personal meaning than they should have. Full of bitterness and almost regret, perhaps even bitterness. As if the man couldn't come to terms with this fact but had to accept it as a universal truth.
In-ho, however, didn't comment on this. He didn't want to admit there was truth to it. The truth was that he still couldn't move on with his life, not until it was all over.
Deep down, he had to admit he'd never escaped from here. His body might have left this hell, but his soul was trapped here forever.
He ignored the words, as he often did, and opened the folder near the end. His own face appeared before his eyes. The information on the card was very similar to the previous folder. Nothing special. He felt almost disappointed, he didn't even know why.
He flipped the folder to the very back with a careless movement. At that moment, the hand holding the papers was jostled. One of the loose sheets fell to the floor. In-ho watched it fall, his gaze shifting to Gi-hun.
"Oops, sorry," Gi-hun said without a shred of remorse, stepping back after being elbowed. "I don't like standing still for so long." In-ho snorted in irritation, not even bothering to reply.
The man stood once again, uninterested, though his posture seemed almost expectant. As if he were waiting for something special. This immediately set off alarm bells in his head. After a few seconds, when the world didn't erupt into flames, he slowly leaned down and picked up the paper from the ground.
He barely glanced at it, but the black, straight lines forming the table caught his attention. He turned the paper over and examined what was there.
It seemed to be a simple summary of the entire contents of the folder. The table's rows listed the year and the name of that year's winner. His eyes darted over the letters, trying to memorize as many names as possible so he could look them up later.
He reached the very end, noticing his own name. He was about to put the paper aside and abandon this pointless side quest when his gaze involuntarily shifted a little higher again.
His entire body froze. Every muscle in his body froze in disbelief and terror.
There, not much higher than himself. Just nine years ago. 2015. The 28th Squid Games.
Seong Gi-hun.
The man who stood next to him. The man who, whenever he looked up, was already staring at him. Gi-hun tilted his head slightly and smiled vacantly.
In-ho just stood there like a pillar. Something inside him seemed to give out. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.
This wasn't what he expected. Or maybe he should have. The guy disappeared in 2015 as a failed gambler, and suddenly he was here as the head of the whole enterprise? It would make sense if he could figure out the mechanics...
But it didn't make sense. Gi-hun was a player. A true player who had survived this hell and prevailed. He knew what was happening here, knew this tragedy. And yet. The briefcase fell to the floor, spilling its contents as In-ho lunged forward, his hands outstretched. In that moment, he forgot he even had a gun. He only counted the axes, only the feeling of a soft throat beneath his fingers.
Gi-hun fell backward a bit, bumping into one of the cabinets, which shook dangerously. In-ho followed him, holding him by the neck and pressing down with his whole body. Admittedly, Gi-hun didn't seem too threatened, considering the situation. If anything, a dark satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.
"You," In-ho growled.
"Me," Gi-hun confirmed. "I think I should reintroduce myself, don't you think? The title of winner is a big deal."
"You-you were a player. You won this!"
"Yes, I won," the man nodded again. "You were here... you saw it all... you saw what's happening here. You came back here... you came back here not to change anything, but to continue this hell... you hid here like a coward all these years..."
"Be careful when you talk about something you know nothing about," Gi-hun's voice grew serious as he narrowed his eyes at him. "No—"
"Why?!" In-ho screamed, interrupting him. "Why did you do that?! You... Do you even know what you did?! Do you know how many people you've hurt?! Ga-yeong, God Ga-yeong! You know how long she's been looking for you, don't pretend you don't! Why... why did you choose to come back here and not to her?! Why did you decide to become the creator of games that wanted to destroy you?!"
The words tumbled from his mouth without any control. They were the words that had been on his tongue since Frontman lost his mask. Why? Why did he do that? It wasn't even about betrayal anymore, not about those feeble excuses about horses that the man himself didn't seem to believe. No, he wanted a real, personal answer.
(He was a hypocrite. In-ho had practically done the same thing. He'd literally given up on any chance for a normal life with his family by coming back here. But they weren't on the same side. No, they weren't the same.)
"Why?," Gi-hun repeated, his gaze drifting away as if it weren't pressed against his face. "I told you already. Once you're in here, you can never escape. I'm no different." His lips curved into a smirk. "Or maybe I am. I stayed here of my own free will.”
________________________
Gi-hun doesn't remember exactly how he got into this situation. Everything since Sae-byeok's death was a blur. His mind was clouded with crimson, limiting his ability to make rational decisions. The hatred he felt was simply too much, something he'd never experienced before in his life.
And when... when Sang-woo told him why he'd killed her... He felt like the last thread of reason had simply snapped. Sae-byeok had died just so the game could continue? Sang-woo had killed her because he didn't want it all to end? And that was it?
Was that enough?
Was that enough to take this girl's life? Her hopes and dreams? To take her sister from her brother?
(It's not fair.)
After that, everything happened too quickly. Gi-hun had never fought like this in his entire life. He'd rather abhorred violence, but as a teenager, he'd been prone to getting into childish fights from time to time. But this?
He felt like a wild animal. A wild animal with nothing left to lose, a cornered animal. He bit, kicked, and struck. Stabbed.
At some point, it started to rain.
Perhaps the whole world was crying for them?
________________________
One moment, he was fully prepared to kill.
The next, a sudden clarity struck him just before he entered the field that was his goal. His feet stopped just short of the line.
He turned and glanced at the body lying behind him. Sang-woo had completely exhausted himself. He lay flat on the ground, as if he had already accepted his fate. From this distance, he looked so small, so defenseless. As if blood hadn't seeped into every inch of his being. And it wasn't just his blood.
The echo of two children's laughter, two simple boys. Poor but happy. Two children running in the sun without a care in the world. The echo of women's voices calling them home.
And suddenly, it all lost its meaning.
Why was he doing this? Why were they even doing this? Why were they doing what was expected of them? Why were they listening to the men who had put a knife in their hands?
Gi-hun didn't want this. He didn't want Sang-woo to die. He didn't want to kill him. Because if he dies, what will remain?
Gi-hun will be alone. The last survivor. The last witness to this hell. The last one who can confirm that these people really existed and died here.
He couldn't do that. He couldn't turn away and pretend that money would fix everything. That Sang-woo's death wouldn't matter. Even after everything his... former? friend had done.
Maybe this was just this place. Little ones, when they got out of here, everything could be fixed. Maybe they could start their lives anew. He only knew one thing. He didn't want another person on his conscience. Especially not Sang-woo.
(Ha, how he hated Sang-woo for making him love him so much. If he didn't, he wouldn't have ended up like this.)
________________________
"Sang-woo!!"
________________________
"I don't understand." In-ho shook his head, trying to understand. "You won. And you came back here. Don't you know what this game entails? You've been through it yourself! Why do you condemn others to the same thing?!"
Chin-hae smiled, looking at the ceiling. "I was a truly naive man," he said, as if he hadn't heard what In-ho had said a second ago. "I believed I could leave here with my friend. I believed I could keep my hands free from blood if I refused to kill him. I thought he might give up the money."
"Wait," he stopped him. "What do you mean? What do you mean you refused to kill him? How did you win?"
The man's eyes grew even more distant. "I reached out to him. I wanted him to leave with me to stop this game and forfeit the prize."
In-ho had a very bad feeling, but he asked anyway in a choked tone. "What happened to him?"
"What do you mean?" And so Gi-hun looked him straight in the face again, his expression blank. A flat smile crossed his lips. "He turned out to be the same as everyone else. He turned out to be... human. Perhaps he couldn't bear the thought of that money simply disappearing. Perhaps he didn't want those deaths to be in vain," he chuckled ironically. "Instead of grabbing my hand, he grabbed a knife and plunged it into his neck."
In-ho showed no outward reaction, but his thoughts raced, analyzing every word. It seemed an incredibly sensitive topic. But somehow he felt this moment was important. A significant moment that shaped the man before him.
His second thought was more absurd. So Gi-hun hadn't killed anyone? At least not in the finals. He had become an accidental winner.
"Didn't you think that... maybe he did it because of the moment you would have chosen? To live?" In-ho blurted out without hesitation. "He cared about you. You said he was a friend."
Gi-hun said nothing for a moment, just stared at him, blinking slowly. Many emotions flashed across his face. Then he smiled, but this time it seemed a little less cynical.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
For the next few seconds, they stood at an impasse. His hands were still around the man's throat, but the grip wasn't as strong anymore. He knew he shouldn't waste time, but there was a part of him that yearned to get to know Gi-hun. To get to know the person who had deceived him for so long, the person he had become. How could they have ended up so differently, starting from the same starting point?
(He wanted to know what had led him to this. He wanted to understand. He needed this. He wanted to find even a little bit...just a little bit of Chin-hae in this monster from his nightmares.)
(Chin-hae didn't exist.)
"Why did you come back here? Why didn't you stay with your family?" In-ho continued his interrogation, hoping to get the most out of him.
"Why are you asking me? You know that feeling," Gi-hun replied. "When the game ends and you leave this place, you're thrown back into this merciless world. But you know what's the worst?" Ignoring the still-choking hands, the man leaned forward, almost whispering in his ear. "That you feel so hopeless that you miss the games."
In-ho flinched violently as if he'd been struck. Gi-hun seemed almost amused by this reaction.
"Don't look at me like that," the man defended himself. "It's true. Returning to reality, you're confronted with what you've forgotten. The real world becomes boring, predictable, the same old games between those at the top and those at the bottom. Nothing you haven't seen before. But games? Everything seems easier there. Yes, everyone is one and the same. There, all you feel is adrenaline and a desperate desire to survive. No matter how much you want to deny it. Games made you feel alive. Without it? You're left empty. Even money doesn't change that."
In-ho felt ice trickle down his spine. Yes. That was the perfect description of how he felt when he emerged from that hell. When he found out Ka-yeong was dead.
(Sometimes he wondered if even if she survived, if anything would change. He was afraid of the answer.)
His memories from that time were clouded. He performed actions based solely on muscle memory, not really understanding why he was doing what he was doing. He felt like a hollow shell, as if everything he was had suddenly vanished, as if it had been taken from him.
He hated to admit it, but he saw the truth in those words. Nothing he encountered in freedom could compare to the emotions he experienced on that cursed island. Even during his work as a police officer, he had never felt so alive.
"Why didn't I return to my family?" Gi-hun repeated with barely concealed amusement. "What was I supposed to return to? I had all the money I needed, but as soon as I tried to use it, my mother died before I could return. Ga-yeong soon became out of reach as well..." he concluded thoughtfully.
Something twisted painfully in In-ho's chest. It sounded familiar. Returning home to find a dead mother (wife) and a lost child (unborn child).
(Ga-yeong out of reach? After all, she had sacrificed everything to find her father.)
No, he didn't want to feel any pity. And he shouldn't feel it considering the man's warning expression. So he closed off his heart and any thoughts of the potential resemblance.
"But just like you, I managed to break free out of that hopeless state" Gi-hun spoke again. "Someone managed to break me out. Someone who showed me the world as it was," and once again his face changed, taking on a bittersweet expression.
In-ho had a very strong impression that this someone was the "he" he had heard about so often.
________________________
Another bottle clattered, miraculously avoiding shattering as it fell from the table. Gi-hun didn't even follow the sight. He simply reached for another one. He drank the soju straight from the bottle. It didn't matter anyway.
He could always buy another one. He could afford it.
No one was standing over him, ordering him around. No one was telling him to stop and do something with his life. His mother's body was still cooling in her coffin.
She was buried in the first cemetery that agreed to such an abrupt ceremony. Ceremony was a big word for what had happened. It couldn't possibly be considered something his mother deserved.
It was just him and those who had dug the hole. He hadn't informed anyone. Even if he had the strength, who would he have? He didn't know his mother's friends, and Eun-ji had been written off before the thought could form. They had never liked each other.
Then he thought of Ga-yeong, but the mere prospect of hearing her voice made his stomach clench. His phone lay on one of the dressers, and the millions of missed calls and unread messages seemed almost judgmental.
The phone was returned to him as he was thrown from the car onto the cold sidewalk. The memory alone was enough to make him slam the bottle down on the table. Damn car. Damn voice.
Everything was black. Gi-hun felt as if he were suspended in a literal void. He saw, heard, and felt nothing. Though the only thing that lingered was the memory of dark blood dripping onto the rain-soaked ground.
"I see you've woken up," a distorted voice said. It sounded as if the sound were coming from both near and far simultaneously, as if it were penetrating some kind of barrier. As if the speaker were wearing a mask.
"Who are you?" Gi-hun rasped, his throat feeling like sandpaper.
All he could tell from the voice was that it was a man. "She put on a truly extraordinary spectacle. I must admit, no one expected you to get this far, let alone win. And with what style!" The man chuckled softly and lowered his voice. "Just between you and me, you've been my favorite for a long time. I bet money on you."
"Who are you?" Gi-hun asked again, feeling the other senses starting to come back to him.
He seemed to be blindfolded. He was sitting on a soft leather seat that smelled of opulence. Everything was shaking slightly, so he assumed he was in a car.
For a moment, there was no sound. Gi-hun could only hear his own breath reverberating through the air. Then something clicked, a soft hiss, and the sound of liquid speaking.
It took him a moment to realize what it was. The scent that reached his nose helped. Alcohol. The man was opening a bottle and pouring himself a glass of what was undoubtedly an awfully expensive liquor, maybe wine.
The realization made his blood boil. He thrashed in his seat, feeling the restraints on his hands holding him in place.
"Why?!" he screamed.
The man seemed to freeze in his movements. "Hmm?" he muttered, his voice still distorted by the likely mask he wore. "What do you mean?"
Gi-hun growled, making a practically animalistic sound he couldn't stop.
"Why did you do that?!"
"I did? I didn't do anything. I was just watching. The entire show is created by the players who participate." The answer was simple and delivered in a light tone that seemed almost familiar.
"Stop this nonsense!" Gi-hun screamed, thrashing even harder. "Why? Why did you let this happen?! Sae-byeok... Sang-woo... they're all dead because of you!" His voice broke as reality finally hit him with full force.
"No," the man said simply. "Player 067 was killed by player 218, who ultimately committed suicide. Their deaths didn't come at my hands."
"Are you kidding?" Gi-hun asked in disbelief. "But... these games... who are you?" he asked again, trying to make sense of it.
"Do you know why these games were created?" the man asked suddenly, ignoring everything he had said. "Humans, despite years of evolution, are in fact in no way different from animals. Society still operates on the fundamental principle that only the fittest will survive. And that the weakest will be merely a ladder to climb. You might ask on what basis these groups are formed. And I'll tell you. There are no rules. Some are simply born with less luck than others. Unfair, right?"
"Why... why are you telling me this?" Gi-hun whispered, his struggling momentarily quieting as he felt his strength draining away.
"So you'll understand," came the simple reply. "So you'll understand what the world is like. But this place? Games? In games, everyone is equal. Regardless of debt, gender, age, or status, you have one thing in common. You've been less fortunate in life. That's why you've come here. To a place where all rules, all inhibitions disappear, where you must kill before you are killed. And all this when you're equal. Each of you has an equal chance, an identical starting line. You bet on horse races, right?” he asked, not even waiting for an answer. “It’s almost the same. You’re also the horses we’re betting on. There’s only one winner here, too. Do you know what happens to horses when they get injured? Technically, it’s illegal, but surely you don’t doubt what goes on behind closed doors?”
“Stop it!” Gi-hun growled, resuming the fight. “We’re not fucking horses! Sae-byeok… Sang-woo… they were all people! We’re people, and people are—”
His words trailed off, and the words died in his chest as his mind filled with emptiness. As if anything he wanted to say had suddenly evaporated. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the lost words. He wanted to say. Yes. Because people are… are… people are…
"People are what? I'm dying to know your answer" the man spoke again. "You know, you're a truly interesting horse. No, maybe you're close to what I consider a horse. You're truly extraordinary, player 456."
Gi-hun didn't even know at that moment whether to be offended. The guy had just admitted that he didn't consider this an ordinary horse. Then again, he hadn't admitted that he was a human either. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good.
"If you're wondering, yes, it was a compliment," the voice interjected again. "We've never had a winner who didn't directly kill anyone. Even when faced with the possibility, you refused, or someone helped you refuse, it doesn't matter. And what you did in the end? Extraordinary, truly interesting. Some might say it's your weakness, but I... I saw that fire in you. Maybe you don't even realize it yourself."
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?"
"Huh, looks like we're almost there. It was nice talking. It was a truly enlightening discussion. I can't wait to finish it. I'm curious about your thoughts. See you later."
At that same moment, she felt the car stop, the door open, and a pair of hands pulling it from the seat. Before he could react, he was thrown onto the wet, hard asphalt. Shortly after, he heard the car drive away.
And yet, he didn't move. He just lay there, his entire body frozen. His mind seemed far away. Perhaps still in that cursed arena where blood covered every inch of his skin. Perhaps the limpness he felt beneath him, still falling upon him, wasn't rain. Perhaps this was a sea of blood, the blood of all those unfortunate souls. Little Gi-hun was soaking in their blood. Maybe this was his punishment.
Maybe this was the price of survival.
And yet, the man's words resonated in his mind. He didn't say "if" we finished this discussion. He said "when."
He said "see you later."
Funny thing is, Gi-hun didn't actually see him.
Gi-hun didn't remember what happened from that moment on. No, he actually remembered one thing. He remembered his mother's deathly cold skin, the stiffness of her arms as he tried to wrap them around himself in a parody of an embrace. He remembered that unmistakable scent of death that clung to every surface. That clung to his own skin.
More memories vanished into a glass bottle. He had even managed to almost forget the man's words. It didn't matter anymore. He was determined to rot in this place. Maybe that was how it should be.
His thought remained unfinished. He still didn't know how to finish that sentence. He still didn't know what people were like.
He thought of Ga-yeong and their conversation from years ago. About how there were good people and bad people. No matter how he tried to arrange it in his head, something didn't add up. How could people be like this or that? Are they good or bad, after all? He thought of old Feng, Ali, Sang-woo, Sae-byeok, and old man 001. That didn't help him find an answer. They were all dead, yes. They were all human. But they were too different. What were they like? What were they like that they deserved what happened to them?
Maybe—
A knock interrupted his thoughts. His body tensed instantly, and even the alcohol seemed to leave his body for a second. No one was visiting him. No one should be visiting him.
Immediately, he thought of Ga-yeong. It seemed she wouldn't be leaving the country for long; he wasn't sure of the date. But it couldn't be her. Had not answering her phone encouraged her to come here? Impossible. Eun-ji would never have let her. Not with these limited visiting dates, and not after what had happened recently.
But there was no one else. He'd stopped by, even loan sharks would have come to him so directly. It wasn't their style. They preferred dark alleys after dark.
It didn't matter.
He stood up on unsteady legs. There was no point in sitting and wondering. He just had to open the door and check. It wouldn't be difficult. Once it was all over, he'd just go back to drinking.
But that was difficult.
A black envelope lay on his doorstep. A black envelope containing an inconspicuous card made of elegant paper.
Three familiar symbols burned his palm as he pulled it out. A similar card with identical symbols still lay somewhere in the apartment. And here was another one.
This wasn't a dream. No matter how much he tried to convince himself it wasn't a dream. He couldn't make it up. He couldn't imagine this card.
On the back of the card were only a few words.
A time and a place. Midnight and some random street.
The street was familiar, though. At this address was the grocery store he often went to. The one open 24/7.
(Maybe he never should have opened that envelope. He should have burned it when he still could. Little then everything would have been different. Or maybe not. Maybe it was always meant to be this way. Maybe he never had control over his own life.)
Maybe the "when" had finally arrived.