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luxerians · 26 days ago

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The Last Mask (14)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 14 - Hide and Seek

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 15

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A pair of black shoes stopped just inches from your line of sight. Your chest tightened as you slowly lifted your gaze. First, you saw the polished shoes, then the neatly pressed pants, and finally the long, all-black outfit that draped elegantly yet ominously over the figure. Your eyes reached the mask: a geometric pattern of sharp angles that concealed any trace of humanity beneath it. You couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t tell if he was looking directly at you, but the slight tilt of his head downwards spoke volumes. He was entirely focused on you.

From a side perspective, you were kneeling on the floor, one hand braced against the ground as if trying to anchor yourself while the other clutched your bleeding injury. Your shoulders were tense, your head tilted upward as you met the imposing figure’s gaze. He loomed above you, his posture perfectly controlled, exuding an authority that was both calculated and suffocating. The contrast between his unyielding stance and your vulnerable position added to the tension, the unspoken connection between captor and captive palpable in the air.

The corridor was silent, the tension in the air so thick it felt like it might suffocate you. The guards stood rigid as they waited for the next command from the black-masked man whom they called the Captain. None of them spared a glance at the dead guard whose body lay crumpled against the wall. No one dared risk invoking the Captain’s wrath.

Your wide, doe-like eyes were glued to the Captain’s expressionless, geometric mask. You felt small like a defenseless kitten staring down a jaguar. He radiated danger, a predator in every sense of the word. Fear clawed at your chest. You were a part of the rebellion, and now the leader of the guards had personally come down to corner you and your allies.

Gi-hun’s grand plan to overthrow the game management crumbled in that very moment.

The sound of a scuffle shattered the silence, pulling you from your thoughts. Behind you, there was movement, followed by Gi-hun’s voice. “Leave her alone! She’s not in on this!”

His shout cut through the heavy atmosphere like a knife, drawing everyone’s attention. But the Captain didn’t react. He remained perfectly still, his focus locked solely on you.

Your breath hitched, and you quickly lowered your gaze, unable to hold the intensity of his stare any longer. You cast your eyes to the floor, trying to collect yourself, but the unease didn’t fade. His unwavering attention was unnerving, and a small part of you couldn’t help but feel puzzled.

Why had he shot the guard who injured you? What did he mean by disobeyed?

A sharp wave of pain pulled you from your thoughts. You winced, clutching your injured arm. The wound throbbed relentlessly, and when you pressed lightly against it, you could feel the bullet lodged beneath your skin. The sensation made your stomach churn.

Though you’d looked away, the Captain hadn’t. His head remained tilted slightly in your direction, his attention fixed on you like a hawk watching prey. Then, he spoke in a commanding tone. “Check her.”

Two square guards stepped forward at his command, lowering their weapons as they approached. You stared at them in a mix of confusion and apprehension. One of them spoke in a flat tone. “Get up.”

“No!” Gi-hun shouted, trying to rise from his knees. But before he could, two guards pinned him down, holding him firmly in place. “Leave her alone!”

The Captain finally shifted his attention, lifting his gaze to Gi-hun and Jung-bae. A tense silence followed, every movement in the corridor stilled. It was as if the Captain held everyone’s fate in his hands, his authority absolute and unchallenged.

“Player 456,” the Captain’s deep, distorted voice filled the corridor, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Did you have fun playing the hero?”

The same square guard as before repeated to you. “Get up.”

You stayed kneeling, your heart pounding, as the Captain began to move. His steps were measured and calm as he circled you and headed toward Gi-hun and Jung-bae meters behind you. Concern for your friends twisted in your chest. Your mind raced as you tried to anticipate what the black-masked man might do. You turned your head to follow his movements, watching him intently as he approached them.

Stopping directly in front of Gi-hun and Jung-bae, the Captain raised his left arm. The stark white pistol in his hand caught the light as he aimed it squarely at Gi-hun’s face. The sudden gesture made you gasp, alarm flooding through you as fear for your friend overtook you.

“Look closely,” the Captain said, his tone ominous. “At the consequences of your little hero game.”

Gi-hun’s jaw tightened, his teeth gritted as he stared directly into the barrel of the pistol. You could see the tension in his body, the way he held himself still to project bravery. He didn’t want to give the Captain the satisfaction of seeing his fear. Despite this, his defiance didn’t lessen your terror. You couldn’t stand by and let him die.

“No!” you shouted, your voice breaking through the silence. Desperation filled every word. You pushed yourself to your feet, your knees shaking as you took a step forward. Before you could get closer, a square guard moved quickly, blocking your path. Undeterred, you tilted your head, craning your neck to keep the Captain in view.

“Please, don’t shoot him!” you pleaded, your voice trembling. “This whole plan was my idea, so it’s my fault. I’ll do anything!”

The corridor fell into a heavy silence. The guards stood still. Gi-hun and Jung-bae stared at you in shock and disbelief. Even the Captain paused, though his grip on the pistol remained unwavering.

“What are you saying…?!” Gi-hun’s voice rose, anger and panic blending together.

The Captain’s mask turned toward you slowly, his attention now fully on you. Though his aim at Gi-hun didn’t falter, the weight of his gaze pressed down on you, making it harder to breathe. His silence spoke volumes, and it was enough to send Gi-hun into a spiral of worry, his expression shifting to one of alarm and helpless frustration.

“Hey!” Gi-hun shouted as he straightened his posture, still kneeling but clearly trying to draw the Captain’s attention back to himself. “It was my idea! She’s lying!”

“Y-yeah!” Jung-bae added, his voice shaky, his eyes wide with panic. “She was lying!”

But the Captain remained unmoved. He didn’t even glance at them. His masked face stayed locked on you. Slowly, he lowered the pistol from Gi-hun’s face. Without haste, he turned his entire body toward you, a deliberate motion that made it clear you now had his full, undivided attention.

Your heart raced, pounding so hard you thought it might burst. Fear and vulnerability coursed through you. His presence felt all-encompassing. It's as if the walls of the hallway had closed in, leaving you exposed and utterly at his mercy. You could feel the weight of every eye in the corridor, yet it was his attention that made the air thick and hard to breathe. You had wanted to divert his focus to protect Gi-hun, but now that you had it, it felt like standing in the path of an oncoming storm.

“Among the trashes in this world…” the Captain’s distorted voice broke the silence as he began to step toward you, “…blooms a single flower.”

You froze, his words twisting in your mind, their meaning unclear but unsettling. Gi-hun’s voice broke through the tension again as he tried to rise from his knees, his movements frantic.

“No!” he yelled, his tone laced with desperation. He lunged as if to intervene, but two square guards grabbed him immediately, dragging him back down. This time, his struggle was wild and unrelenting. The guards shoved him to the ground, pinning him on his side. One of them pressed his head to the floor with brutal force, but still, he screamed in resistance, his eyes wide with fear for you.

Jung-bae, pale and trembling, stayed where he was, his hands still raised in surrender. Two guards loomed behind him, their MP5s aimed squarely at his head, ready to fire at the slightest provocation. The tension in the air was unbearable.

Gi-hun’s shouts echoed through the purple hallways. The Captain, unfazed, continued his steady approach until he stopped directly in front of you. You couldn’t look away, your eyes locked onto his masked face. He stood tall, radiating authority, while you remained standing before him, powerless and exposed.

He was the embodiment of power and control. He alone dictated the rules of this twisted game. You, on the other hand, was stripped of any leverage, offering yourself up to protect those you cared for. The unspoken tension between you hung thick in the air, every second stretching endlessly as his masked gaze bore into you.

The Captain extended his left hand, gloved in sleek black, his palm facing upward. He held it steady, hovering in the air between you two. Your gaze flicked from his hand to his mask, trying to decipher the meaning behind the gesture.

Finally, his distorted voice broke the silence. “Come with me… and I will let your friends live.”

Your eyes widened, locking onto him in shock. The weight of his words sank into you like lead.

“Don’t!” Gi-hun shouted as he fought against the guards holding him down. “He’ll hurt you! You can’t trust him! Whatever he’s offering, it’s a lie! He’ll…”

His voice cracked, his frantic movements becoming more erratic. “He’ll break you apart!”

His words stabbed at your resolve, each one a reminder of the unknown danger you might be stepping into. You could feel the genuine care and anguish in his voice. Gi-hun was more than disappointed at his plan’s failure; he was terrified of losing those he considered friends. He’d rather take the consequences himself than watch them fall on you.

Your mouth felt heavy, unable to form a response to his pleading. Instead, your focus returned to the Captain. His gloved hand remained steady, a silent invitation that demanded a response. He didn’t rush you. He didn’t need to. He ruled this place. He could wait as long as it took for you to decide.

Your heart pounded as fear coursed through you. What would happen if you took his hand? What would he do to you? Would he hurt you? Strip you of your dignity? Hand you over to his guards to face whatever cruelty they had in mind? The questions swirled relentlessly in your head, each one more horrifying than the last.

Then, the sharp sting of your bullet wound brought you back to the moment. You winced as the pain flared, a reminder of the very real danger you were already in. Your left upper arm throbbed, the blood sticky beneath your fingers where you clutched the wound.

You were scared. Terrified. But you cared about your friends even more. Gi-hun, Jung-bae, and the others mattered to you. They had become your family in this cruel, twisted game. If you didn’t act, their lives might be forfeited. That thought was unbearable.

“I will have your wound treated right away,” the Captain said, his voice calm but commanding. The unexpected offer made your breath catch, and your eyes snapped back to his mask.

You stared at him for a long moment, blocking out the noise of Gi-hun’s struggles behind the masked leader. His screams faded into the background as you wrestled with the decision in front of you. Your arms began to tremble, a sign of the terror coursing through your body.

It was at that moment that despair took hold of you, its weight pressing heavily on your chest. If Young-il were here, he would have been livid with you for even entertaining this decision. But he wasn’t here.

Grief surged through you then and there. Tears brimmed in your eyes, blurring your vision until a single drop escaped, tracing a path down your cheek. A sob broke free from your throat. The thought of Young-il – his absence, his sacrifice – slammed into you like a physical blow. He was gone. The memory of his promise to meet you outside this nightmare, should you both survive, now felt like a cruel joke. He had risked everything to protect you, and now you two would never see that promise fulfilled.

The bullet wound on your upper arm throbbed with a dull ache, but it paled in comparison to the searing pain of your loss. You’d lost him. And it was only now, standing here in this twisted moment, that you realized you had fallen in love with him. The man who had risked his life time and time again for you, who had treated you with care and respect even in this unforgiving place, was gone.

Soft sniffles and quiet sobs echoed down the corridor. Gi-hun, who had been shouting moments ago, fell silent. He looked at you, his eyes wide with understanding. He knew. He knew that it was his plan, his gamble, that had led to Young-il’s death and the deaths of others. Now, with the Captain’s shadow looming over all of you, the weight of that guilt was palpable.

The Captain, on the other hand, remained still and patient. His hand hovered between you, waiting for your decision. This enigmatic figure, who had mercilessly shot his own guard moments earlier, stood there quietly as you sobbed, giving you space to grieve. His presence was unnerving yet he offered no words, no commands. He simply waited as if time itself bent to his will.

You withdrew your hand from your face and wiped away the tears staining your cheeks. With a shaky breath, you finally managed to steady yourself. Lifting your gaze, you looked back at the Captain. His hand was still extended, his posture unchanging, as though he had all the time in the world.

Your eyes shifted to Gi-hun and Jung-bae behind him. Both of them were watching you, their faces pale and filled with dread. The terror in their expressions only deepened your resolve. You knew that if you went with the Captain, the three of you wouldn’t be shot dead. This was the only way for the three of you to survive after instigating an uprising.

Slowly, you raised your trembling hand and placed it in the Captain’s gloved palm. The leather was cool against your skin. As soon as your hand settled in his, his fingers curled around yours like the closing of a steel trap. There was no escape now.

You raised your gaze, meeting the enigmatic Captain’s towering presence. His mask remained inscrutable, hiding whatever thoughts might be running through his mind. Without a word, he turned and began walking toward the hallway behind you, his grip on your hand firm but not forceful. You followed quietly, your steps heavy with uncertainty and fear.

Behind you, the square guards followed you two in formation, their boots echoing sharply against the corridor floor. The sound of Gi-hun’s scream suddenly broke through, raw and anguished. He was still pinned to the floor by two guards, but his struggle had only intensified.

The sound made you falter for a moment, but the Captain didn’t pause. He kept walking, pulling you along with him. You frowned, realizing that Gi-hun’s anger was more than just a protest against the Captain’s actions. Perhaps he had seen you in a different light. Maybe he cared for you more than you’d realized. He had told you once that you reminded him of his late friend. Protecting you must have felt like a way to redeem himself, to make up for his failure to save his friends in the past.

What you didn’t know was that Gi-hun clung to you for a deeper reason. You didn’t just remind him of his lost friend. You reminded him of himself. By protecting you, he felt he could protect the part of himself he had lost, the part that still believed in hope and redemption. In saving you, he believed he could save himself from the guilt that had haunted him for so long.

The Captain led you down a labyrinth of hallways. At one point, you tugged your hand free from his gloved grasp. He didn’t stop you, nor did he turn his head or say a word. You were grateful for that small mercy. The thought of his touch manipulating your already fragile resolve made your stomach churn.

Behind you, the square pink guards marched in two perfect lines. Their synchronized footsteps echoed through the corridors. The uniformity of their movements spoke volumes about the Captain’s control. It was clear that his authority reached deep, dictating not just their actions but the very rhythm of their existence. This was power on a level you had never seen before, and it left a dreadful weight in your chest.

As you rounded another corner, a new figure emerged from the hallway ahead. Several square pink guards followed closely behind him, but this man was different. His mask bore the same square symbol as the others, but the rest of his appearance set him apart. His uniform, while identical in design, was entirely black, accented with bold pink stripes and a matching pink belt. He carried himself with a stern, commanding presence that was almost as unsettling as the Captain’s.

The square black guard halted as soon as he saw your group, and the pink guards behind him followed suit, stopping in perfect formation.

“Captain,” the square black guard said respectfully. “One manager and twenty soldiers have been dispatched to the dormitory to subdue the rest of them. It appears there are no backup plans for the uprising.”

The Captain stopped walking just a few feet away from them. The square pink guards and you came to an immediate halt as well. You glanced sideways at the Captain, your suspicions reaffirmed. He was undoubtedly the highest authority here, and this new figure was likely his second-in-command.

The Captain’s voice broke the silence, low and solemn. “What’s the update on the rest of the players who rebelled?”

You blinked, your attention sharpening as the words registered. He was talking about Hyun-ju, Gyeong-seok, and the others you had managed to supply with ammo.

“We had shot most of them down,” the masked officer reported in a detached tone as if he wasn't discussing the loss of human lives. “One or two managed to retreat to the dormitory and hide among the players.”

Your gaze dropped, despair washing over you like a tidal wave. More players were dead. You didn’t know if Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok had survived, but the weight of the losses was suffocating. The uprising had failed spectacularly, leaving most of you dead.

Then another thought gripped you. All those who participated in the plan were X players. With most of them gone, combined with the losses during lights out, the Os would dominate the next vote. It was inevitable. The remaining players would be forced to continue into the next game, whether they wanted to or not.

Your thoughts shifted to your friends back in the dormitory: Jun-hee, Dae-ho, Yong-sik, and his mother. They must be terrified, anxiously waiting for news, hoping for the best but fearing the worst. What would they feel when they learned about Young-il’s death? The thought twisted your heart, and tears began to well in your eyes again.

Just as the first tear threatened to fall, the masked officer’s voice cut through the air. “Would you like us to single out those rebels and shoot them in front of the others as a lesson, Captain?”

Your eyes widened in horror. The idea was monstrous. To drag out the survivors of your team and execute them publicly for the remaining players to see? It was cruel beyond comprehension. It was an act designed to break what little spirit the players had left.

Ignoring the pain from your injury, you turned your terrified gaze to the Captain, who stood quietly, his posture as steady and unreadable as ever. His head remained slightly tilted toward the officer. The tension in the air was palpable as every guard waited in silence for his command.

Finally, in his deep, distorted voice, he said, “No. Let them. They will have their lessons by the players, the next vote, and the next games.”

You looked away, his words sinking in like a stone in water. You understood what he meant immediately. Those who had participated in the uprising would face judgment, not from the guards but from their fellow players. The X players, now devastated in numbers, would likely blame the rebels for their downfall. The bitterness would lead to harsh reprimands and isolation.

The O players would mock and deride the rebels. Their cruelty would aim especially at Gi-hun. With so few X players left, the Os might seize control of the dormitory entirely, leaving the remaining X players in an even more precarious position.

The weight of it all settled heavily in your chest. The rebellion hadn’t just failed; it had shattered any remaining hope for unity.

Suddenly, the Captain spoke, his deep, distorted voice cutting through the tense air. “Have one worker come to Room 147. Bring a medical kit.”

Without waiting for acknowledgment, the Captain began walking again, moving past the masked officer and the pink guards. The masked officer immediately fell into step beside him, though still slightly behind, a position that subtly acknowledged the Captain’s authority. Clueless, you followed behind the Captain. The rest of the pink guards fell into formation without being told.

In a matter of seconds, the Captain stopped outside an unmarked door, causing everyone else to halt as well. He turned to you and spoke directly. “Wait inside. A guard will tend to your wound.”

You stared at him, your gaze lingering for a moment before you lowered your head. Pushing the door open, you peered inside. The room was stark and simple, painted in the same monotonous purple as the hallways. It contained nothing more than a plain table and two chairs.

Before you could step in, the Captain spoke again, this time addressing the guards. “One manager will stand guard outside the door. Soldiers, arm up and prepare for the next vote.”

He paused, shifting his attention to the second-in-command. “Managers and you, head to the control room. I have a word with you.”

The underlying reprimand was clear.

With that, the Captain turned on his heel and strode away. You glanced at the masked officer, noticing the rigidity in his posture as he stared at the Captain’s retreating figure. The square guards fell in line behind the Captain, moving like disciplined soldiers toward what you assumed was the control room. For a brief moment, the masked officer stood frozen in silence before he, too, followed after them without a word.

One square guard remained by your side and said flatly, “Please wait inside for a worker to tend to your wound.”

You stepped inside, closing the door softly behind you. The room’s silence was almost oppressive, and you sat down on one of the two chairs, cradling your injured arm.

Now that you had nothing else to divert your attention to, the pain of your wound became all the more prominent. A sharper wave of pain shot through your arm. You winced. You adjusted your hold on the wound, trying to ease the pressure without worsening the pain.

It was barely two minutes before the door opened, revealing a circle guard carrying the familiar red medical kit. The guard stepped inside, setting the kit on the table before turning their masked face toward you.

“Sit still,” they instructed, their voice flat and emotionless. “Hold your arm steady.”

You nodded silently, holding your injured arm in place as the guard began laying out the contents of the kit. Antiseptic, gauze, tweezers, and a scalpel gleamed under the fluorescent light. The sight of the sharp instruments made your stomach churn, but you kept your face composed.

After you took off your jacket and lifted up the sleeve to expose the raw injury, the guard began to work on it methodically.

“This will sting,” they said before applying antiseptic. The sharp burn drew a hiss from your lips, and you gritted your teeth to keep from crying out.

As they continued, your thoughts wandered. What would your life look like now? The realization of having surrendered yourself to the Captain weighed heavily on you. Would this be your new reality? A nightmare on Earth where every action was dictated by a man who wielded absolute power? The thought chilled you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if escape was even possible.

You glanced around the room, your eyes flitting to the door, the walls, and finally the tools spread across the table. The scalpel caught your attention. It was small, but it could be a weapon. The idea lingered. Could you really fight back? Could you find a way out of this labyrinthine hell? The questions gnawed at you.

“Hold still,” the guard reminded. You snapped back to the present, focusing on the pain as they worked to extract the bullet. The tweezers dug into the wound, sending sharp, searing jolts up your arm. You clenched your jaw, your nails digging into the armrest of the chair.

After what felt like an eternity, the guard finally pulled the bullet free. The small piece of metal clinked against the tray. Next, they applied ointment to the wound. Then, they wrapped your arm in clean white bandages, securing them snugly.

“You’re done,” the guard said simply, beginning to pack up the kit.

You stared at the scalpel, your eyes darting back to the circle guard as they moved around the room. The thought lingered in your mind. You wanted to use it. You had a plan, a desperate one, but were you willing enough to act on it? To kill someone, who had done nothing wrong to you, in cold blood? The very idea made your stomach churn.

Yes, you had killed loan sharks and triangle guards before, but you did it to protect yourself. But to kill this circle guard who had tended to your wound and had been nothing but respectful to you? You were hesitant. But your will to survive burned stronger, too. You didn’t want to be violated by any guard, the Captain, or be trafficked. Surrendering didn’t mean you consented to anything, and the fear of what might come next only deepened your desperation.

But as you hesitated, the circle guard packed the scalpel into the medical kit and snapped the lid shut. It was done before you could muster the courage to act. The opportunity had slipped through your fingers. But you felt both relief and frustration. Relief that you hadn’t resorted to violence, but frustration at the loss of a potential lifeline.

The circle guard picked up the kit and left the room without a word, leaving you alone once more. You stayed seated, your arm throbbing with a dull ache under the bandages. But the pain was secondary. Your thoughts were consumed by what awaited you under the mysterious Captain’s rule. What would he do to you? Would he make you a pawn in his twisted games, or worse? You shuddered.

Your musings were interrupted by the sound of the door opening again. The square guard who had been stationed outside stepped inside. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Get up. I will bring you to another room for your next command.”

You stared at him, trying to decipher his tone. Was he implying that you were to become one of them? The phrasing of his words made you wonder if you were about to be inducted into their ranks, a thought that filled you with unease. What you didn’t know was that he was simply taking you to another holding room to wait for the Captain’s summons.

Slowly, you began to rise, your movements stiff as the pain in your arm flared up again. Before you could fully straighten, something slammed into the square guard’s back with a force that made him stumble forward. You flinched, stepping back instinctively as a single triangle guard burst into the room. The door shut with a loud thud, trapping the three of you inside.

The triangle guard attacked the square guard without hesitation, striking him with the butt of their MP5 gun again and again. The sounds of the struggle filled the small room, the square guard grunting in pain as he tried to fight back. But the triangle guard’s assault was relentless, leaving the square guard no chance to recover. Within moments, the square guard collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

You pressed yourself against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest. Your wide eyes locked onto the triangle guard as they turned their attention to you.

Who are they? Were they connected to the triangle guards who you had killed before? Those two who intended to violate you? The thought chilled you to the core. You couldn’t help but wonder if they had come to finish what the others had started. Your back pressed harder against the wall as if trying to disappear into it. You braced yourself, preparing to defend or attack if needed.

To your surprise, the triangle guard stepped backward, lowering their stance as if to show they meant no harm. “I mean you no harm. I’m here to save you.”

You frowned, your body still pressed against the wall as doubt flickered across your face.

“How can I trust you?” you asked, your voice laced with wariness. The memory of the two triangle guards who had threatened to violate you was still fresh, their words and intentions leaving scars deeper than your injury. What if this guard was just like them, luring you into a false sense of safety only to hurt you later?

They didn’t move closer. Instead, they stood their ground, hands at their sides in a gesture of peace. “Someone asked me to save you. It’s no secret to the guards that you’re here because of Captain's mercy and player 456’s plan.”

Your eyebrows furrowed further. “Who’s that someone?”

For a moment, the guard was silent, their gaze unreadable behind the mask. Then, finally, they said, “I can’t tell you who. But I can show you. You have to follow me first. They were injured during the uprising.”

Their words hung in the air, and realization dawned on you. That ‘someone’ had to be one of the players who had joined Gi-hun’s rebellion. Still, doubt and wariness still clung to you.

The guard reached into the pocket of their pink jacket and pulled out a revolver. Placing it on the table, they stepped back again.

“We don’t have much time,” they said, their tone insistent but calm. “If you don’t trust me, take this. Keep it pointed at me if you want. But we need to go. A manager or the Captain himself will come to fetch you soon enough.”

Your gaze darted between the guard and the revolver, uncertainty gnawing at you. Something about the way they spoke, their demeanor, seemed genuine. Why would they arm you if they meant to harm you? The sincerity in their actions nudged at your resolve, chipping away at your doubt.

Slowly, skeptically, you pushed yourself away from the wall. You stepped toward the table and picked up the revolver. Checking the cylinder, you saw it was fully loaded. With a small click, you snapped it shut and slipped it into your jacket pocket, keeping your hand wrapped tightly around the grip.

You looked at the guard, your expression tense. “Lead the way.”

The triangle guard stepped closer to the unconscious square guard and knelt down. They reached for the square guard’s mask and removed it, revealing a man beneath it. His face was obscured by a black headsock that left only his eyes visible.

Standing, the triangle guard moved to the door and cracked it open just enough to peek outside. After a moment of tense silence, they gestured for you to follow. Your grip tightened on the revolver hidden in your jacket pocket as you quietly followed their lead.

The two of you navigated the maze of hallways. You kept your eyes fixed on the triangle guard, observing every detail. Their figure seemed delicate, not the physique you’d expect from someone capable of taking down a square guard. It struck you then that they had used the butt of their MP5 to subdue the square guard, not their bare hands.

You noticed the guard kept glancing upward every time you two entered a new purple corridor. Following their line of sight, your eyes landed on a CCTV camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling. That’s when it hit you. This guard was carefully navigating through hallways that were free of CCTVs, deliberately avoiding surveillance.

The hallways twisted and turned, each intersection making it harder to keep track of where you were. Finally, the triangle guard halted in front of an unmarked door. They scanned the surroundings, ensuring that the area was clear. They opened the door and gestured for you to enter.

You hesitated, peering inside before stepping through the threshold. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on a familiar face.

Gyeong-seok was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the wall. His jacket was on the floor beside him. He was only donning his shirt and pants. His hand clutched at his lower abdomen, and his face was contorted in pain. But when your eyes met, his expression changed entirely. A look of astonishment, almost disbelief, lit up his features.

He called your name with a breathy voice that was shaky but filled with relief. “You’re okay.”

Without thinking, you bounded into the room, closing the distance between you and Gyeong-seok in an instant. Dropping to your knees beside him, you reached out, your hands hovering uncertainly as you took in his condition. There was an opened medical kit next to him on the floor. The mysterious triangle guard promptly shut the door behind them.

“Gyeong-seok,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion. “Oh, God. What happened to you?”

He gave you a weak smile, wincing slightly as he adjusted his position. “It’s… a long story. But I’m glad you’re okay…”

The triangle guard quietly walked toward you and Gyeong-seok and kneeled on the other side of him. In a low voice, they said, “Let me see.”

You watched silently as Gyeong-seok withdrew his hand from his lower abdomen. There it was. A gunshot wound that had been hastily tended to, the makeshift bandages still faintly stained with blood.

“I’m okay,” Gyeong-seok said with a labored breath, his softening gaze fixed on the triangle guard. “Thank you…”

The guard didn’t respond immediately. For a moment, it seemed like they weren’t sure how to react to the gratitude. Instead, they remained silent, their body language unreadable.

“But why?” you asked, your curiosity breaking through your cautious demeanor. Your wide eyes locked onto the guard. “Why did you save us? Who are you?”

The triangle guard shifted their attention to you, their mask hiding any hint of emotion. They didn’t answer right away. Instead, they rose to their feet and turned toward the wall, their back facing both you and Gyeong-seok.

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” they said solemnly. Then, turning back to face you, they took a few steps closer and extended their hand, holding out a square mask. “Keep this.”

You blinked, confusion etched across your face, but you took the mask from their hand without protest. The triangle guard stepped back toward the door.

“Stay here and keep quiet,” they instructed, their voice calm. “I will come back in a moment.”

They cracked the door open just enough to peek outside. After ensuring it was safe, they slipped out, leaving the door ajar for a brief moment before it clicked shut behind them.

Now alone with Gyeong-seok, you turned to him, your concern evident. “What happened? Were there any others who survived?”

Gyeong-seok let out a slow, pained exhale. “The guards… there were too many of them. Everyone else… they were shot dead.”

His eyes dropped to the floor as if the weight of the truth was too much to hold. “I don’t know about Hyun-ju, though. She might… she might still be out there.”

Gyeong-seok let out another strained breath, his hand pressing lightly against his bandaged abdomen. “The guards moved in on us and we were cornered. We surrendered and I was shot.”

He paused, his gaze flickering to the floor as if trying to piece together the fragmented memories. “When I woke up, I was here. That guard… they were tending to my wound. I don’t know why or how, but they saved me.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. The revelation only deepened the mystery surrounding the triangle guard. Why would they risk themselves to help? What was their motive? You glanced back at the square mask in your hands, its smooth, faceless surface offering no answers.

“Did they say anything to you?” you asked.

Gyeong-seok shook his head weakly. “Not much. Just told me to stay quiet and rest. Then there was a command through their radio. It was about you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, the sudden detail catching your full attention.

Gyeong-seok’s expression was serious despite his obvious fatigue. “Someone was giving orders through their radio. They said that player 423 should not be shot… at all costs.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Player 423. That was your number.

“They seemed really adamant about it. It made me wonder what they’d do to you instead. Through the radio, I overheard them saying you’d been taken to a room. That’s when I asked…” he paused, gesturing weakly toward the door, “…the guard to save you.”

His words hung in the air. You tried to process everything. Why would someone order that you not be harmed? And who and why gave such an order? Questions flooded your mind, each one more troubling than the last.

“So, they agreed?” you asked in disbelief, still wondering why the triangle guard saved you out of the blue.

Gyeong-seok grimaced slightly at the ache in his wound. “They didn’t say much, just nodded and left. When I woke up again, I was here. Then you showed up.”

You sat back slightly, clutching the square mask in your hands as your thoughts raced. The pieces didn’t fit together, but one thing was clear: someone out there had decided your fate, and it wasn’t entirely in your hands anymore.

“Do you have any idea who gave the order?” you pressed in a low voice as something crossed your mind.

Gyeong-seok shook his head weakly. “No clue. But whoever it was, they had authority. The guards followed the command without question.”

You pieced it together almost instantly. It had to be the Captain. He was the one who shot the guard who had accidentally harmed you. It made sense that he would be the one giving orders to keep you alive. But why? What reason could he possibly have for sparing you?

Before you could dwell on it further, the door creaked open. You and Gyeong-seok tensed, your bodies instinctively stiffening. Relief washed over you both when the triangle guard stepped into the room. To your surprise, they were carrying two sets of hot pink uniforms.

They shut the door behind them with a soft click and stepped forward.

“Put these on,” they instructed, their voice calm but firm.

***

Firm footsteps echoed through the endless maze of purple hallways. The Captain strode forward with purpose, his long, calculated strides never faltering despite the labyrinthine corridors. Behind him, four square guards flanked him in perfect formation, their movements synchronized as if pulled by invisible strings.

The Captain’s mask remained forward-facing, his body language exuding an unshakable authority over everything. Each turn of the hallways seemed to have been memorized, as he moved without hesitation, as though the twists and turns of the corridors were etched into his mind.

Finally, he reached a door. Without a moment’s pause, he pushed it open and stepped inside. His masked gaze scanned the room. The simple space contained a table and two chairs, but it was empty. His eyes moved, landing immediately on an unconscious pink guard slumped against the wall, his mask removed and gone.

The Captain’s entire focus fixed on the guard. The tension in the room thickened as the four square guards behind him surveyed the space, their heads turning slightly but never breaking their rigid stance. The Captain’s silence was deafening, his stillness radiating an almost tangible anger.

“Wake him up,” he commanded, his voice low and sharp, carrying an edge that made everyone’s posture stiffen further.

One of the square guards stepped forward and knelt beside the unconscious guard. They patted his cheeks firmly, the repeated motion bringing him back to consciousness. The pink guard’s eyes fluttered open, confusion etched into his features. As awareness returned, he instinctively brought his hands to his face, his fingers brushing against his exposed skin. Horror dawned on him as he realized his mask was missing.

His wide eyes darted upward, locking onto the imposing figure of the Captain. The room seemed to freeze as the Captain stood perfectly still, exuding a cold, silent fury. The unmasked guard began to stammer, his words spilling out in a jumbled mess of fear and panic. His trembling voice filled the air as he tried to explain himself, knowing full well the consequences that awaited him.

The Captain silenced the stammering guard with a single, cold question.

“What happened?” he asked, his deep voice cutting through the room like a blade.

The unmasked guard pushed himself back against the wall, trembling as he tried to muster a response. “I… I was… attacked. By a-a-another guard. I got… knocked out…”

The Captain raised his left hand, his white pistol steady and unflinching. He aimed it directly at the space between the guard’s eyebrows. Without a word, he pulled the trigger, the shot echoing through the room. The guard slumped over, lifeless, as the sound faded into silence.

The square guards standing beside and behind the Captain didn’t flinch. They remained perfectly still. The Captain lowered his pistol to his side, glancing around the room calculatively. His eyes moved and searched for any clues that might reveal what had transpired. Every detail was scrutinized, every corner of the room taken in.

After a long moment of silence, he turned on his heel, heading for the door. As he exited, his voice rang out with authority. “Begin a wide search for player 423.”

The square guards dispersed immediately, exiting the room in formation. The air filled with the sound of their boots echoing down the hallways.

Soon after, an announcement blared through the facility. “Attention. A wide search is now underway for player 423. All guards are to report any findings immediately. Repeat: begin search for player 423.”

The message repeated as guards across the compound mobilized. Pink uniforms flooded the hallways, their movements swift and synchronized. Each guard methodically checked rooms, peered into corridors, and examined every nook and cranny. The tension in the air grew heavier with every passing second.

In an hour, under the Captain’s absolute order, every guard – circle, triangle, and square – assembled in the control room. The circles stood at the far back near the walls, their presence more subdued but still important. The squares took their places in front of the circles, scattered around the room and stationed near the monitors that lined the walls. The triangles, armed with their MP5s, stood in perfect formation on the central floor. Beneath them, a massive screen displayed the remaining players in the game.

In front of all the triangle guards stood the Captain. His presence itself was commanding. Although his posture seemed rigid and calm, unspoken anger still radiated from him like invisible smokes. Every guard in the room could sense it. Despite his stillness, his fury was almost tangible.

The masked officer, the Captain’s second-in-command, approached him and stopped a respectful distance away. The officer delivered his report. “Captain, a wide search for player 423 has been conducted throughout the facility. Unfortunately, there has been no trace of them. The CCTVs have also failed to capture any sightings.”

The control room fell into a heavy silence. The Captain said nothing, his masked face angled downward as if he was lost in thought. Every guard seemed to hold their breath, waiting for his reaction. The sound of the monitors quietly buzzing was the only thing breaking the oppressive stillness.

Then, after a minute of agonizing silence, the Captain finally moved. Slowly, deliberately, he began to walk in a wide circle around the room, his footsteps echoing against the polished floor. He didn’t look at the triangle guards lined up at the center that he was circling around. Instead, his focus was on the square guards standing by the monitors. His masked face turned toward each one as he passed. It was impossible to tell where his thoughts lay. The weight of his presence pressed down on everyone in the room.

You swallowed hard in anxiety. Behind the square mask you wore, your eyes followed his every movement with laser focus. You were stationed beside a monitor in the second row starting from the center.

Your disguise was meticulously planned by the mysterious yet kind triangle guard who had helped you. Before the assembly, they had instructed you to take a position at any unmanned monitor. These monitors, now vacant, were left without operators due to the deaths of their original handlers during the uprising.

As the Captain’s slow, deliberate pacing brought him closer to you, the tension became unbearable. His movements were calm, but his presence was suffocating. Finally, his gaze seemed to finally land on you. His pace didn’t change, but his mask turned toward you, the pointed stare unmistakable even through the emotionless square of his mask.

Your breath hitched as realization struck. He knew. He knew you were there, disguising as one of them. But he didn’t know which one of the square guards in the room it was. But how does he know?

The Captain continued his walk around the room. His masked face turned toward each square guard he passed. When he completed his circuit, he returned to where he had initially stood and stopped. He cast his gaze downward, his posture rigid and commanding.

The silence in the control room was stifling. Every guard stood frozen, waiting for the Captain’s next move. No one dared to speak or even shift in place as the oppressive atmosphere pressed down on everyone present.

Finally, his second-in-command broke the silence. “Captain, would you like to conduct a second search?”

The Captain remained still, his silence stretching on for what felt like an eternity. His head remained angled downward, as though he was contemplating the suggestion. The room held its collective breath, the tension almost unbearable.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Captain lifted his head, his mask facing forward. “No.”

A wave of relief rushed through you, so sudden and overwhelming that you almost swayed where you stood. Behind your square mask, you felt a flicker of hope. He’d given up, you thought. He’d abandoned the search for you. You couldn’t let your relief show, but inwardly, you were delighted.

But the Captain wasn’t finished. His next words shattered your fleeting sense of safety.

“She wishes to play sumbakkogjil (hide and seek). Very well,” he said, his tone carrying a certainty that sent a chill down your spine.

Your relief gave way to a gnawing unease, the weight of his statement settling over you like a storm cloud. He wasn’t giving up. No. He was willing to play with you.

NEXT : Chapter 15

PREV : Chapter 13

Story Masterlist

Please feel free to leave comments and feedback about my story, the characters, the "you", and practically anything! I love reading your comments, especially long ones! It motivates me a lot! So what do you think about the Captain and his overall character writing? Do you feel his dark and ruthless presence? Did I do a good job writing it? What do you think about "you" lying and offering yourself up to the Captain in exchange for Gi-hun and Jung-bae's life? Because of that, the Captain finally gave you his full attention. He then asked you to come with him. What do you think he would do to you once you accepted? And Gi-hun was so distraught about you being taken away. What do you think of it? Next, what about the conversation between the masked officer and the Captain? They talked about the update on what had happened to Hyun-ju, Gyeong-seok and others. Then, what do you think about you considering to kill the circle guard but you were hesitant? Does that show what kind of person you are? Suddenly, a mysterious triangle guard appeared and attacked the square guard who was guarding you. Who was it and why did they save you and Gyeong-seok? Do you like this path of aftermath I took? What do you think about the the Captain being quietly pissed off and told everyone to do a wide search for you? Now, how does he know about you disguising as a square guard? Lastly, what do you think about the ending where you unknowingly started a hide and seek and it's just a special game between you and him?

Leave a comment on the masterlist post to be added to the taglist.

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho fanfic #in ho #the front man #player 001 #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #front man x reader #front man x you

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idciminlove · 5 days ago

Text

FIGHTER.

Part Eight - Like

Cinnamonacid on AO3

Kang Dae Ho x f!reader

warnings- themes of PTSD, father issues, mention of overdose (but not an actual overdose), grief, etc.

You make some new friends, and some old ones too.

Dae-Ho could still feel the warm press of your body against his. It wasn’t until he had you in his arms that he realized how small you were. Your presence was so strong, making you larger than life, like an angel or a goddess, but when he held you, you felt real. Like something attainable, something human.

You wanted to push him away at first, he could feel it. Your body tensed up, and he almost let you go, but then he felt you relax. Felt your head rest on his chest and your arms wrapped around his back, soft and gentle, as if you gripped him too hard, he would break.

You were like fire..all different kinds. A forest fire, wild, untamed and dangerous, burning anyone that got close, but also a fireplace, warm and inviting, comforting on a cruel, frigid night.

You were truly something else. He had never met anyone like you.

“Is everything okay?” 001 asked, bringing him back to reality. All of his other teammates were looking at him now, concerned from his unusual silence.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just got a little lost in thought, I guess.” He grinned, shifting his focus on their conversation instead.

–

Dae-Ho introduced himself (Dae-Ho - Dae as “huge” and Ho as “tiger,” of course) and listened to their names and the meanings behind them. He knew 456’s name was Seong Gi-Hun, since he had been called that by the other men. But he didn’t know the rest. There was 390, or Park Jung-Bae (meaning twice and righteous) who supposedly lives twice as righteously, 001, which was Oh-Young Il, his name coincidentally meaning zero one, (maybe that’s why they gave him the number), and Miss 222, Kim Jun-Hee. She didn’t know the meaning behind her name.

As they talked, he couldn’t help but gaze over at you, letting his attention drift once again. You were sitting on your bunk, all alone. He knew you probably preferred it, knew that you could handle yourself just fine, but it didn’t sit right with him, especially after the two of you had made up. Everything was okay between you two, so why couldn’t you join him?

Once again, he was standing in front of the group. He gestured to you. “Would it be okay if we had her join us?”

“I don’t know. She kinda seems like trouble.” Jung-Bae mumbled. “She got into a fight on the first day, and she doesn’t exactly seem popular around here. If we have her on our side, it might be harder to convince people to change their vote. How do you even know her, anyway?”

“She saved me in the first game. Of course, Gi-Hun was very motivating, but she was the one who really got me through it.” Dae-Ho admitted, slightly bashful.

It was the truth. Without you, he didn’t know what he would’ve done. He was in a bad way that game, with all the gunshots, blood, and screaming bringing back memories he had so desperately tried to repress. His hands were all shaky and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and then you took his hand, and guided him through it. You truly had saved him, and he still doesn’t know why. All he knows is that he owes you one. The least he can do is look after you.

“She helped me too.” Jun-Hee chimed in. “She was the one who told me to join your group. She gave me the confidence to do it.”

Gi-Hun and Young-Il traded glances. Young-Il was the first to speak. “Sure, why not.”

Gi-Hun didn’t say anything, just nodded his head in agreement.

–

You could feel their eyes on you. Thanos and Nam-Gyu, glowering at you, watching you like a hawk watches its prey, circling like sharks in blood thirsty waters. You tried not to pay attention to them, tried not to show your fear because you knew the moment you did, they would win. So instead, you lied on your back, staring at the bunk above, gazing at the metal fixtures, and counting down the minutes until the next vote.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Dae-Ho’s head popped up from the side of the bunk, standing beside it, below you. “Hey.”

“You scared the shit out of me!” You practically jumped out of your skin, startled. You were so surprised that you almost hit your head on the bottom of the bunk above you.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you heard me.” He offered you his hand.

“What?” You asked, gazing at it hesitantly. What is this about? What does he want?

“Come with me.” It wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you took his hand, letting him carefully help you down from his bunk. You expected him to let go of you once he had done so, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept holding your hand, leading you over to the group, the team he had been with in the pentathlon.

He finally let you go once you reached them. “You should meet my friends. This is Seong Gi-Hun, Oh Young-Il, Kim Jun-Hee, and Park Jung-Bae.”

You bowed politely. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Aren’t you going to tell us your name?” Jung-Bae inquired.

“Oh, yes, right.” You hesitated for a moment, gazing at Dae-Ho. He gestured to you encouragingly, a bright smile on his face. You took a deep breath and told them your name.

Jung-Bae repeated your last name. “Wait, like the famous MMA fighter?”

“Yeah. That was my Dad.”

You watched the older men’s expressions change, watched as it clicked. Who your father was, who you are, a major piece in the puzzle, falling into place. It all made sense to them now.

“Ah, the heavyweight champion, The Dragon. Gi-Hun and I were big fans. We would bet on his fights all the time.” Jung-Bae remarked, pumping his fist. “That explains how she’s so tough. Yeah, I can totally see the resemblance.”

You smiled softly. It was always such a bittersweet feeling when people recognized you and your father. There was always the awe and amazement, and then the pity. Your father had kept his family life private from the tabloids, so most didn’t know about you, and you liked that. You’d rather gain your own fame through blood, sweat, and tears, working your way up the MMA rankings instead of being known just for being someone’s daughter. What little information was known about your father was his death, rumors of his overdose spread like wildfire, whispers of him being a junkie, using during his career, when they didn’t know the true story.

No, they didn’t know anything at all.

“It was a shame what happened to him.” Jung-Bae added, pity and sympathy clear in his voice. Young-Il nodded in agreement.

Gi-Hun spoke, soft and quiet. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

You nodded, looking at the ground, unable to meet their stares. In your periphery, you could feel Dae-Ho’s eyes on you, and see his hand move, as if he wanted to reach out to you. You heard those words time and time again, so much that they lost their meaning. It’s a shame. I’m sorry. Like that would bring him back. Like it would make you feel better. You’re so tired of hearing it. You’re so tired of the pity and the guilt. You’re so, so tired.

Before your conversation could continue, the guards entered the room, thankfully shifting the focus to something else you had to worry about. They congratulated you on getting through the game, and clicked the remote. The piggy bank lit up and the bills fell in, the amount of money going up on the chart while the number of players went down.

20.1 Billion Won. 78 million won each.

The players around you complained. It still wasn’t enough.

The front guard tried to appease them. “Your concern about the prize money is completely understandable. However, we always leave the door open for you to explore other opportunities.”

A shiver went down your spine. You looked over at Thanos and Nam-Gyu. Nam-Gyu caught your gaze, a snake-like grin crossing his lips.

Two guards brought the voting podium into the front of the room. Everyone got into their lines. You sighed softly.

The cycle continues.

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