#dear and unfamiliar
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egophiliac · 18 days ago
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A guy who just wake up from a coma -> what did i miss?
Pomefiore was the last plot i follow before real life made me forget about our silly boys. How bad has the plot become now for our gang? Also who is that Gojo looking guy?
anon, I am so sorry and I mean this in the best way, but I do think episode 5 is the absolute funniest place to have stopped following Twst because shit starts escalating SO fast after that. episode 6 literally starts with a secret government shadow agency breaking down our doors and kidnapping students. zero to a million instantly.
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and like...that's not even the zaniest thing so far? Ortho's hacked into the collective human unconscious. there's time travel (sort of). "Crowley might be Malleus' long-lost father" is a serious theory. if you'd told me any of this back pre-episode 6, I would have asked for the link to this unbelievable but highly intriguing fanfic.
also, episode 7 gave us (and then immediately took away 😔) the best character in the whole story:
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pink-lemonadefairy · 5 months ago
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#probably my last sunny walk at home :(#keeeeellll meeeee#i think one of the things i hate about going back to uni is not being able to experience autumn and winter at home like i used to#it’s weird because i’ve always loved them and considered them my favourite seasons.#but last year (and now this year) i’m realizing that oh! i think it’s because i got to come home after a long day and be in a safe familiar#space. and at uni everything is still a bit unfamiliar and not very comforting so the long cold days get so much harder#but i will surviveeeeeee#counting on gilmore girls to get me through it!! and also love is blind s7. i LOVE having things to look forward to every week it makes tim#fly by so fast. last yr every friday night was reserved for me and i ate frozen pizza or takeout and/or my favourite snacks and#watch my comfort films :( i cooked a lot those nights too 2 save money but yeah. it was rlly nice to have that comfy safe time to myself#i think it rlly got me thru uni.#ik it’s gonna be so hard to get back into a routine but im trying to tell myself that i need to like. focus on the basics first. adulting#can be so hard & i wanna do everything at once! i wanna b perfect in all areas. always do my hobbies. etc etc but i#i couldnt even get out of bed to make myself meals sometimes 💔 so i need to like remember if i don’t journal or read a whole book in a day#not the end of the world. and most importantly i need to be EATING and staying active and SLEEPING FIRST and foremost cause then hopefully#i won’t feel like a zombie.#okay anyways.#feeling sad feeling tired feeling unmotivated but also feeling a teensy bit excited for finally BEING ALONE!!!!#i have my cardiologist appt tmrw so maybe that’s why i feel so yuck also. just thinking abt it makes me wanna throw up#i hope everything goes well#anyways bye bye#♡ dear diary

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becdecorbin · 11 months ago
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yaaay the book is here! and the text is nice and big, too. alas the illustrations are rare and in greyscale but, concessions you gotta make with a paperback book.
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irhabiya · 6 months ago
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hi silky!! hope you're well <3
for the ask game: 25 and 42
25. role model
quite a few! and for different reasons. my mom and older brother are the first to come to mind
42. favorite book(s)
the stillborn by arwa salih (will never stop recommending it to egyptian leftists), adrift on the nile by naguib mahfouz, ŰŁÙˆÙ„Ű§ŰŻ ۭۧ۱ŰȘÙ†Ű§ (children of gebelawi is the english name i think?) by naguib mahfouz, woman at point zero by nawal el saadawi, my people shall live by leila khaled, a river dies of thirst by mahmoud darwish (poetry collection but wtv), ŰȘŰșŰ±ÙŠŰšŰ© Ű§Ù„Ù‚Ű§Ùïżœïżœ by zahran al qasmi
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bowbow-the-clown · 2 years ago
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... A Dear MaiLMan Out And About ...
.. and not a hated mailman in and not so about ...
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sopekooks · 2 years ago
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i’m packing my bags and it suddenly hit me that i’m seeing this angel in 3 days đŸ„čđŸ©·
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queendynamight2001 · 7 months ago
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Today, I was reminded of the copies I used 6 years ago, in grade 10 bought to be by my grandfather. those sweet memories of 2019 ink on paper. I walked to my grandparents home to fetch those copies. memories came flooding back just like my tears
I asked my grandfather where he bought they years back. Cant find copies like that nowadays. he said he will look for them and bring them to me if he finds any.
suddenly nothing feels the same. Sudden realization that those moments were in the past just hits me hard. nothing will be the same. those copies will be different from the ones he bought me 6 years ago. Nothing will ever be the same.
Dwelling on past hurts, but sometimes that is the only place I find comfort in.
I sometimes wish i could go back to that naive 15 year old girl but I wouldn't want to live like her
I still want her I love her I would hug her She deserves the world
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yawnderu · 8 months ago
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Ex-husband Simon never truly goes away. 
Simon’s stomach twisted into a knot as he heard your muffled sobs, your warm tears seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt, holding onto him for dear life even if he’s the one responsible for your pain. 
“I hate you, Simon.” Empty words that still send an unfamiliar ache to his chest, his soul hurting for you. 
“I know, baby, I know.” He managed to croak out, his voice hoarse. The sight of the gold wedding band on his finger stabbed at something deep within him, reigniting the flicker of emotions he always tried to push aside for an amicable divorce. 
Ten years down the drain, your whole life reduced to nothing but ink and paper. Simon’s duty to the SAS and the 141 took up so much of his time, often only managing to be home for a few months out of the year. Missed holidays and celebrations, broken promises of trying to be more present. As understanding as you tried to be, everyone reaches their breaking point. 
“Give me some time, love. I’ll retire. Y’can get anythin’.” Perhaps it is selfish to ask you to wait, yet how is a broken man expected to give up on the only beacon of light he has amidst all the darkness and shadows? His highschool sweetheart, his beloved wife. 
“How long?” Your whispered question hit Simon like a blow to the gut, so much trust and fear held in only two simple words. He closed his eyes for a moment, his hands tightening around your waist as you still straddle him, nearly cuddling him up even if all you could do was cry. 
“After we scatter Johnny’s ashes. S’ gonna be a quick trip to Scotland, and then I’m all yours.” He paused for a moment, his rough fingers tracing over the band on his ring finger, his touch always gentle in your presence. Despite the ring being a constant reminder of your love and broken promises, it was always safely tucked under the thick material of his gloves. Simon’s way of keeping you with him, of having something that made him cling to his sanity no matter how much bloodshed those same hands spill. 
“Half a month.” He’s more explicit this time, his warm hand running up and down the length of your back, not daring to go lower despite how much his entire soul craves you. It’s a tender moment that gives him an inner sanctity, and he’s not looking into ruining it. 
His eyes flutter shut as your delicate arms encircle his shoulders, hugging his body closer to yours, the smell of tobacco invading your nose. Despite it all, you’re placing all your trust in Simon one last time.
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yueebby · 1 year ago
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happy wife, happy life  — gojo satoru
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synopsis. not fawning over his wife may prove to be harder than gojo thought.
contents. fluff, gojo is so whipped for his wife and everyone is tired (whats new), ooc gojo?
notes. this was pure self indulgence. i wanted to slander and coddle gojo all at once and this was it teehee :3
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the first thing you hear when you stand up to leave the staff meeting is a wolf whistle.
“looking good,” satoru looks you up and down. you roll your eyes playfully, your husband’s behavior is not foreign to you. he taps your upper thigh, dangerously close to your butt as you take your leave. however, the others in the room don't take kindly to the action.
“highly inappropriate behavior gojo,” utahime mutters under her breath from across the table. beside her, nanami is giving your husband a hard stare. 
satoru pays no mind to them though, smiling up at you as you walk out of the room. you shake your head when he continuously blows a series of kisses. he ignores your rejection, opting to mouth crude comments instead.
the moment the door shuts, the strongest sorcerer immediately deflates, disinterested in whatever matters the rest had to discuss about. 
“i don’t know how she puts up with you,” utahime takes a long sip out of her cup of tea. beside her, shoko snorts.
“probably for his body.” shoko is not unfamiliar with satoru’s antics, having witnessed it since his rowdy school days. she applauds him for coming far with you, but it was still fun to tease him.
gojo crosses his arms, emitting a disgruntled sound. “and my golden personality?”
nanami sighs, “ieiri’s conclusion is most likely right.”
the limitless user wiggles his finger playfully. “nanamin, how scandalous of you to fantasize about my body! i’m a married man y’know~” 
nanami looks like he has eaten something sour. unlike you, nanami’s attitude towards gojo has not softened as the years passed.
“i’m surprised she’s still with you.” utahime snickers. “she’s a sensible woman and you’re–” 
satoru frowns at her statement.  he’d never thought about how you felt about his behavior. perhaps that was his fatal flaw. gojo satoru had a nasty streak of negligence. and the last time he failed to notice someone dear to him —   
“well i’m glad she ended up choosing me, yeah?” his frown is quickly covered up by the wide smirk on his face. he leans back on his chair that’s starting to feel less comfortable by the second. the chair creaks under the weight of his body. honestly, how old are these old wooden things? “as much as i’d like to keep chatting about my lovely wife, i’d like to get this meeting over with so i can see her again.”
the rest of the meeting ensues as usual.
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“sensei has been weird
 right?” itadori offers his hand after knocking megumi down during a sparring match. the black haired boy grunts as he is pulled up.
“if by weird, you mean normal.” megumi glances back at you and gojo who are watching intently at the first and second years practicing close combat on the training field. it was a bit peculiar to see satoru not throw himself all over you. gojo without pda is like a jigsaw puzzle missing its most essential piece, leaving the overall picture incomplete and lacking the electrifying energy that defines his existence. 
“i feel like i should be happy, but it’s unsettling to see him not initiating some misconduct. do you think they’re fighting?” nobara is panting on the grassy floor. she raises her hand in surrender when maki leaps in to take her head off with a spear.
maki retracts her blade, turning back to observe you and gojo, “nah, gojo would fold at her command.” 
“salmon.”
from across the training field, you turn to your husband nervously, “why are they staring at us?”
satoru hums, his blindfolded gaze focuses on the field in front of you, “hm, maybe they’re admiring their very beautiful [name] sensei.” the blindfolded man pauses. compliments should still be okay– right? satoru can’t imagine a life without lavishing you with love, yet he will content himself with gently sprinkling you with affection. 
you smack his shoulder playfully. to your surprise, your husband doesn’t reciprocate with some form of physical affection. you tilt your head, perplexed. 
quickly dismissing it, you yell at your students to continue their training.
you don’t notice the way satoru clenches his fists, keeping his eyes trained anywhere but you.
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the next time satoru is tempted by your presence is when he comes back home after a mission. it was a walk in the park, but the heavy stack of paperwork that followed it had depleted his energy. all he wanted was to snuggle in bed with his wife, selfishly keeping you all to himself.
and you’re not making it easier to resist with the way you warmly greet him with a smile in nothing but a small cotton tee and those tiny pajama shorts. eyes up, eyes up, eyes up, satoru mentally chants.
he thinks he might actually die.
“toru!” you abandon the book you had been reading to pay your husband taxes (kisses that satoru demands he must have). “you’re home awfully late.”
“mission
 paperwork,” his clipped response is mumbled as he hurries past you and to your shared bathroom, avoiding your touch. satoru silently prays to the heavens that you don’t notice his suspicious efforts as he makes his way to take a much needed ice cold shower.
you stand in your spot in confusion, letting your husband go. slowly, you start to connect the pieces of satoru’s strange behavior from his refusal to touch you to his sudden responsible disposition. gojo satoru never does paperwork– not unless you bribe him with a dozen kisses. speaking of kisses, you don’t even remember the last time he had demanded one. something was definitely wrong. 
without missing a beat, you quickly follow your lover’s trail into the bathroom.
to your delight, your husband had failed to lock the door. in the hush of your silence, you can hear the subtle rustle of satoru's garments.
his sky blue eyes go wide when he sees you walk through the door.
“toru
 is there something wrong?” your voice is careful. 
the white haired man in front of you nervously laughs as he covers his bare chest, “geez, ask me out to dinner first.” 
“gojo satoru.”
your husband winces at his full name being used, but he puts on another mask. a faux smile plays on his lips as he shrugs. “i don’t know what you mean, gojo.” 
your heart drops at his insistence to shut you out, but you stand your ground. with sheer determination, you walk up to your husband, closing the gap between the two of you. you cup his cheek with a hand while you start to lean closer, your lips nearly brushing.
satoru shuts his eyes, inhaling a deep breath to regain composure. he even sucks in his lips, making him look utterly ridiculous. despite the dangerous allure of your proximity, he resolves to stand firm.
"you won’t even kiss me anymore! satoru, this is absurd. what's happening?" you distance yourself, seeking answers.
despite his towering stature, a snort escapes you as satoru resembles a mere child when mumbling something under his breath.
"come on, use your big boy words."
"i don't want to drive you away," he avoids making eye contact now that his blindfold is off. "i know i can be a bit overwhelming at times."
upon hearing his excuse, you snort loudly, “seriously?”
“seriously.”
“i can’t believe i married such an idiot.” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck.
satoru pouts, “you’re breaking my heart wifey.”
your lips softly kiss the corner of his mouth. like it was muscle memory, satoru’s lips chase yours even after you pull away. you smile.
“for such a genius, you really are stupid ‘toru.” you flick his forehead. he whines and you know it didn’t hurt, yet you entertain him by leaning up to kiss his injury. “believe it or not, i married you for reasons beyond your pretty face and body.”
“you think i’m pretty?” his eyes shine bright as they lovingly gaze into yours. you take one hand to cup his cheek. he nuzzles his face into it.
“of course you’d say that.” you laugh softly. “but honestly, i’m offended that you thought i would ever be annoyed by your affections. might i remind you that we have been madly in love since our youth? i found myself captivated by your ability to love effortlessly, and the way you hopelessly pined for me for years? i knew i was a goner. that
 and your bank accoun–”
satoru kisses you with an intensity that leaves you feeling blissfully lightheaded. lost in the haze of the moment, he showers the rest of your face with tender, wet kisses, and you stand there, surrendering to the sweet assault.
upon withdrawing, satoru wears a broad grin. "i was an idiot today, wasn't i?" you nod, breathless. "how about i make it up to you tonight?" he proposes, drawing you close. you are all too familiar with that feral grin adorning his face.
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stunie · 7 months ago
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“YOU CRAZY? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”
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WIND BREAKER + YOU NOT RECOGNIZING THEM. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader
filled request : a chunk of it -> “..reacting to drunk reader not recognizing them and they wanna take reader home but reader won’t let them and tells them to fuck off or else her boyfriend (which is right infront of her) will kick their ass..”
notes : aa ! ! i am also a sucker for plots like these !! sorry it took me a while to get to >: thank u sm for sending this in nonnie <3 (cw alcohol ; but the consumption isn’t really mentioned in this)
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HAYATO SUO.
“don’t you dare touch me,” suo’s eyes widen when you’re clumsily swatting at his hand, half lidded eyes narrowing into your best attempt at a glare. your words are slow and slurred, but he still manages to understand the gist of what you’re trying to say. “my boyfriend’s gonna make you pay if you do,” you huff, pointing an accusatory finger at him and jabbing it a couple times into his chest for extra measure.
“oh?” his gaze softens a bit, unbeknownst to you, and his smile is back the second he understands what’s happening here. “your boyfriend? where is he now?”
the way your glare immediately falls at your realization almost makes him feel bad, and he’s giving you a smile of pity when your lips tug into a deep pout. “um
” you frown, eyebrows furrowing to rid of the tears already starting to blur your vision, “i don’t know
”
“you don’t know?” suo’s voice is steady, easily hiding the way he’s stifling a laugh at the sudden change in your demeanor. he’s watching with amusement as you start to sniff, hands coming to messily wipe at your eyes with your sleeve as you start babbling, spewing out things about how “you need to find your boyfriend right this second” and how you’re “all lonely now.”
“oh dear,” he chuckles, hands coming to lightly grasp around your wrists, “your boyfriend has told you not to wipe your eyes like that before, hasn’t he? you’re going to irritate the skin.”
“mhm,” you give him a shy nod before staring up at him with confusion, gaze flickering to the thumb he’s bringing to gently swipe at the tears collecting along your lashes a moment later. the way you’re stiffening up at his touch is cute— and it looks like you’ve unconsciously recognized his familiarity even in this state.
“y-you know my boyfriend?”
how endearing.
“sure. i know him pretty well,” suo smiles, hand coming to press against your lower back as you guides you forward, “so let’s find him, okay? come with me.”
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KAJI REN.
“huh?” you’ve got kaji completely petrified, eyes blown open as his hands defensively shoot up in front of him the second you’re slowly waving your pepper spray back and forth— the pepper spray he had bought you, by the way. “what do you think you’re doing?”
“i’ll tell you exactly what im doing,” you retort, eyes narrowing at the alleged unfamiliar man in front of you, “i’m gonna call my boyfriend here, and he’s gonna beat your ass if you don’t leave in the next five seconds.”
ah. the slur in your voice is all it takes for the situation to suddenly click in his head. and now that he’s looking at you closer up, he’s surprised that you’re even able to stand in such a state. you’ve only come here with him, so the only way you’ll be going home is if he takes you home.
and that’s not looking very plausible right now.
he’s clicking his tongue before ripping through another lollipop, raking his fingers through his hair as he goes through the potential routes he can go with this. how the fuck was he gonna bring you home like this..? and actually, how would it make him look if people see him forcefully tossing you onto his back and booking it home?
this was a terrible situation through and through.
“um— come here,” he tries coaxing you the way he would with a stray animal, fingers coming to hesitantly pinch your sleeve to lift your arm without technically touching you, and he’s slowly moving it a couple inches to the right. “i’m your boyfriend. let’s go home.”
you shake your head.
his cheeks are flushing red when he realizes there are onlookers now, a handful of people watching the situation unfold, and you’re not helping his case at all— arms crossed across your chest as you eye him up and down suspiciously.
“c-candy,” he grumbles under his breath, deep red spreading to the tips of his ears. “i’ll give you a piece of candy if you come with me. sound good?”
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TOGAME JO.
“m-my boyfriend can fight, you know” you stumble backwards, slowly backing up until your back meets with one of the tables, and it’s just great. you’re completely trapped now. he’s looming over you the next second, big hands resting on either side of you as you try to steady your breathing.
togame will be here any minute, you’re reminding yourself. this is fine.
“that so?” there’s a low chuckle from him, and he’s feigning innocence, looking around to locate this boyfriend of yours. “i don’t see him anywhere.”
your breath catches in your throat. your vision’s still dizzy, world spinning each and every time you move your head, and you search around your hips, internally cursing when you realize your purse is gone too.
no phone, and no boyfriend.
he’s moving awfully close to you now, and you can’t move— can’t call your boyfriend. “y-yeah,” you manage to stammer, thinking hard as you decide what to do. “he even taught me how to fight
 so don’t test me.”
now that’s a bluff.
“oh. did he now?” togame’s brow raises at your threat, trying to resist the urge to laugh when you’re quickly nodding the next second, cute hands balling into little fists— and oh, that’s not quite how you’re supposed to do it.
but he’ll teach you another time. “so
 in that case
 you know what to do when a guy does— this?” his fingers wrap around your wrist before you can get a word out, pulling you forward in one swift movement.
you’re gasping as soon as you fall forward, crashing straight into his chest, and his arms are quick to wrap around you, big hand coming to pat at your head like a dog.
“oh, how weird. i didn’t think he’d teach you to hug other guys.”
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UMEMIYA HAJIME. cw : he jokingly refers to himself as your kidnapper (he did not kidnap you)
“what now, haji?” your eyes narrow at the phone screen being shoved an inch in front of your face, and ume’s gone puppy mode beside you, excitedly rocking back and forth on your bed as he waits for you to hit play.
“just watch! you’ll see. press play.”
you rub at your eyes, wincing at the way your head starts to throb, still pounding from the events of yesterday. the video that plays out in front of you is completely dark for the first seconds, and you’re quick to grow impatient— seconds away from huffing and pushing his phone away until you finally hear a rustling, followed your own voice.
“haji’s gonna make you pay,” you cringe at the sound of your own voice, and there’s a loud sniffle that follows. “so take me wherever you want, ya goof. he’ll really make you regret it when he finds me.”
no way.
“‘haji’ huh!” you hear umemiya burst into a laughing fit, your face burning at the way he’s poking fun at your past self, and you hear your drunken self scoffing at him a second after. “so what kinda guy is he, huh? your kidnapper’s gotta know!”
there was absolutely no way he recorded himself carrying you home.
“he’s huuge,” the video catches your hiccup, “he can toss you around like nothing. i’m warning you now. so you can put me down if you get it.”
from the muffled sound of your voice, you think ume probably had you tossed over his shoulder, a strong arm wrapped around the back of your thighs to keep you draped over him. “that so?” he chuckles, “what’s he look like?”
“i can’t believe you,” you sigh, fingers rubbing at your temples, “you’re unbelievable.” you’re sneaking a quick glance at your boyfriend, but he’s still focused on the video, soft smile tugging at his lips. “keep listening, ‘kay baby? this is my favorite part.”
uh oh.
“he’s the prettiest boy ever!” your cheeks are immediately filling with heat at your shameless confession, hand slamming over your mouth— there was absolutely no way. “you wouldn’t believe it. you’ll know when you see ‘im. he’s gorgeous. beautiful. i looove him! don’t fall in love with my boyfriend— you better not. he’s mine.”
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newyikecity · 1 year ago
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.
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lanternlightss · 1 year ago
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oh this feels strange
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deusfoundry · 18 days ago
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min ho who claims to hate you, insists that you're the most annoying, bothersome person in his life, but is also the one who knows every little thing there is to know about you.
min ho who complains that you talk too much, that he's never given a moment of peace whenever you're around because of your incessant yapping, but he's the first person to bring up the latest episode of your favorite show. the topic sends you into an unstoppable spiral, has you going on and on and on that you don't even have the time to think about how he knew there was a new episode to begin with. min ho rolls his eyes once your rambling ends, makes a quip about how he didn't know you'd talk that much, and acts as if he hadn't been listening intently to every word that came out of your mouth. like he didn't ask you questions, brought up details from past episodes that he knows would get you to talk more.
min ho who drags you through the mud for being such a picky eater, eyes the vegetables you shove to the side of your plate with disdain, but he wordlessly reaches into your plate to pick out everything you don't like before you can do it. he leaves just enough of it, though, if he knows it's not something you're allergic to. he doesn't give you the chance to whine, claiming that your not eating of those nasty veggies is the reason for your skin breaking out. but really, min ho just wants you to eat something healthy for once.
min ho who comments on your less than decent grades, borderline making fun of you, but he gives you a copy of his meticulously written notes complete with a set of practice problems. he tells you to meet him in the library after your classes, and you find him in one of the tables tucked at the very back, away from prying eyes. he's got almost every inch of the table's surface covered with notes and books and flashcards, and you spot a bag of snacks he'd smuggle in hidden beneath. you gather the courage to ask him why he's putting in so much effort for you, and he says it's because your grades are pitiful, that he can't let anyone associated to his name horrendously failing.
min ho who confesses in the quiet of the night, just before a week long break from school when he knows no one will be checking the dorms. who remembers that you like confessions that are intimate, none of those grand, over the top gestures in public but rather, something that's shared between two people. between the only people who really matter.
it works for him, too, because in all the years he's spent dating, asking girls out left and right like it's as easy as breathing, you're the only one who's brought him to such a state. an embarrassingly deep shade of red dusting his cheeks that's thankfully hidden by the darkness of his room. the hesitation in his voice that's so unfamiliar, it tastes like acid on his tongue. the way he stumbles over his words, flailing helplessly as you stare at him wide eyed.
it's maddening, what you've done to him. how you seem to have no knowledge of just how deep his feelings run for you.
but it's worth it, min ho thinks, when your stunned expression morphs into one of delight.
it's worth it, when you take his hands into yours, clutching at his fingers for dear life as you tell him that you like him too.
it's worth it, now that you're his.
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wqnsho · 1 month ago
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crossroads | hwang in-ho x fem! reader
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*.✧ synopsis: after losing his wife, hwang in-ho buried his emotions. but when he meets you, a player in his deadly games, his carefully guarded walls begin to crumble, forcing him to confront feelings he thought he’d left behind. *.✧ word count: 20.3k (i'm deadass) *.✧ warnings: squidgame season 2 spoilers, violence, death, mentions of exploitation and abduction, implied suicide, additional character (player 143 - hanni) , usage korean words and suffixes, angst, fluff. reader has no canon age but has a kid. backstory is inspired by acrobatic silky from dandadan. your number will be 132. *.✧ note: requests are open! (please). I wrote this to the entirety of squidgame season 2, so it's gonna be long. (from the second game till the end). i wanted to add an oc decided to add my baby hanni instead so i hope it doesn't come off as cringe. part 2 will be posted once season 3 comes out :D i love in-ho so much he's so yummy. masterlist | request here
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As everyone shuffled into the area for the second game, Hwang In-ho smirked beneath his mask, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. Among the players, Gi-hun stood out, his gaze darting around the unfamiliar room. Instead of the playground with shapes on the walls that promised, the players were met with two gigantic circles on the floor. Discontent quickly erupted as the crowd realized they’d been tricked. Voices rose in anger, some calling him a fraud, others voicing their disappointment. Most dispersed in frustration, but In-ho, ever the calculated observer, comforted his "friend" with feigned concern. Inside, however, he was ecstatic.
In-ho, operating undercover as "Young-il," watched Gi-hun carefully. He observed the way his mind worked, his expressions shifting as he processed the situation. Every movement and every decision captivated him. This “hero” was an enigma In-ho couldn’t stop studying.
The guards began dictating the rules of the second game. Instead of the anticipated Dalgona candy challenge, players were introduced to the Six-Legged Pentathlon. Teams of five would have their legs tied together and had to complete a pentathlon on a circular path within five minutes. Failure meant elimination.
The scramble to form teams began. In-ho found himself grouped with Gi-hun and two others, players 388 and 390. They needed one more member, and player 388 eagerly volunteered to recruit. Soon, he returned with player 096. Before they could finalize, a loud yet nervous voice interrupted them.
"Excuse me, can she join your group?"
All eyes turned to you and another woman, player 222. Your determined gaze contrasted with 222’s startled expression.
In-ho’s eyes scanned you, noting the [hair characteristic] [hair color] hair framing your tired but kind [eye color] eyes. Your presence radiated something unusual for this cutthroat environment. As 222 tugged at your arm, whispering protests, you stood firm, making it clear your decision was final.
"I'm sorry, but we're already—" In-ho began, only to be cut off.
"Please," you pleaded, your voice steady. "She's pregnant."
The words hung in the air, silencing any objections. Reluctantly, they agreed, replacing 096 with 222. You bowed deeply in gratitude, offering an apologetic smile to 096 before turning to leave.
"I'm really sorry about that," you said earnestly. "But if you'd like, can you team up with me? I'm very skilled at gonggi. I promise! Cross my heart!"
Player 096 hesitated before nodding, following you to form a new team. As you and 096 walked away, two pairs of eyes lingered on you—In-ho’s, as he silently praised your selflessness, and 222’s, her expression a mix of guilt, gratitude, and betrayal.
In-ho couldn’t shake his fascination. Your kindness, despite in a setting like this, reminded him of someone dear, slowly stirring feelings he thought long buried.
Luck favored In-ho’s team; they were the last to compete. This allowed ample time to strategize as they observed the others. Your team’s turn came, and In-ho found himself unexpectedly invested. You and your teammates executed the challenges flawlessly, clearing the first four games in under three minutes. As your team moved on to the final station, In-ho couldn’t suppress a small sigh of relief. But that relief quickly turned to tension when the last player started messing up.
In-ho’s gaze never wavered from you. He knew your team was skilled, but with only 30 seconds left, the stakes were higher now. His heart raced, the pressure mounting as the seconds ticked down. Would they pull it off? The jegi soared into the air, and In-ho held his breath, watching with bated anticipation. The first kick, then the second, the third
 each landing perfectly, and still, there was no room for error. It was the final kick that would determine everything. His pulse quickened as your teammate sent the jegi flying, and with one flawless strike after another, they nailed the fifth and final kick.
The crowd erupted into cheers, but all In-ho could hear was the pounding of his own heart. The relief that washed over him felt far too intense. He paused. Why was he cheering so loudly? Why was he worried? His eyes lingered on you as your team crossed the finish line, your victory adding warmth to his chest that he couldn’t explain.
His mind raced, trying to shake off the strange emotions. But then—[eye color] clashed with his black ones, and the world around him seemed to stop for a brief, breathless moment. There was no game, no betrayals, no stakes. It was just the two of you, alone in your own world. You gave him a small wave, and his chest tightened. He waved back, but the gesture felt like a lifetime of unspoken words.
As you were escorted away, the warmth lingered, and In-ho stood there, rooted to the spot, wondering why his chest felt so heavy and yet so alive.
Back in the main area, you found yourself bonding with a cheerful teen, Player 143. Since the first game, you, 143, and 222 had found a quiet camaraderie. You found 143 comforting 222 at the corner at the finish line and decided that you’ll protect those two with all your might. 143 had a bubbly energy that reminded you of home. Her lighthearted teasing about your "crush" on 001 made you laugh, despite the grim circumstances.
"Sure, sure, whatever you say, you little rascal," you replied, ruffling her hair. Her youthful spirit was a balm in this harsh environment, offering a welcome distraction from the tension of the games.
The conversation shifted as she shared bits of her past. Hanni, as she revealed, told you that her debt stemmed from an exploitative contract with her peers, which promised fame and opportunities but left her and her friends in the dark about everything. Despite the weight of her story, she kept her optimism, her dreams still burning brightly. You couldn't help but wonder how someone so young had ended up in such a terrible game, but something was inspiring about her ability to hold onto hope in such a hopeless place.
When she asked about you, you hesitated for a moment but then decided to share. "My name’s [Name]," you began. "I’m a fashion designer and a part-time preschool teacher. I also
 have a talent for guns."
Hanni’s eyes widened in surprise. "Guns? How does that fit into designing clothes and teaching kids?"
You chuckled softly. "It’s a long story. Let’s just say I’ve always been drawn to shooting ranges. It started as a hobby, and somehow, it turned into something I’m pretty good at."
You paused, feeling the weight of the conversation shift. The topic of your debt hung in the air. You faltered, not sure whether to open up, but the teen’s unassuming curiosity made you want to share more.
However, before you could speak, the last group of players returned, signifying the end of the game. Hanni immediately perked up, her attention shifting to Player 001 and their group as they found a place to sit together, which was conveniently located just a few steps from your bed. She gave you a sly grin before playfully pointing toward him with her eyebrows.
"Hey, hey, unnie! Look, it’s your man!" she whispered-yelled, clearly enjoying playing matchmaker.
You chuckled before waving her off with a signal to be quiet. The last thing you needed was for word to get out about your little crush, especially in the middle of a deadly game.
As you shushed Hanni, she had other plans. With rapid hand gestures, she invited Player 222 over to your small corner. The unsuspecting woman gave the two of you a confused look before excusing herself from her group of men and heading your way.
When she reached you, you both greeted her gently, concern evident in your voices.
“Welcome back unnie! Congrats on finishing the game, I knew you could do it!”
"How are you feeling? Is the baby alright? Are you in any pain?"
Player 222, shook her head and waived off your concerns, giving a small smile. "I’m alright. Thank you for asking."
Hanni, the chatterbox, didn’t waste a moment. "By the way, unnie, can we know your name? I really don’t know what to call you other than 222. You don’t have to tell us if you’re not comfortable, though!"
Player 222 chuckled softly at the teen's eagerness. "Well, I suppose I could introduce myself." She smiled and then shared her name—Kim Jun-hee. She explained how she had been scammed, abandoned by her boyfriend, and now found herself here, in this deadly game, pregnant and alone.
You offered her your sympathy, relating to her pain. You’d been in similar situations, dealing with your own painful experiences with men over the years. "Unfortunately, we all have our stories," you said, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "We just have to keep going, don’t we?"
The three of you sat there for a while, chatting about your pasts, your dreams, and your shared longing for a life outside of this twisted game.
"When I get out and get justice, I’ll become a popular idol with my friends!" Hanni declared excitedly, her eyes shining with ambition.
You and Jun-hee exchanged surprised glances, both of you impressed by her optimism despite everything. "You’ll definitely make it, Hanni. You have the spirit for it," Jun-hee encouraged her with a smile.
"Of course we will! And when you’re on TV, you better send us some VIP tickets for your show!" you added, making Hanni beam.
"You better pose cutely for those photocards, okay?" Jun-hee teased.
Hanni shot her a playful look. "Of course! Will this pose be enough?" She asked as she gave a dramatic pose, and you all laughed.
"Hey!" Hanni looked at the two of you with an exaggerated pout. "You’re not doubting me, right?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "No, no, I’m sure you’ll make it. Just don’t forget us when you're famous, alright?"
As Hanni and Jun-hee bickered over the finer details of idol life, you couldn’t help but smile with a bittersweet feeling in your chest. These two didn’t deserve the cards they’d been dealt, and they certainly didn’t belong in this twisted game. But at least for a brief moment, you all found comfort in each other’s company.
You silently prayed for them—no, for all of you. For everyone here who didn’t deserve to be part of this nightmare. You hoped you could all make it out alive and live better lives. But deep down, you knew the path ahead would be treacherous, and the price of survival would be steep.
The conversation ended when the pink guards entered the room. Everyone watched in anticipation as the guards displayed the updated prize pool: 20.1 billion won, or 78,823,530 won per person, with 255 players still alive. The room was suddenly filled with murmurs. Most were in disbelief that the money per person was still under 100 million, some even demanded a recount. The guards paid no attention to the chatter and continued speaking.
"We always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. Therefore, you will take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not. Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here, please feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner."
Once the guard finished speaking, Jun-hee ushered the two of you to join their group. Hanni nodded with a smirk before standing up. You rolled your eyes, hoping she won't cause a scene once she made her way down. "The two of you go first. I'll follow you shortly," you said, making hand gestures for them to go ahead. Thankfully, the two of them followed without question, although you were sure Hanni whispered something to Jun-hee as they walked down the stairs.
With the girls out of sight, your gaze drifted back to the piggy bank hanging from the ceiling. ‘78 Million won...’ The number flashed in your mind, but instead of the excitement you’d hoped for, a deep sense of emptiness settled within you. Your hand unconsciously rubbed your stomach as memories of what was lost surged into your thoughts.
A pained expression flickered across your face as you stared at the money. It wasn’t enough. It could never be enough to make up for everything you had sacrificed, everything you had lost.
“Just one more game...” You whispered to no one in particular.
The moment you made your way down to the others, the group welcomed you warmly. You offered a polite smile and greeted them back. As was customary, you bowed to the familiar men you had met earlier.
"Thank you again for accepting Jun-hee into your group earlier. I’m glad you all got out safely," you said, your voice sincere.
"Ah! No, no, don’t worry about that, it’s all fine!" Player 390 immediately replied, his voice light and reassuring. He waved his hand dismissively. "If anything, we should thank you! That girl quickly finished her game, gave us much more room to breathe."
You smiled at his words, feeling a small spark of warmth. "Really? Well, I’m glad. Before we found you, she kept boasting about her skills in ddjaki and how she won multiple times with the salesman. Glad to know she wasn’t lying."
Jun-hee rolled her eyes at your comment before giving you a playful shove. You laughed, brushing it off before turning your attention back to the group.
"My name’s [Name] by the way. [Last name], [Name]. I’d rather you call me that rather than this stupid number," you said with a teasing grin.
The rest of the group followed suit, introducing themselves in turn. Player 456 was Gi-hun, Player 390 was Jung-bae, Player 388 was Dae-ho, and last but not least, Player 001 was Young-Il—whose name, when revealed, earned an unexpected pinch from Hanni. You tried not to show any discomfort at the gesture, but you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. Who were you to ruin a teenager’s fun, though?
As everyone continued to chat, the conversation quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was just nice to talk with someone, anyone, who wasn’t a threat to your survival.
“Woah, ex-marines, huh? I don’t tell this to anyone, but I have a collection of guns at home
” you mentioned, trying to make light of the situation.
“That so?” Jung-bae remarked, his tone casual, as if discussing firearms was just another part of his day.
“Woah, that’s so cool! When did you start collecting?” Dae-ho chimed in with enthusiasm, genuinely interested.
“Let’s see... maybe when I was 19? That’s when I got introduced to shooting ranges, and that’s where my addiction started,” you replied with a nostalgic smile. The conversation felt like a brief escape from the madness of the games.
But then, just as quickly as it began, the conversation slowed. You couldn’t help but notice that, in the midst of it all, everyone was still acutely aware of the situation—life or death hung over every word. You looked up once more at the piggy bank. The money glinted in the low light, but it didn’t comfort you. It only served as a reminder of how far you had come and how much you had lost.
You stared at it for a while, lost in thought. The weight of everything—the game, the choices, the people who would never make it out—pressed down on you, and it was hard to escape the ache in your chest. Your mind wandered, consumed by memories and questions, as you stood frozen in place. Too engrossed in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice familiar black eyes fixed on you. In-ho watched your every move intently, shamelessly staring as you absentmindedly stared into oblivion. His gaze was steady, silently studying you from where he stood. But you were too lost in your thoughts to feel it. There was something about you, something he couldn’t quite place, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. It wasn’t the same as before—his cold indifference slowly shifting into something else he didn’t know how to name.
Maybe it was the way you carried yourself despite everything. Or maybe it was the faint sadness he saw in your eyes, something that mirrored his own. But as he continued to watch, something unfamiliar stirred inside him—an unsettling warmth that didn’t make sense, something that he thought he stopped feeling a long time ago. He quickly turned his attention away, pretending to focus on the group.
But that warmth lingered, an ache in his chest that refused to fade. What was it about you?
Hanni gave you a playful shove, snapping you out of your trance. Her bright smile flickered for a moment, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. You could feel her gaze linger on you, a slight shift in her expression that suggested she noticed something was off. You returned a hesitant smile, one that you hoped would mask the swirl of thoughts in your mind.
As the group huddled up, you quickly placed your hand on top of the pile, trying to shake off the discomfort despite the underlying tension. Hanni’s smile faded as she watched you, her eyes narrowing just slightly. Something in her seemed to pause, a flicker of doubt creeping into her gaze as if she was starting to see through the facade you were putting up.
It was as if she could tell that there was more to looks, something that wasn’t quite aligned with what you let on. But, instead of pressing, Hanni gave a soft shrug, her playful demeanor returning. Yet, the doubt lingered in her eyes, like she wasn’t fully convinced of the person she found comfort in.
"In one, two, three... Victory at all costs!" Hanni and Dae-ho shouted, their voice full of energy despite the dark atmosphere.
"Victory at all costs!"
"This time, the vote will begin with Player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote."
Young-il's gaze swept over the six of you, his eyes calm, but with an unwavering trust and determination in them. He nodded subtly at Gi-hun, as he began to move forward without hesitation. As he stepped up to cast his vote, you exchanged a brief, fleeting moment of eye contact with Young-il. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, but there was something else there too. You couldn't quite place it, but it made your chest tighten. The moment passed quickly, and you looked away, focusing on the task at hand.
When it was finally your time to vote, you felt the weight of everyone's eyes on you, but you didn’t allow yourself to meet anyone’s gaze. You couldn’t stomach the judgment, the disappointment that would be there. Instead, you stepped forward, heart pounding, and pressed the "O" button, committing to the choice you knew you had to make. A cold knot formed in your stomach as you did, but your mind remained focused. You weren’t about to back down now, no matter what the others thought.
As you turned and walked back to your side, you kept your head low, trying to hide the turmoil brewing inside. You heard some murmurs around you, a mix of disbelief and anger from your teammates, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. The guilt gnawed at you but so did the hope that this one last game would be enough. You glanced at the piggy bank hanging overhead, feeling the weight of the prize pool, but also the weight of your decision.
The voting ended with 140 votes for “O” and 117 for “X,” meaning the third game would proceed tomorrow. Some players cheered, relieved that they could move forward, while others were disappointed, worried for their survival. You stood frozen as the room around you buzzed with varying reactions. You could feel the stares of your team members who clearly weren’t happy with your decision. You couldn’t meet their eyes, couldn’t bear to see the betrayal there.
Jung-bae’s hand suddenly clapped on your shoulder, pulling you out of your reverie. You looked at him, searching his face for some sign of judgment. Your eyes went down and stared at the "O" patch on his tracksuit. His gaze was full of understanding, a silent comfort that you couldn’t quite put into words. He gave you a quick nod before turning his back, signaling the two of you to move forward, away from the team.
You ignored the whispers, and the betrayed looks from Dae-ho and Hanni. You couldn’t let it matter now. Call it selfish, call it greed, but 78 million won was not enough. Just one more game, and then maybe, just maybe you could end this.
Once the guard handed you your food, you took it mechanically, your hands numb as you walked back to your bed. You couldn’t face anyone—not Hanni, not Jun-hee, and especially not the ones who still believed in you. The weight of their disappointment was more than you could bear. Before you could even sit down, a loud voice called out for you.
"Hey! [Name]ya!" The sudden intrusion startled you. You turned, your heart racing in your chest, and saw Jun-hee and Hanni behind you. The former’s concern was written clearly across her face.
“Why?” she asked softly, her voice trembling.
You avoided her gaze, not trusting yourself to speak. “I... I have my reasons,” you said, your voice cracking just a little, even though you tried to sound convincing.
Hanni, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, muttered under her breath, "I hope it’s worth it." Her words were heavy with something you couldn’t quite define—was it disappointment? Concern? Either way, it cut deeper than you expected. You wanted to say something, anything, to make her understand, but you couldn’t. Not now. Not when everything felt so fragile.
Before you could open your mouth, two sets of hands grabbed each of your arms, forcing you to stand up. With a startled yelp, you asked, "What are you doing?" in a nervous tone. The two remained silent, their grip firm as they dragged you toward where the group was sitting. You quickly noticed that Jung-bae was also being pulled along by Dae-ho, confusion and tension radiating from him. It wasn’t until you reached the group that the weight of everyone’s gaze settled on you. You couldn’t escape the questioning looks from your teammates.
You and Jung-bae exchanged guilty glances before finally looking your teammates in the eye. “I
 I’m very sorry, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, Young-il,” you started. Jung-bae hesitated for a moment before following your lead, offering a quick bow. “I’m sorry too, Hanni, Jun-hee, Young-il
 Gi-hun, I’m sorry.”
When nobody acknowledged your apologies, Jung-bae went on to explain his reasoning, his voice faltering slightly. “You see, I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle my debt. So—”
“Jung-bae.” Young-il cut him off sharply. His tone was cold, his expression unreadable, as if disappointment weighed heavy on his words. “You of all people shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t righteous, not twice, not even once.”
The words stung more than Jung-bae expected, and the silence between them grew thick. Without waiting for Jung-bae to respond, Young-il turned to you, his gaze steady and searching. “And you,” he began, his voice quieter but no less firm, “You’ve made your own choice,” He continued, his voice measured, “but don’t try to justify it as something you had no control over.”
You looked at him one more time before looking down, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest, tightening your throat. Your mind raced, but there was no way to explain it—not to them, not to yourself.
“I know
” you whispered, the guilt rising like a tide, swallowing your words. “And I’m truly sorry
”
The sincerity in your apology felt hollow. You had made the decision. No one had forced you, but the pull of the money, of the chance to end it all, had made it feel like a necessity. And yet, as you stood there, with their disappointed gazes burning into you, it felt more like a betrayal than a choice.
“But looking at the results, even if you two voted against it, we would still have been outvoted,” Young-il said, his voice calm, like he had already made peace with it.
“Right? So it’s not really our fault,” Jung-bae added quickly, trying to make light of the situation.
Dae-ho, who had been quietly observing, scratched his head and gave Jung-bae a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Honestly, I get why you did it. Even for me, „78 million isn’t enough. So when I went to vote, I really thought about going for ‘O’ too.”
Hanni and Jun-hee didn’t say much. They nodded, agreeing in silence but not wanting to add anything more. Everyone was feeling the pressure. The reality of it all was sinking in too fast.
Jung-bae, still holding on to hope, added, “Next game, I promise. I’ll—”
“Next game?” Gi-hun’s voice cut through the air, sharp and honest. “Next game, we might have to kill each other.”
The room went still at his words. Everyone seemed to freeze. Gi-hun was right, and his words hit harder than anyone expected. No one spoke right away; the thought of what might happen in the next game was too much to face. The quiet grew heavy as the reality of what they were really up against settled in.
You opened your mouth to say something but stopped when Young-il spoke up. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. We all know there’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just stay focused. We need to eat, get ourselves together, and prepare for the next round.”
With that, he handed his milk carton to Jun-hee, saying he didn’t drink plain milk. Jung-bae did the same, offering his bread to Hanni, saying he didn’t deserve to eat. Everyone’s gestures, though small, felt like they were all trying to comfort each other in their own way, but it only made the situation more real.
Dae-ho, trying to lighten the mood, asked for Jung-bae's milk carton, but when the male shot him a glare, he stayed quiet, not wanting to argue.
A soft laugh slipped out of you, and without thinking, you handed your milk to Dae-ho. He immediately accepted it with a soft, grateful smile and mumbled a quiet thanks. 
You found yourself sitting next to Young-il, feeling more tired than you’d ever felt before, the mental and physical exhaustion had settled into your bones, dragging you down. The male was silent beside you, his presence heavy yet comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his gaze on you. It wasn’t intrusive, just there—steady, unyielding, like a silent support.
After a long silence, he spoke, his voice low and steady. “You did what you had to do.”
You blinked at him, not sure whether to be relieved or uncomfortable. “Did I?” you asked softly. “I voted to keep going. I went against you all. I wanted to believe it would be worth it, but I’m not sure anymore.”
“You can’t change it now,” he said, his tone gentle, almost comforting. “We all made our choices. It’s over. What matters now is what we do next.”
For a moment, you felt a knot in your chest loosen. He turned to you, his gaze unwavering, “You made a choice,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And no one else can tell you whether it was right or wrong.”
The simplicity of his words hung in the air. You couldn’t fix what had been done, but hearing those words from him somehow made it feel a little less like you were alone in your decision. The guilt that had gnawed at you seemed to quiet, even if just for a brief moment.
“Thanks,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. There was a quiet sincerity in it, more than you realized. It was the kind of reassurance you hadn’t known you were craving.
He nodded once, acknowledging your thanks with a slight tilt of his head. “Don’t mind what Gi-hun and I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice steady but softer now. “In a place like this, it’s hard not to be on edge. Everyone’s just trying to survive.”
You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. “Yeah
 I get it. It’s just hard to not feel like the bad guy sometimes.”
“You’re not,” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours for a moment before shifting away. “We all made our choices. Doesn’t make anyone better or worse. Just
 human.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, and before you knew it, the two of you had slipped into an easy conversation. It wasn’t much, shared observations about the others, light teasing about Dae-ho being comparable to a golden retriever, favorite movies and hobbies, but it felt like a break from the weight pressing down on you both.
At one point, you let out a genuine laugh, surprising even yourself. Young-il turned his head, his gaze curious as he asked, “What’s so funny?”
You shook your head, a small smile still lingering on your lips. “I don’t know,” you admitted, brushing a hand over your face as if to hide the slight flush there. “Maybe it’s just everything
 or nothing. Maybe I just needed to.”
He tilted his head, his expression softening slightly, though he still didn’t smile. “Laughing over nothing, huh? Guess there’s worse ways to handle this mess.”
“You should try it,” you said lightly, teasing just enough to test the waters.
He huffed, not quite a laugh but close, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe one day.”
For a little while, it was just the two of you, sharing quiet moments and fleeting bits of lightness in the shadow of everything else. The sound of quiet conversations and muted movements surrounded you, but it all felt distant, like you and Young-il existed in a world apart from everyone else. Eventually, the men began excusing themselves to head toward the bathroom. Young-il stayed seated a moment longer, his reluctance obvious in the way he lingered.
“You’re stalling,” you teased softly, a smile tugging at your lips.
He huffed, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I am.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Go. They’re waiting for you, and if you stay any longer Dae-ho might wet the floor.”
He chuckled. For a moment, he didn’t move, his gaze meeting yours. “Fine,” he said, shaking his head as he stood slowly, there was a flicker of something—playful or thoughtful, you couldn’t quite tell. As he walked away, you watched him join the others, the soft smile still lingering on your face.
Once the coast was clear, Hanni slid over almost immediately, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Jun-hee joined her just as quickly, both of them zeroing in on you like a pair of mischievous siblings ready to pounce. “You’re smiling,” Hanni said, a teasing tone lacing her words.
Jun-hee, tilted her head, her expression somewhere between amused and curious. “We’ve been with you since the first game and that’s not like you. Care to explain?”
You blinked, immediately feeling awkward. “Really? Now? In a place like this?”
Hanni leaned closer, her expression turning more playful. “C’mon, we’re not gonna bite. Just curious.”
With a chuckle, you let out a dramatic sigh before rubbing your temples. “This isn’t the time for that. We’re stuck in a death game, not a dating show.”
“So, what you’re saying is if we are in a dating show you would totally go for him?”
You raised an eyebrow at Hanni, a smirk tugging at your lips. "I never said that," you replied, shaking your head in disbelief.
Jun-hee joined in, her voice teasing but not unkind. “Come on, don’t play coy with us. You have to admit, something’s up.”
You let out a sigh, but this time it was more amused than anything. “You two are unbelievable.” You leaned back, trying to shift the mood. “Look, it’s not like that. We’re just
 having a conversation. It's not that deep.”
But they didn’t back off. Hanni gave you a knowing look, her eyes twinkling. “Having a conversation my ass! You’re out here giggling like a highschooler!”
“I do not!”
“Do too!”
You crossed your arms, trying to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “I’m not giggling, I’m just—” you paused, trying to find the right words, “I’m just
 enjoying the conversation, alright?”
Jun-hee leaned in, her eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “Uh-huh. Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help yourself from laughing again. “Just so you know, we’re stuck in a life-and-death situation, and I’m way past the age of having crushes and all that nonsense.”
Hanni leaned back with a satisfied grin, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Sure, whatever you say! We’ll let you off the hook for now, but don’t think we’ve forgotten.”
“You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. Despite the playful banter, the weight in your chest lightened. The tension between you all had shifted, and for the first time in a while, things didn’t feel so heavy. The teasing was light, comforting, and in the middle of everything that was going on, it was exactly what you needed.
You gave her a half-smile. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, are you?”
Jun-hee joined in with a gentle laugh. “Probably not. But it’s good to see you smile for once, even if we’re making fun of you.”
“You two are such troublemakers, you know that?”
Hanni shrugged innocently. “What can we say unnie? We just like seeing you flustered!”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. “Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Lights out in ten minutes. Please prepare for bedtime.”
Currently, you and the group were passing out mattresses, following Gi-hun’s insistence that all of you sleep on the floor together, huddled under one of the bed frames with someone keeping watch. While the rest of you questioned whether such precautions were necessary, none dared to speak up, not wanting to provoke Gi-hun’s temper.
As you handed a mattress to Dae-ho, who passed it to Jung-bae, the latter decided to voice what everyone else was thinking. “Hey, is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.”
Gi-hun didn’t look up as he smoothed a blanket onto the floor. “Once the lights go out, someone might attack us.”
That caught everyone’s attention. Kneeling down to sort through pillows and blankets, You, Dae-ho, Jun-hee and Hanni paused, curiosity piqued. “Why would anyone do that?” Dae-ho asked cautiously.
Gi-hun let out a humorless chuckle. “The prize money goes up every time someone dies. It’s part of the game they designed.”
You frowned, giving his words some thought. At first, his claim seemed far-fetched, but the more you considered the desperation you’d seen in yourself and in others—the way some eyes lingered too long on the prize board—it started to make an unsettling kind of sense.
“That’s insane,” Jung-bae muttered, shaking his head. “Nobody’s that cold. Nobody’s gonna—”
“Nope, Gi-hun is right. You shouldn’t be so sure,” you cut in, your tone sharper than usual. All eyes turned to you. “We’re lucky to have each other, but outside of this group? Desperation changes people. If someone thinks they have a better chance alone, or if they’re blinded by that kind of money, they won’t hesitate.”
Young-il narrowed his eyes at you, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “You’re saying we should expect someone to try and kill us tonight?”
You shrugged, your expression grim. “I’m saying we’d be stupid not to prepare for it.”
The weight of your words settled over the group like a heavy blanket. Even Hanni and Jun-hee, who usually tried to keep things light, exchanged uneasy glances. Gi-hun nodded as if your words confirmed everything he’d been thinking.
“Well,” Dae-ho said after a moment, his voice forced and upbeat, “at least we have each other, right?”
“Exactly,” Gi-hun said, setting down the last mattress. “We stick together, we’ll make it through. Now, everyone settle in. And keep your eyes open.”
Reluctantly, the group followed his lead, arranging themselves in a tight circle under the frame. You caught Young-il’s eye as he sat down across from you, his expression unreadable but his gaze steady.
Morning arrived faster than you expected, and soon, the guards were leading you to the next game.
The circular room you entered was unsettling. Bright, white walls surrounded a massive platform in the center, and atop it stood three eerie carousel horses, their painted eyes glossy and cold. Around the perimeter of the room were several doors, painted with plain colors.
You stared in quiet dread, trying to piece together what this setup might mean. The atmosphere was heavy, the air almost suffocating.
A light shove jolted you back to reality.
“You okay?”
Young-il stood beside you, his hand brushing your arm. His face, though calm, held a trace of worry as he took in your frozen stance.
“Stay close to me,” he said firmly. “And don’t freeze up now. I know it’s hard, but mistakes
” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Just don’t make any. Not here.”
You nodded, swallowing hard, and forced your legs to move as the guards directed everyone to the platform.
The rules were announced in the same monotone voice you’d grown to fear. This game wasn’t just a test of strength or skill—it was a race against time. Mingle. A game where players had to form groups according to the number that appeared and enter a room within 30 seconds. Failure to do so meant death.
The tension in the room became unbearable as the platform filled with nervous shuffling.
Hanni, standing beside you, clutched at your jacket with trembling hands. Her grip was tight and desperate, her pale face mirrored the fear you felt but tried to bury.
You placed a steadying hand over hers. “Stay close to us okay?” you murmured, glancing at her wide, frightened eyes. “We’ll figure this out.”
The platform began to spin, the movement disorienting as the room blurred around you. An eerie, childlike song played from unseen speakers, the melody jarring in its mockery of innocence.
Just as nausea began to creep in, the platform screeched to a halt.
12
Panic erupted immediately. Players screamed and shoved, desperate to find others to form a group.
“We need two more!”
“Who has five?”
Gi-hun moved quickly, scanning the chaos. He approached a nearby cluster of players, tapping one on the shoulder. “How many are you?”
“Four,” Player 120 replied.
“That makes us eleven,” Jung-bae said, pulling the rest of you closer into a huddle.
Before you could fully regroup, others swarmed around, shouting over one another in frantic bids for survival.
“Join us! We’re five!”
“No, come with us! We’re seven!”
The crowd was chaos. People were being pulled apart and dragged into groups as the countdown loomed. Hanni clung tighter to you, her breathing uneven. Suddenly, Player 120 ran off and dragged a woman toward your group. Her face was pale, and her steps stumbled as if she could barely keep up with the force pulling her forward.
“Here! This makes twelve!” Player 120 shouted, shoving the woman into your group before anyone could react.
“Come on,” you urged, grabbing Jun-hee and Hanni by the arms. “Let’s go. Stick close to me.”
Gi-hun directed your group to room 44. One by one, you made sure everyone got through the door, your eyes scanning for anyone falling behind. Once inside, Young-il slammed the door shut.
The locks clicked as the timer hit zero.
A chilling silence followed before the sound of gunfire tore through the room. Cries of desperation from players left behind filled the air, only to be abruptly silenced.
Hanni trembled violently, her hands covering her ears. You knelt beside her, brushing her hair back in an attempt to soothe her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” you said, though your own hands weren’t quite steady.
The tense quiet was broken by a sudden, sharp voice.
“You are all alive thanks to me!”
The outburst came from the woman 120 dragged, her wild eyes scanning the group. She began to approach Jun-hee with a strange intensity, her smile twisted and unsettling.
You immediately stepped in front of the girl, blocking her from view. Your movements were calm, but your heart pounded as the woman’s gaze landed on you instead.
She tilted her head, her smile widening. “There’s a reason you’ve lived this long,” she said, her tone cryptic. “A reason you were brought here.”
Her words hung heavy in the air as she looked past you, her focus shifting to Gi-hun.
Before she could say more, the announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, listing the eliminated players. The doors unlocked. Everyone returned to the platform.
Another round began.
4
All seven of you froze, exchanging frantic glances. The tension in the room was suffocating, everyone hyper-aware of the seconds slipping away.
"I'll find one more," you said abruptly, already moving before anyone could protest.
Gi-hun called after you, his voice strained with alarm, but you were already lost in the chaos.
"Wait—!" Hanni started to follow, but Gi-hun grabbed her arm.
"No!" she yelled, pulling against him. "You go! I’ll wait for [Name]-nim!"
"But—"
Young-il stepped in, placing a firm hand on Gi-hun’s shoulder. "Go, Gi-hun. She won’t move unless [Name] is back. I’ll stay with her."
Gi-hun hesitated, his jaw clenched. He looked between them and the dwindling time before nodding sharply. "Take care of them."
Without another word, he ushered Dae-ho, Jun-hee, and Jung-bae into a room. Once inside, Gi-hun hesitated to shut the room, opting to keep it open for a bit as he watched over your group.
Meanwhile, Young-il stayed by Hanni's side, his sharp gaze darting through the chaos, searching for any sign of you. The noise of panicked shouts and pounding footsteps filled the air, but he barely noticed. Instead, his attention was fixed on the spinning platform and the frenzied crowd.
Hanni clung to his arm, her small frame trembling against his. Her breaths came in short, uneven gasps, her grip tightening with each second that passed. Young-il glanced down at her, his usually stern expression softening for a moment.
"You’ll be okay," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm around them. He rested a hand lightly on her shoulder, giving her a firm yet gentle pat.
Hanni didn’t seem to hear him. Her lips moved in a near-silent mantra, repeating over and over, "Please come back. Please come back."
Her words hung heavy in the air, a fragile plea against the backdrop of chaos. Young-il’s jaw tightened as he turned his focus back to the crowd. He had to believe you would return, not just for Hanni's sake—but for all of theirs.
Inside the room, Dae-ho’s voice broke the silence. "Will they make it?" he asked, his tone trembling. Gi-hun didn’t respond, his gaze fixed outside, searching for any sign of you. With ten seconds left, hope began to waver—until a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Hey! I found someone! Let’s go!"
Bursting into sight, you ran towards an empty room with Player 256 in tow. Without hesitation, you grabbed Young-il’s outstretched hand, pulling everyone toward the door. The locks clicked shut just as the timer hit zero.
Inside, your legs gave out, but before you hit the ground, you felt a strong pair of arms catch you. Young-il steadied you, his worried face inches from yours.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.
You nodded quickly, pulling yourself upright. "Thanks," you said, flashing a weak smile before turning to Player 256, who looked pale and shaken.
"Are you alright? Sorry for dragging you like that. I just saw you on the floor and didn’t think twice."
The young man gave you a pained smile, his breaths still uneven. "I’m fine. Thank you—really. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead."
You patted his shoulder gently, suppressing a sigh. "What’s with young people getting into so much debt these days?"
Before you could say more, a small figure collided with you, wrapping their arms tightly around your waist.
"Don’t ever leave me again, unnie." Hanni sobbed, her voice muffled against your shirt. Warm tears soaked through the fabric as she clung to you.
Your heart twisted at her desperation. "I can’t promise you that, Hanni. But Jun-hee’s always there when I’m not okay?" you murmured, gently running your hand through her hair, trying to soothe her.
Her grip on you loosened a little, but her wide eyes stayed locked on you. “I know
 but I still need you two with me,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of that same hope she always had.
You gave her a soft smile, brushing away a tear that had fallen down her cheek. “We’re not going anywhere,” you said, holding her just a little tighter.
The announcer’s voice suddenly boomed through the speakers, listing the names of the eliminated players. The stark reminder of the game’s stakes sent a chill through the room.
As the list ended, you glanced toward Young-il. His eyes betrayed the fear he had been holding back, relief washing over his face as he met your gaze. For a brief moment, it felt like the world had paused, the chaos outside fading into the background.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He gave a small nod, his lips pressed into a thin line.
The sound of the doors unlocking snapped you both back to reality. Player 256 bowed deeply to you before sprinting off, murmuring another hurried "thank you" as he disappeared into the crowd.
Taking Hanni’s hand, you and Young-il moved quickly to find the rest of your group. Voices called your names, and you followed the sound until you spotted them.
"There they are!" Jung-bae shouted, relief evident in his tone.
Young-il barely had time to react before Jung-bae threw his arms around him in a tight hug. Meanwhile, Jun-hee rushed toward you and Hanni.
The three of you broke into a tangle of hugs, clutching each other tightly, the fear and relief of survival intertwining in an unspoken bond.
“I knew you were gonna be okay!” Jung-bae exclaimed in relief, pulling Young-il into a tight hug. Jun-hee did the same with you, and you returned the hug, pressing a few affectionate forehead kisses on her before patting her head gently. Gi-hun looked at you and Young-il, his face breaking into a relieved smile. “I was so worried. I’m glad you all made it.”
“Luckily, [Name] found someone in time. If she stayed with us a little longer, she might’ve had a hard time,” Young-il chuckled, praising you.
You laughed, shaking your head. “If anything, I was lucky. I found the guy on the ground. I hope he’s okay.”
The two of you then turned to Jun-hee, asking if she was alright. She reassured you, telling you how glad she was that the three of you came back safely.
“Wait a minute.” Young-il’s voice cut through the conversation. Suddenly, all eyes were on him. “If the next number is eighth, then we won’t need anyone else, right?”
Everyone looked at him with confused expressions. “Why?” Dae-ho asked, genuinely curious. Young-il didn’t respond immediately; instead, he just nodded, thinking.
Jung-bae snapped his fingers, pointing at Jun-hee’s stomach. “Ah, it’s in her tummy.”
A sudden realization spread across Dae-ho’s face as he finally understood. “Ohh, that’s right. That makes eight.” The group shared a lighthearted laugh, while Hanni rolled her eyes, quietly laughing to herself. She muttered something about how corny the joke was. You couldn’t help but laugh, pinching her cheek and telling her to just go with the flow.
“What if it’s twins? Triplets?” you joked.
Amid the laughter, a pair of lingering eyes belonging to Player 333 was watching the group with an unreadable look on his face.
The atmosphere shifted slightly before you were all instructed to return to the platform. The tension in the air was palpable. Another round started.
3
“You three, go–” Gi-hun began, but Young-il cut him off.
“No. I’ll go. You stay with them.”
You all looked at him in surprise, not wanting to leave him behind. However, there was no time to waste. With a determined nod, you immediately grabbed Jun-hee and Hanni before running toward the nearest room. Gi-hun, Jung-bae, and Dae-ho followed closely behind, while Young-il ran off to find two other players.
You three finally approached the only vacant room near you. As you opened it, your blood ran cold. A figure was curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, its stillness unnerving— as if they had already given up already. You glanced at the timer—20 seconds. Your heart raced. Grabbing Jun-hee and Hanni’s arms, you yelled for the curled up figure.
"Hey!" you shouted. The person stirred and looked up at you, confusion in their eyes. You raised the arms you were holding, signaling clearly. The person understood, standing up and moving toward the door. You pushed Jun-hee and Hanni toward the player, making sure they would be safe with her. Once inside, Player 380 quickly closed the door. As you ran away, you heard their voices calling out to you.
“Hey unnie! Come back!”
“[Name]nim!”
You cursed your heart for being soft and getting attached, you cursed your mind for wanting to be a hero. With 13 seconds left, you turned and ran as fast as you could, hoping to find a room, or maybe even Young-il.
10 seconds.
You frantically scanned the area, but there was almost nothing. No sign of Young-il. No sign of anyone else making their way to a room. No group of two finding their last member.
8 seconds.
Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed your arm. You were shocked but didn’t hesitate. You had no time for hesitation now. You kept your pace, determined to survive.
6 seconds.
You spotted someone standing idly, diagonally to you. Wasting no time, you shouted to them. Together, you ran toward the person, desperate to find the last empty room.
4 seconds.
The two of you reached her and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her toward the nearest open door.
2 seconds.
The three of you rushed inside.
1 second.
The doors slammed shut behind you.
The timer rang. 0 seconds.
Back in room 27, Hanni and Jun-hee peeked anxiously through the window, watching the chaos unfold outside. As the announcer listed the eliminated players, they held their breath, waiting. The second your number wasn’t called, they exhaled in relief.
Inside your room, you collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. This was the consequence of playing the hero. You were too old for this, yet here you were again, caught in the madness. Once your breath steadied, you looked at the player you had dragged in. You froze in shock. It was Player 149—the mother of Player 007. The two were peas in a pod, but you hoped nothing bad would happen now that they were separated.
Deciding not to disturb her, you let her have some space and turned to the person who had saved you. Standing up, you immediately bowed in their direction. When they didn’t make a sound or movement, you slowly lifted your head.
To your shock, you were met with Young-il’s face.
Your shocked face clashed with his angry one, but before you could process it, you leapt at him and wrapped him in a tight, warm hug. His initial surprise faded as he returned the embrace, his anger melting away. As he gently patted your hair, he quietly asked, “What happened?”
“The room we entered was already filled with someone. I wanted to stay with Jun-hee and Hanni, but there were no more rooms nearby. I couldn’t let Jun-hee run anymore, so I left them there and ran,” you explained, your voice muffled against his shirt.
He patted your head again before slightly pushing you away to look at your face. Still holding you, the two of you locked eyes. “You’re lucky I was there to save you like a superhero.”
“Yeah,” you chuckled, “Thanks, superhero.”
You gave him a sweet smile before pulling away and knelt in front of the older woman. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
She snapped out of her thoughts and bowed, immediately responding, “Yes, yes. I am. Thank you so much for saving me.”
“Where’s your son?”
“Sorry?”
“Weren’t you with him?” Young-il asked, his concern growing for their safety. You watched her closely, hoping nothing bad had happened. Her eyes bounced between you and Young-il as she tried to formulate an answer. “Oh, well, I lost him. He told me to wait while he brought one more person, but in all the chaos, I lost him.”
“He didn’t come back?” Young-il’s question made her stand up abruptly.
“My son isn’t that kind of person!” she said, standing defensively. “We may be poor, but he has a good heart. He’d rather be bullied than hurt another person. He’ll never harm anyone, so watch what you say about him!”
You stood up quickly and gently placed your hands on her shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “Ah, it’s nothing like that, ma’am. It’s just that the two of you have been together from the start, so we were worried when we saw you alone. We didn’t mean to upset you.”
She looked at you for a moment before averting her gaze, calming down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” Young-il added, apologizing as well.
The doors opened then, signaling it was time to move on. With a bow, you grabbed Young-il’s hand, pulling him toward Jun-hee and Hanni’s room. When you saw the two of them, your eyes met, and without hesitation, you let go of Young-il’s hand and hugged them both tightly. You whispered your apologies as they cried into your neck. Young-il watched the scene with a bittersweet smile, the sight of you and the others reminding him painfully of his late wife. It felt like a love he could never return to, yet he couldn't look away.
Once they stopped crying, you gently pulled away and pointed them toward Young-il. Without hesitation, they ran to him, wrapping their arms around him and thanking him.
The four of you then returned to the platform, where you met the rest of your group. A silent understanding passed between your team and player 120’s team, as you all stood next to each other, ready for the next round. The music started. The platform began to rotate. 
6
“Three women and three men, go!” Gi-hun shouted. Luckily, you all had enough members so only finding the room was the problem, Jun-hee and Hanni stuck close to you as you followed Young-il, Gi-hun, and Jung-bae to a room. 
When you returned to the platform, you immediately noticed the lonely figure of player 120, with player 095 nowhere near, you assumed the worst. Standing close next to her, you offer comfort by rubbing her back. “It’s gonna be hard but please stay strong, she now lives through you.” She gives you a pained nod as you placed yourself between Hanni and Young-il. 
“What do you think will be the next number?” Jung-bae asked you all.
It was quiet for a moment as everyone contemplated the answer. Without hesitation, Hanni spoke up. "Two."
Gi-hun looked at her, silently asking her to explain her answer. Instead of her, Young-il’s voice broke through the tension. "Yeah, she's correct. It's two. There are 50 rooms, and 156 people are still alive. Everyone will have a pair, but there won't be enough rooms. That's how they conduct these games."
Everyone else looked at him, some expressions confused, others with a hint of surprise, as if they hadn’t expected him to be the one explaining. And they were right.
2
The group stood in silence for a second, each person wondering who would pair with whom. The fear of the rooms being occupied quickly spread so without a second thought, Young-il grabbed your hand and hurried you away. Hanni called your name, and the others followed suit. Dae-ho grabbed Hanni, Jung-bae grabbed Gi-hun, and Player 333 grabbed Jun-hee as they all ran to secure an empty room.
You and Young-il reached the open door of an empty room, but before you could step inside, another player tackled you to the ground. As Young-il rushed to help you up, the player bolted for the room you had been eyeing. Without hesitation, Young-il grabbed the man, yanking him away and throwing him outside with unexpected force.
"Go in!" Young-il shouted at you, as he held the player in his grip.
Your heart was racing, adrenaline flooding your system. You scrambled to recover and quickly glanced around, making sure the coast was clear. With urgency, you rushed inside, positioning yourself near the door, ready to barricade it in case someone tried to steal the room from you. You signaled for Young-il to come in, and as he rushed in after you, you slammed the door behind him, using your body to hold it shut while the player left outside shouted curses at you.
Suddenly, Young-il pulled you into his arms, his hands gentle but firm, as he placed your head against his shoulder. You melted into him, the brief respite giving you both a moment of peace. But that moment quickly shattered when your eyes caught a figure in the corner of the room.
Your breath hitched. In a panic, you pushed away from Young-il and shouted at the figure, your voice trembling, "Leave! Get out!"
The timer was ticking down, and every second felt like an eternity. Panic surged within you as you watched the figure not move—your heart raced. The seconds were slipping away.
12 seconds.
"No way, we got here first," the man argued, his voice laced with defiance.
“Well your partner is not here isn’t he?! Get out!”  you demanded, your voice firm despite the tension.
11 seconds.
“Shut your tramp whore! We got here first! Make yourself useful and get out of the room!” he spat back, growing angrier.
10 seconds.
Without a word, Young-il lunged at the man, grabbing him by the throat and forcing him toward the door, his strength overpowering the man’s resistance. You watched in horror, your eyes flickering between the timer and the brutal scene unfolding before you. With only three seconds left and the man still struggling. Young-il didn’t hesitate. His actions were swift and decisive, final and cold. With one swift move, the room fell silent, and the door locked.
0 seconds.
Young-il stood over the lifeless man, his face distant, his expression hollow. It was a look that didn’t belong on him. In the short time you’d known him, he’d always had this warm, protective energy, this quiet tenderness that made you feel safe. But now, his usual caring nature seemed clouded by something else.
Without thinking, you crossed the room to him, gently taking his hands in yours. You could feel his tension, his unwillingness to meet your gaze. Your heart ached to see him like this, and you whispered softly, “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” his voice barely above a whisper, as though he was apologizing for something you hadn’t even asked him to do.
“What for?” you asked, trying to meet his gaze. He avoided it, looking down at the body in the room, his face shadowed with regret.
“You did what you had to do, Young-il. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here. We’d be dead. So, thank you.” You squeezed his hands, trying to convey the depth of your gratitude, even if the words felt too small.
“But—” he started, voice faltering.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” You could feel his fear—fear that you might look at him differently now. You could see it in his eyes, that vulnerability he tried to hide. You slowly reached up, your hand finding his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting. His eyes closed as he leaned into it, the tension melting from his body for just a moment. "Murder is something I’m used to, Young-il. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine
 as long as you’re here."
The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken words. The closeness, the way your fingers lingered on his skin, the way your breaths synced together—it felt like everything was leading to this moment. Slowly, instinctively, you both leaned in, drawn to each other like magnets.
But just as your lips were about to meet, the loud sound of the doors unlocking shattered the moment. You both froze, hearts pounding in your chests, reality crashing back in. You pulled away quickly, your face flushing with embarrassment.
You stepped back, flustered, and gave a quick bow, mumbling, “I—I should check on Hanni and Jun-hee.” You turned to leave, nearly tripping over your shoes in the rush. That shared moment lingered in the air, and even as you fled, your heart still raced with what almost happened, you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on your back, the connection between you stronger than ever.
After the third game, you found yourself back in the fort Gi-hun had organized. The group was scattered, tending to their own thoughts or conversations. Across the room, Jun-hee was deep in conversation with Player 333, the man you now knew was her ex-fiancé—the one who’d abandoned her. Hanni stood by your side, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern as the two exchanged words that seemed both loaded and cautious.
Meanwhile, Gi-hun instructed the others to count the remaining players and determine how many wanted to continue playing.
“There are 55 players who voted in favor of continuing,” Jung-bae reported as he returned.
“Are you sure?” Gi-hun asked, his voice tense.
“I counted twice.”
Dae-ho pointed to the “O” patch on Jung-bae’s uniform. “Did you count yourself?”
Jung-bae glanced at the “O” patch on his chest, pausing before muttering, “Fifty-six.”
“Fifty-seven,” you added, raising your hand while still keeping an eye on Jun-hee and her conversation.
Dae-ho exhaled heavily, frustration evident. “We have forty-five on our side. We’re outnumbered by twelve.”
The weight of the statement settled over the group like a cloud of despair.
Young-il stood up, breaking the silence. “It may seem like a big gap, but if six of them change their minds, it’s tied. Seven, and we win.”
“But what if some of the X votes switch to O?” Dae-ho countered.
“They likely won’t,” Young-il replied evenly. “Those who voted X wanted out even when the prize was smaller. Now they can leave with even more money. Why risk their lives again?”
You joined in. “Me, and Jung-bae will definitely vote X. That’s two already. If four more switch sides, it’s a tie. Five more, and we win.”
Gi-hun nodded decisively. “Then let’s go try to convince them.” 
“No,” Young-il said firmly. “That’s too risky. Most of them want to continue playing. If we start making moves, they won’t sit back and let us sway their votes.”
Gi-hun’s frustration boiled over. “So we just stand here and pray they change their minds? What if we lose again? Are we supposed to march into another game like sheep?”
Hanni hesitated before speaking, her voice soft but steady. “Gi-hunnim, I don’t think it’s wise to provoke them. They might do the same to us, and they have the upper hand. People are here for money. If we start something, it could lead to a fight before we even vote.”
Her words calmed the rising tension, and the group fell into silence as guards entered the room, signaling the start of the next vote.
After the third game, only 100 players remained. The prize money now totaled 35.6 billion won, meaning each player will earn 356 million won if they would go home now. Jung-bae approached Gi-hun, his face grim yet determined. “With that kind of money,” he began, his voice low but certain, “some might change their minds. If we can convince six more people to vote X, we’ll tie. Seven, and we win.” His words hung in the air, filling the room with a fragile sense of hope.
The guards soon interrupted, announcing that the voting would proceed in reverse order of player numbers. The tension thickened as Gi-hun approached the booth, the echo of his footsteps amplifying the silence. “Player 456, please cast your vote,” one guard intoned, his monotone voice chilling in its detachment.
One by one, players approached the booth, many clinging to their original decisions. The scoreboard slowly reflected the changes. When it was Jung-bae’s turn, he strode forward with purpose, slamming his hand on the X button. As he returned to Gi-hun’s side, he showed off his X patch and declared, “Seven more to win,” his voice carrying the first flicker of confidence the group had heard in hours.
Player 380 voted X. Relief swept through your group—six more to go.
Player 185. X. Five more.
Your turn came, and you didn’t hesitate. X. Four more.
Player 125. X. Three.
Player 120 followed, then Player 015. Each X vote brought you closer to the tie. When Player 007 slammed the X button, he shouted, “Let’s go home!” and tore off his O patch triumphantly.
“That’s seven!” Jung-bae yelled, grinning in excitement. “We did it!”
The celebration was short-lived. The next player, an elderly woman, calmly voted O. The room fell silent as her choice appeared on the scoreboard: 49 for X, 50 for O.
Everyone turned toward the last player, Player 001. The atmosphere shifted, the tension nearly suffocating. The air felt heavy with anticipation as he slowly made his way to the booth. Young-il’s slow steps toward the voting booth felt endless. Every step seemed deliberate, as though he were savoring the weight of the moment.
Hanni, looking at Young-il, quietly gripped Jun-hee’s arm, her face pale. “What’s wrong?” Jun-hee asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.
Hanni hesitated before speaking, her words barely audible. “Young-ilnim... he scares me sometimes.”
Jun-hee frowned. “Why? Did something happen?”
“When we were waiting for [Name]nim during the third game, I thought I saw him making eye contact with the guards,” Hanni murmured. “It was like... like they knew him. I don’t know, maybe I imagined it, but it didn’t feel right.”
Jun-hee’s brows furrowed, her protective instincts kicking in. “We should tell [Name]nim.”
“No!” Hanni shook her head rapidly. “I don’t want to ruin what they have. [Name]nim deserves to be happy. If I’m wrong, I don’t want to mess things up.”
Jun-hee looked at her with a mix of worry and understanding, her hand coming to rest on Hanni’s shoulder. Before either could say more, the sharp sound of Player 001’s vote echoed through the room.
X.
A stunned silence followed before the scoreboard updated, displaying an even 50 for X and 50 for O. Young-il turned to the group, a smile on his face as he raised his hand in an okay sign. Your side erupted into quiet cheers, exchanging looks of disbelief and relief.
“It’s a tie. We did it!” Dae-ho exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders in excitement. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking him back as a rush of emotion coursed through you.
Relief swept through the room, but a palpable tension lingered as everyone waited to hear the outcome of the tie.
"Wait, since it’s a tie, what does it mean?" Player 100 asked.
The guard responded flatly, "Clause Three: If the voting ends in a tie, players will vote again. To give you time to think, the vote will be conducted tomorrow." He glanced around the room, his gaze cold and impassive. "Until then, please consider your future carefully."
As dinner commenced, your team welcomed new members—Players 120, 149, 007, and 246. The mood was a bit lighter, though tinged with underlying anxiety. Small talk carried the group through the meal, with some making half-hearted jokes to distract from the harsh reality of their situation.
“I’m surprised by the food today,” Hanni remarked, biting eagerly into her roll of gimbap. “I thought it would be bread and milk until the end.” You gently nudged her to slow down, worried she might choke.
Jun-hee, chewing thoughtfully, leaned closer to Hanni. “I was so scared earlier, especially with Young-ilnim. I thought for sure he’d vote O like the first time.” She hesitated, then whispered, “Hey, we really should tell her—”
“Tell me what?” you interjected, raising a brow.
“N-nothing!” Hanni stammered, her cheeks coloring as she avoided your gaze.
“Hmm, I’m watching you two,” you teased, making a gesture before turning your attention to Dae-ho, who was animatedly chatting with Jung-bae.
“I really thought you were going to vote O, like on day one,” Dae-ho admitted, glancing at Young-il. Jung-bae, clearly done with the male's rambling, stuffed a piece of gimbap into his mouth before addressing Young-il directly. “Thank you, Young-il. You gave us another chance.”
Young-il shook his head slightly, his expression neutral. “I just want to stay alive. The money’s enough now, so I need to get out of here. Alive.” His eyes flickered briefly to Gi-hun as he emphasized the last word, the intensity of his gaze sending a chill through the group.
The moment was interrupted by Player 246, who spoke up, his voice laced with apprehension. “Do you think we’ll be able to win the second vote?”
Reality hit like a blow, extinguishing the fragile flicker of hope that had momentarily lit the group. A somber silence followed until Young-il broke it. “We’ll have to go for broke,” he said, his tone measured but firm. “Like Gi-hun said earlier, we should try to convince some of them to change their minds before the second vote.”
“Will they, though?” Player 007 asked, his skepticism clear. “Most of them are blinded by the money now.”
“My son,” his mother chimed in with an oddly cheerful tone, “When you’re hungry, you start to miss home. All we have is this good roll of gimbap, and everyone will feel the pangs of hunger tomorrow.” Her logic was far-fetched, but no one dared contradict her.
007 stood and tried to address the opposing team, using the oll of gimbap as leverage. However, instead of having the result he expected to get, he got the total opposite. The men shouted over each other, their voices rising to a chaotic crescendo. Gi-hun, visibly conflicted, stared at his gimbap before unrolling it. Inside was a fork, its sharp prongs gleaming ominously. A weapon.
Unbeknownst to most, a fight had broken out in the bathroom. The announcement of eliminated players startled everyone into silence. Gasps and murmurs filled the room as the piggy bank suddenly rang. With 95 players remaining, the prize money now stood at 36.1 billion won, increasing each player’s worth to 380 million won.
“What’s happening?” Jung-bae whispered, his voice trembling with unease. His question hung unanswered as the bathroom doors opened. Players emerged, bloodied and bruised, their faces marked by fear and rage.
Player 124 from Team O stumbled into the middle of the room, his voice shaking with anger. “Listen, Team O!” he shouted. “When we were in the bathroom, these X bastards tried to kill us! They killed some of us, including my friend—”
“Bullshit!” Player 047 from Team X shouted back, cutting him off. “You’re the ones who started it!” He gestured toward where Team X sat, his voice rising with fury. “They threatened one of our people! They attacked us to win the second vote!”
The room erupted in chaos. People were shouting, pointing fingers, and some even started pushing and shoving. The tension in the air was thick, and it felt like everyone was on edge, afraid of what might happen next. You could feel the anxiety creeping in as everyone seemed to turn on each other.
In the midst of the chaos, Player 100 quickly rounded up the O team, ordering a headcount. Player 047 did the same with the X team, trying to keep control. The numbers were close, with 47 players on the O team and 48 on the X team. The X team now had the advantage in the voting.
“Two people died on our side,” Player 047 said, sitting down. “That means we lost three, and now they have the upper hand.” A player on their team pointed out, “We still have a better chance. We’re one vote ahead now.”
Jung-bae, trying to stay positive, spoke up. “As long as we don’t change our minds, we’ll win by one vote tomorrow.” The room quieted down as everyone whispered amongst themselves, the weight of the upcoming vote heavy on their minds.
Suddenly, the announcement broke the silence. “Attention, please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime.”
Player 047 stood up, trying to rally his team. “Listen, no one can change their mind, okay? We’ll win tomorrow. Stay strong, we’ll make it through.” His words were filled with determination, and the room filled with a low hum of agreement from his team.
Once everyone started to settle down, Dae-ho leaned in, speaking in a low voice to your group. “Those guys are acting really suspicious. They’re planning something, I can feel it.”
Jung-bae, not paying much attention to the others, just waved him off. “Whatever. Once we win tomorrow’s vote, it’ll all be over.” He sounded confident, but you could tell he was just trying to keep the morale up.
You turned your gaze to Gi-hun, his face unreadable. You knew he was thinking about the situation carefully. After everything that had happened, you weren’t sure what he was planning. But something about the way the O team had been looking at you all, with a certain malice in their eyes, told you that there was more to this than just a vote.
Finally, Gi-hun spoke, his voice calm but filled with tension. “Once the lights go out, they’ll attack us.” The group went silent at his words, the weight of his statement sinking in. 007’s eyes widened in disbelief as he asked, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” You replied this time, everyone looked at you waiting for your explanation. “These people, they didn’t vote O because they wanted to play. They voted O to get more money. And now that they know killing increases the prize, they’ll do whatever it takes to do it.” 
Young-il, who had been quiet up until now, spoke up. “Then we should attack first. We need to take them by surprise.” His suggestion was met with agreement from Player 047, who nodded, adding, “We have the women and elderly on our side. If they attack first, we’ll be at a huge disadvantage.”
But Gi-hun wasn’t on board with the idea. “No. We can’t start a fight like that.” Everyone looked at him, confused. “We need to stay calm. If we kill each other, that’s exactly what they want.”
Jung-bae frowned, clearly not understanding. “Who are they? Who are you talking about?”
“The makers of the game,” Gi-hun said bitterly, his eyes burning with anger. “They’re the ones who want us to kill each other. They’re watching us right now.”
The room fell silent as the others absorbed this revelation. You felt a chill run down your spine. “Where are they?” Dae-ho asked, his voice tight. You could hear the fear in his words, even if he was trying to hide it.
Gi-hun didn’t flinch. He simply looked up at the ceiling, his gaze steady. “Up there,” He murmured, his voice barely audible but filled with conviction. Slowly, everyone looked up at the ceiling, following his gaze. Gi-hun’s eyes were fixed on the higher levels. “The control rooms are above us. Their leader wears a black mask. If we capture him, we’ll have leverage.”
Young-il’s skepticism was evident. “How are you going to fight them? They’ve got guns.”
“We’ll take their guns,” Gi-hun answered plainly, locking eyes with Young-il. His words weren’t a suggestion—they were a plan.
“From the masked men?” Player 246 asked, his voice filled with disbelief.
Gi-hun nodded resolutely. “Yes. We’ll catch them off guard. They won’t expect it.”
“That’s too dangerous,” Young-il said, shaking his head. “Even if we manage to steal their guns, we’ll be outnumbered.”
Gi-hun’s eyes hardened. “What’s your plan, then? Sit around and wait to die? Watch as they pick us off, one by one? Is that your idea of survival?” His voice was harsh, the desperation in his words cutting through the tension.
The silence that followed was thick, as everyone contemplated the harsh reality they faced.
120 spoke up, her voice uncertain but full of fear. “Do we even stand a chance?”
“We do,” Gi-hun said, his voice unwavering. “If we strike first, we catch them off guard. They’ll never see it coming. The people running this game think we’re powerless, but we have the upper hand now. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all.”
“How do you plan to take their guns?” Young-il asked again, his skepticism still evident.
Gi-hun didn’t hesitate, as if he had already thought it through.  “Once the lights go out, we’ll have our chance.”
Lights out in 5 minutes.
As everyone made their way to their beds, Jun-hee excused herself, telling you she needed to talk to someone. You offered to go with her, but she waved you off, saying she’d be quick.
You turned to Hanni, who had a distant, absent look in her eyes. She wasn’t fully there, trapped in her own thoughts. You rubbed her back gently to snap her out of it. Poor Hanni. She was so young, and she didn’t deserve any of this. She shouldn’t have been thrown into this nightmare.
She deserved a future, a chance to grow and live, not this. It pained you to see her face filled with confusion and fear. There was so much darkness surrounding her, and she was so small, so vulnerable. It made your heart heavy.
“Stick close to me, okay?” you whispered, your voice soft but firm as you brushed her hair behind her ear. “If you can’t find me, go to Jun-hee, okay?”
Hanni nodded, but her expression didn’t fully match her words. You could see the uncertainty in her eyes. You gave her a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead, trying to offer what little comfort you could. Rocking her gently, you tucked her in, smoothing the blanket around her, and gave her one last kiss before heading to your own bed.
Lights out in 10.
The countdown echoed. You lay down, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. The seconds felt like hours.
9. What if this is the night? The thought couldn’t help but cross your mind, but you pushed it aside. You couldn’t afford to think that way now. You had to stay focused.
8.
7. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was almost deafening, the pressure of the countdown like a vice around your chest.
6.
5. Keep it together. You told yourself. Focus. You had to be ready.
4. You thought about Hanni, about Jun-hee. What would happen to them if you didn’t make it? The thought alone made your chest tighten.
3. You forcefully removed them from your thoughts. This was not the time to think about them, they'll be fine, they'll be safe. They'll get out of here alive.
2. The darkness was getting closer. The room was quiet, but you could feel the tension, the electricity in the air. Everyone was waiting, bracing themselves.
1.
The lights flickered and then went off, plunging the room into darkness. Your mind immediately went to Gi-hun’s words: Once the lights go out, get under the bottom beds quickly. You must not get caught by those planning to attack us.
It was quiet.
Then it was loud.
The sounds of screams and footsteps filling the air as people were attacked and killed left and right. You could hear the unmistakable sounds of struggles, the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground. Panic rippled through the room. You prayed silently, hoping that Young-il, Hanni, Jun-hee, and everyone else would make it through the night. You clung to the hope that you would survive, that you wouldn’t be one of the unlucky ones who wouldn’t make it to the morning.
After minutes of waiting, the sound of doors opening signaled the end of the wait. You immediately crawled out from under the bottom bed following phase 2 of Gi-hun's plan.
Playing dead, you stayed as still as possible, listening for the guard’s footsteps. When you heard one approach, you tensed. As the guard scanned your ID, you reached out and grabbed them, pulling them into a headlock. They struggled, fighting to break free, but you tightened your grip, whispering a soft apology. With one swift movement, you snapped their neck. The familiar crack echoed in your ears. Without hesitation, you grabbed their gun, firing at nearby guards, taking them down one by one.
Quickly, you crawled under another bed, planning your next move. The guards on the upper beds were your next target. You fired a shot at an unsuspecting guard, laughing quietly as they looked around, confused. Before they could react, you shot again, taking them out.
From bed to bed, you moved stealthily, inching closer to the stage. Hidden in the shadows, you waited, watching the guards’ every move. You knew patience was key—waiting until they were close enough. When the retreat announcement echoed through the room, you sprang into action. Leaping from your hiding spot, you unleashed a spray of bullets, taking down the remaining guards one by one. Even as they tried to retreat into the gate, you kept firing, not giving them a chance to escape.
But just as the last guard made it to the gate, you pulled the trigger, only to hear a click. You were out of bullets. Panic surged through you. You needed to reload, but before you could, you heard Gi-hun shout, "Hold fire!" You stopped, nodding as you obeyed his command.
Jung-bae and Player 246 rushed forward and forced the last guard to his knees, making him raise his hands in surrender. Slinging your empty gun over your shoulder, you quickly ran to the back, where Hanni and Jun-hee were waiting for you.
“Unnie!” Hanni whispered-yelled as you came into view, her eyes lighting up in relief. Jun-hee was right behind her, giving you a big smile and waving you over with an expression full of warmth. You didn’t hesitate, pulling both of them into a tight hug. The moment felt comforting, but the danger still lingered in the air. You held their faces gently, searching for any signs of injury.
“Are you both hurt?” you asked, voice steady but filled with concern.
In the background, you could hear Gi-hun telling everyone to come out, reassuring them that you wouldn’t hurt them. His voice was low but commanding, a sense of authority settling over the group.
Jun-hee and Hanni shook their heads before telling you they were okay. You exhaled softly, a sigh of relief escaping you as the weight in your chest lifted slightly. You gave them a small smile.
“When you mentioned collecting guns and gunmanship, I really thought you meant some online FPS game,” Hanni said, trying to lighten the mood, a playful glint in her eyes. You chuckled, shaking your head.
“Really now? Well, I might be old, but not that old. I’m still strong enough to do these things,” you said, flexing your arms with an exaggerated grunt. Your muscles were hardly impressive, but the action was enough to make the three of you laugh. It felt good—too good for the situation you were all in.
You continued to smile as the laughter settled, but your thoughts flickered back to the reality. “Alright, you two, go ahead. I’ll catch up with you soon. I need to collect the guns and ammo from the guards first,” you said, your tone firm but affectionate. You ushered them toward the center before you set about your task.
As you moved toward the fallen guards, your hands quickly went to work, collecting the weapons and ammo. You moved with precision, and were so in the zone that you barely noticed a figure following you.
“Are you alright?”
A sharp breath caught in your throat as you jerked your head toward the sound. In an instant, your fingers gripped the handle of your gun, and you pointed it at the source of the voice. When you saw who it was, your tension loosened, but only slightly. Your breath came out in a shaky exhale as you lowered the gun.
“Young-il, you scared me!” you said, pressing a hand to your chest, heart still racing from the sudden scare.
“Ah? That so?” he replied, a small, teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m very sorry then.”
“Oh, shut up. That’s not the look of someone who’s sorry,” you shot back, though a smile tugged at your own lips.
The two of you shared a brief laugh before the tension in your bodies dissipated enough for you to focus on the task at hand again. “Help me out with these, will you?” you asked, gesturing to the weapons scattered on the ground. He didn’t hesitate, moving to gather the magazines and guns.
The two of you worked in relative silence, the only sounds the shifting of metal and the occasional clink of ammunition being loaded. Despite everything, the atmosphere between you felt strangely light. It was as if, for a moment, the world outside was forgotten and it was just the two of you working together. You didn’t know why, but it was oddly comforting.
“May I ask how you’re so familiar with guns?” he asked, genuinely curious now. He hadn’t expected you to be the type, but he wasn’t in a position to judge anymore.
You hesitated for a moment before replying, your voice softening. “Well, I used to have an aunt who was really into guns. She married a fellow gun enthusiast, and together they opened up a shooting range near our home. At first, I wasn’t that interested. Guns weren’t my thing, really.” You paused, remembering the past. “But then I started noticing someone—someone I had a crush on. He was always reading about guns, and I thought maybe I could get him to teach me. I thought it’d be a way to connect, you know?”
Young-il nodded as he stayed quiet, finding comfort in your voice as you talked him away. You took a deep breath before continuing, the words spilling out freely.
“When I asked him about it, he just brushed me off. Told me that girls like me should stick to cooking and cleaning and that guns were for ‘big boys’ like him. Some bullshit like that.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I didn’t take it well. It pissed me off, actually. And from that day on, I got serious about guns—just to prove I could be as good as any guy.” You let out a bitter chuckle. “Now, I’ve got a collection at home.”
The air around you seemed to shift. The lightheartedness had drained from the conversation, and you felt the past creeping up on you. Young-il must’ve noticed the change in your mood, because he didn’t speak right away. Instead, he gave you space, knowing you needed it.
A few moments passed before you spoke again, your voice distant. “A few years after we met again, things just... happened. One thing led to another, and I ended up having a beautiful baby girl.” You smiled softly, but it quickly faded. “You should meet her. I think she’d like you.”
Young-il’s face softened for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. You felt the smile fade completely as you continued. “I’m happy to have her, I really am... But it wasn’t supposed to happen that way. The guy... he wasn’t in it for the right reasons. He just wanted to drain me dry and disappear. He never told me about his debt. And the collectors...”
You trailed off, the heaviness of the past taking over. Young-il stayed quiet, giving you the space you needed to process everything.
“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Young-il said gently, his voice softer than before.
You shook your head, offering him a reassuring smile. “No, no
 it’s okay. You deserve to know.” A brief silence passed between you two before you started explaining, the weight of your words settling heavily in the air.
“When the collectors came to my house, I found out that he had put my name and address down as the guarantor. In their eyes, I owed them around 1 billion won, but that was far from the truth. They told me that since I was their ‘favorite’ debtee, they struck up a deal. They’d lower the debt to 800 million... and another form of payment to cover the remaining 200 million
” You paused, your breath catching in your throat. “In return... they’d keep my kid hostage until I paid them every last cent.”
Young-il looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and sympathy. He didn’t know what to say, but his expression was enough. He opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it, opting for silence. After a while, he let his mouth open. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It must’ve taken a lot of courage to tell me, especially to someone you’ve only just met.”
Grabbing the last available gun, you smiled back at him, but it was a smile tinged with sadness. “It’s alright, Young-il,” you said, your voice steady despite the heaviness in your heart. “I know this is not the right time for these things, but you’re definitely more than just someone I’ve only just met.”
Young-il froze, your words sinking into him like a knife he hadn’t seen coming. He kept his face neutral, but inside, a storm raged. He had tried to suppress it—whatever it was that made his chest tighten whenever you spoke to him, that made his thoughts drift to you in moments of quiet. But now, hearing you say those words, the feelings he had buried clawed their way to the surface.
His gaze flickered to you, trying to gauge if you understood what you had just done. But your eyes met his with a casual earnestness, as if you hadn’t realized the impact of your words. Of course, you didn’t. You couldn’t.
You didn’t know that every small interaction with you chipped away at the walls he had built around himself. That every glance, every word, every fleeting moment made it harder for him to maintain the facade of indifference he had perfected over the years.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his jaw tightening. What was he supposed to say? That you were right? That you were more than just someone he’d met in the chaos of the games? That you had become something he didn’t know how to handle?
No. He couldn’t say any of that. Not now. Not ever.
So instead, he said nothing.
“Are you ready?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, completely unaware of the turmoil brewing inside him.
He nodded once, stiffly, as if the motion required more effort than it should. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and even.
As you turned away, he lingered for a moment, watching you. His chest ached with a mix of emotions he didn’t want to name—ones he thought he had locked away when he lost the love of his life. He had told himself there was no room for them, especially not now, especially not with you.
And yet, here they were, threatening to unravel him.
He shook his head, forcing himself to follow after you, his steps heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid. He couldn’t afford to let himself feel—not here, not in this place where feelings were a liability.
But as much as he tried to bury it, he knew it was too late. He had already let you in, even if you didn’t know it.
You stood beside Young-il, both of you observing the remaining players, the silent anticipation thick in the air. The guns and ammo laid before you, the weight of the upcoming mission pressing down on everyone. Gi-hun, at the front of the group, finally broke the silence, his voice steady yet resolute.
“We will capture those who captured us, putting an end to this game, and making them pay.”
The weight of his words hit hard, but there was no turning back now. Everyone knew what was at stake. Beside Jun-hee, Hanni's gaze lingered on Young-il, watching him carefully. There was something off about him, something she couldn’t quite place, but she was determined to figure it out. She was always one to notice the little things.
Gi-hun’s voice rang out again, more direct this time. “Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward.”
For a long moment, no one moved. Fear was a suffocating blanket that kept them frozen in place. Then, Jung-bae stepped forward, his presence almost a defiance against the tension in the room.
“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice firm, though tinged with his own nervousness. “We’re scared too. But this might be our last chance to make it out of here alive.” A beat of silence followed, heavy and thick. Then, with a quiet resolve, Jung-bae continued, “Fight with us, so we can go home together.”
One by one, four men stepped up, their faces a mix of fear and determination. They grabbed their guns and ammo, preparing for the fight ahead. Gi-hun began instructing everyone to check their ammo, his eyes scanning the group for any sign of hesitation. Jung-bae handed out radios, the weight of their importance not lost on anyone.
“We’ll be using channel 7, the lucky number,” he announced. Everyone nodded in unison, following his instructions.
Gi-hun turned to Young-il, who was checking his ammo with meticulous care. “Thank you for earlier,” He said, his voice quieter than usual. Young-il didn’t look up, his focus still on the gun in his hands. “You can buy me soju when we get out,” he muttered, his voice gruff but carrying a faint hint of amusement.
You overheard their exchange and couldn’t resist the urge to tease. “What about me? Where’s my thanks?” You pushed the ammo back into its place, a smirk playing at your lips as both men glanced at you in surprise. Your chuckle filled the tense air, lightening the mood for a brief moment. “I’m just messing with you. Good luck out there, Captain. Get us out of here.”
Gi-hun smiled back at you, nodding before turning to check the rest of the team.
Meanwhile, Player 120, noticing Player 246 struggling with his ammo, stepped forward without hesitation. She called for everyone’s attention, and the group grew silent as she began to demonstrate how to operate the gun in her hands.
“This is the MP5, a submachine gun,” she said with a confident grin, her hands moving smoothly as she demonstrated how to load, unload, and switch the mode of the weapon.
You couldn’t help but watch her, fascinated by the fluidity of her movements. There was something almost hypnotic about the way she handled the weapon, and you felt a rush of excitement. You exchanged a glance with Young-il, catching his teasing look. Your eyes narrowed playfully in return.
“What?” you said, your voice light, but with a hint of a challenge. “It’s not every day you find another girl with the same interest as me.”
“Well, I didn’t say anything,” Young-il replied, his tone nonchalant, but there was a subtle spark of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you. His lips quirked slightly, as if he was trying to suppress a smile but failing just a little.
You shot him a playful glare, your eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. "Just saying, it's rare to find someone who gets it." You crossed your arms, leaning back slightly as you met his gaze, your voice teasing but with a quiet warmth.
Young-il raised an eyebrow, his smirk lingering. "I get it, trust me," he said, his voice a lot softer.
As player 120 returned to her spot, You and Player 246, who seemed just as curious as you, looked at her in astonishment. “Where did you learn so much about guns?” 246 asked, his tone a mix of awe and genuine interest. You were itching to ask the same thing, and when Player 120 answered, you couldn’t help but grin.
“Ah, I was a sergeant first class in the ROK Special Forces,” she said, her tone casual but proud.
You practically beamed at her answer. “Wow,” you muttered, feeling a newfound respect for the woman who had so confidently shared her experience. You turned to the male beside you, ready to share your thoughts, but as your gaze flickered over to Young-il, you noticed something you hadn’t seen before—a distance in his expression, something off. The familiarity of his stoic face was still there, but there was a coldness behind it now that you couldn’t place. You felt your chest tighten, and for a moment, your confidence faltered. The words you wanted to say got stuck in your throat. Was there something bothering him?
You hesitated for a second before turning your attention back to Player 120, deciding not to press. You wanted to focus on the task ahead, but that nagging feeling in your chest refused to subside.
Gi-hun’s voice broke through the quiet, cutting through your thoughts. He pointed a revolver at the guard on the ground, demanding that he remove his mask. You felt your stomach turn as the young guard’s face was revealed. He looked no older than 25, his eyes wide with fear. Jung-bae’s reaction mirrored your own—he was visibly disturbed by the sight. He approached the guard, his voice filled with genuine concern. “Do your parents know what you’re doing?”
Before the guard could answer, Gi-hun cocked the revolver, silencing the room in an instant. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 
His voice was low, almost a growl, but it carried with an unyielding edge. “Take us to your captain.” His words hung in the air, final and unwavering.
You followed the group, positioning yourself toward the back of the line just in front of Player 120. Before stepping through the door, you cast a glance back and saw Hanni and Jun-hee's worried faces. You offered them a warm, comforting smile, trying to reassure them, even if you weren’t sure how much comfort you could offer in that moment.
As you stepped through, you seized the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the other woman in the group.
“Hey, uh
 my name’s [Lastname] [Name]. I just wanted to say, I really admire how fearless and knowledgeable you are with guns, especially for a girl. Not that it means much, I’m a girl too. It's just... the only other woman I knew who was into guns was my aunt,” you said, trying to keep the tone casual despite the nerves gnawing at you.
Player 120, Cho Hyun-ju, gave you a surprised but warm smile. “Nice to meet you, [Name]. I didn’t expect you to be so open, especially with how tense everything is.”
Before you could respond, the sound of Gi-hun’s revolver firing cut through the air. The loud shot echoed, silencing the recorded announcement urging everyone to return to their beds. “Down!” Gi-hun barked. Your eyes snapped up, spotting the movement of pink guards approaching from the corner.
"At one o'clock!" Gi-hun yelled, his voice urgent. You quickly ducked, instinctively reaching for your weapon. Hyun-ju, without hesitation, took cover and began firing.
“Cover me!” she shouted as she moved, using the new position to get a better shot. You returned fire, covering her as she positioned herself to pick off the guards. Every few moments, you switched between ducking for cover and popping up to fire. The rhythm became second nature, the cacophony of gunfire almost drowning out your thoughts. Bang, cover. Bang, cover.
“Cease fire!” Gi-hun ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. You dropped behind cover, a sharp breath escaping you as the last of the guards fell. Gi-hun quickly checked in with everyone. You gave him a thumbs-up, signaling you were good.
"Alright, we move up," he said, his voice steady as always. You nodded, scanning your surroundings. Your eyes flicked to the CCTV camera near you. With a quick movement, you raised your gun and fired, taking out the lens. You saw Hyun-ju doing the same on her end. The two of you exchanged a brief nod, silently acknowledging the trust that had formed in the chaos.
Gi-hun led the group forward, signaling everyone to check corners as you moved.
Suddenly, you all halted as Gi-hun interrogated a guard. Gun to his face, the guard meekly pointed ahead. “The entrance to the management area is around the corner. The control room is right above it,” he said, fear evident in his voice.
“Move it then,” Gi-hun ordered, pushing the guard forward.
The guard hesitated, then started to reach for his mask.
“What are you doing?” Gi-hun demanded.
“I need to get my mask to bypass security,” the guard replied quickly. Gi-hun hesitated but allowed the guard to move, sensing no immediate threat.
But then, the unexpected happened. The guard froze, staring blankly ahead, paralyzed. Before you could react, a bullet pierced his skull, sending him crumpling to the ground. Chaos erupted immediately as the sound of rapid gunfire filled the air. Guards flooded in, and you scrambled for cover, adrenaline pumping through your veins.
The gunfire was relentless. You moved, ducking and shooting, ducking and shooting, covering every angle as you fought for your life. The intensity of the moment was blinding, but you couldn't afford to lose focus.
“I’ll go for the management area!” Gi-hun yelled, his voice cutting through the noise.
“Will you be able to find it? Should I come with you?” Young-il called after him, a note of concern in his voice.
“No,” Gi-hun responded sharply. “I’ll go with Jung-bae. You need to buy us some time.”
Young-il nodded, his gaze sharp. Gi-hun and Jung-bae moved off in one direction, leaving the rest of you to handle the remaining guards.
Noticing two of your friends had bolted, you immediately motioned for cover, weaving between Young-il and Dae-ho. You glanced at Young-il, asking where they were going and what their instructions were. Young-il quickly relayed their plan, his voice steady despite the urgency.
With a firm nod, you raised your gun, ready to provide the cover fire needed. The next few moments were a blur of bullets and evasive maneuvers as you helped keep the guards at bay. You could only hope that Gi-hun and Jung-bae would find what they needed before it was too late.
As you continued to fight off the guards, you noticed Dae-ho's frantic movements. He was wasting bullets, shooting wildly without even aiming. The gunfire echoed around you, but his shots were going wide, not hitting anyone. You could tell he was struggling.
When he ran out of ammo, you placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. “You good there, Dae-ho? Do you have some extra ammo?”
His eyes were wide, panicked, and full of fear. You could see the signs of someone who had experienced more than they should have, someone who had been pushed to the edge. His reaction was familiar to you—too familiar. He was struggling with some kind of trauma, possibly PTSD. Despite his fear of gunshots, he had still volunteered to fight, a true marine in spirit, but the weight of it was starting to break him.
Young-il noticed the exchange, his gaze shifting between you and Dae-ho. You handed Dae-ho some of your extra ammo, keeping your voice calm as you tried to keep him grounded. “You have to be resourceful. It’s okay to take a breather. I’m here to cover you.”
Dae-ho gulped, nodding shakily as he began to reload. You took the moment to shoot a few guards, hiding behind cover to keep your position steady.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere!” Player 047 shouted, his frustration evident. “Let’s follow them up to the upper level!”
You immediately shook your head, disagreeing with the idea. “We might get surrounded if you don’t have a plan! We need to wait for Gi-hun and Jung-bae’s signal!”
Young-il nodded, agreeing with your assessment. “Let’s wait until they find the control room.”
You were about to reposition when a bullet grazed your cheek, the sharp sting making you flinch. Blood seeped out, but thankfully it wasn’t anything fatal. Still, the pain was enough to remind you of how dangerous the situation was. You cursed under your breath as you pressed a hand to your face, trying to stop the bleeding.
Young-il noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he shot the guard who had fired at you, his sharp eyes never leaving your form as he checked on you. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah
 thanks, ah shit, that hurts!” you winced, but you quickly resumed your position, peeking out to shoot, then ducking back into cover. Peak, shoot, hide. Peak, shoot, hide.
But then came the dreaded sound of an empty magazine clicking. Shit, you were out of ammo. You reached for your pockets, frantically searching for spare magazines when Hyun-ju’s voice rang through the hall. “Everyone, check your magazines!”
The tension in the air grew as you all checked your remaining rounds. It was bad for everyone—almost all of you were running on fumes, ammo running dangerously low. Even Young-il was out.
Just as you were about to panic, the radio crackled to life.
“Young-il, Dae-ho, [Name], can you hear me?” Jung-bae’s voice came through, sounding strained.
Young-il looked at you, signaling for you to cover while he responded. You nodded, raising your gun to keep the guards in check.
“Yeah, we hear you. What’s the status?” Young-il replied, his voice steady despite the chaos around you.
Jung-bae’s voice came back quickly. “I think we’re below the control room now! But we need backup and more ammo!”
“We’re running low on ammo too!” Young-il yelled.
“There should be spare magazines in the soldier’s pockets in our quarters. Go get them!” Gi-hun ordered.
“Got it!” Young-il responded immediately, turning to the group. “Did you hear that? They need backup! Four of us will go, and the rest will stay here. Join us once you’ve gotten more magazines.”
“Who wants to go with me?” Young-il asked, looking around. Without hesitation, you raised your hand, determination in your eyes. “I’ll go!”
Young-il looked at you with a troubled expression, about to argue, but before he could stop you, two other voices spoke up in agreement. Player 047 and Player 015 both volunteered to join, and Young-il, after a final look at your determined face, gave a resigned nod. “Alright, follow me.”
The four of you moved cautiously, alert as you made your way toward the stairs. The hallways were dimly lit, bathed in an eerie purple hue that made everything seem surreal, almost as though you were walking through some twisted version of reality. The stairs seemed endless, twisting upward in the haze of the purple glow.
Young-il gave the order for you three to go ahead of him, signaling you to take the lead. Without hesitation, you followed. What you didn’t notice however, was Young-il making eye contact with the CCTV camera, and silently ordering the guards—through hand signals—not to shoot you.
As you turned the corner, your eyes immediately locked onto Gi-hun and Jung-bae. Relief surged through you for a second before you remembered the danger. “Did you find the control room?” you asked, your voice a mix of urgency and hope.
“I think it's right up there, but we can’t go this way,” Gi-hun said, his voice tense. “I want you to find another way.”
“I did a scan of the layout here,” Young-il said, sounding calm, but there was a quiet determination in his voice. “I’m sure there’s a way to go around them.” He turned to you, his gaze steady but full of unspoken concern. “You stay here with Jung-bae and Gi-hun. You still have more ammo, so guard them, okay?”
You blinked, feeling your heart tighten in your chest. “What?” you asked, surprise creeping into your voice. “Are you sure about that?”
Before you could press further, Young-il’s voice softened but carried an edge of finality. “I want you guys to keep their focus on you. We’ll hit them from behind.” He paused, his gaze meeting yours for a long moment, his eyes betraying just how much this weighed on him. There was tenderness there in his look, desipte that, there was no room for argument.
You saw the worry in his eyes, but also something else—a protective instinct that almost made your heart skip a beat. You knew there was no way to change his mind so you just nodded, pushing down the tightness in your chest and grabbed your last magazine. “Take this, Young-il, and be safe.”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on you. “You sure?”
You nodded firmly, despite the fear gnawing at your insides. “Dae-ho will be back with more.”
His hand brushed yours as he took the magazine from you, and for a split second, it felt like time slowed down. The touch, however brief, left a lingering warmth in your palm, and when his gaze lingered on you, there was an almost imperceptible softness in his expression that made your heart flutter, even if only for a moment.
With a final, decisive nod, Young-il, 047, and 015 ran as you peeked out from the wall, your pulse racing as you provided cover for him and his team. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the familiar sting of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
After a while you heard Young-il’s voice crackle over the radio: “We found it. Start attacking and draw their attention. Then we will hit them from behind.” Gi-hun’s voice followed shortly after, giving you the go signal. There was no turning back now.
Your grip on the gun tightened, and as you moved into position, you didn’t hesitate. With one last glance at Gi-hun and Jung-bae, you stepped out from your cover and opened fire, the rapid succession of shots echoing off the walls. You kept your aim steady, focusing on their movements, keeping them distracted. Each shot rang out, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on you—your mind was focused, but there was a constant undercurrent of worry, the feeling that you were too far from where you needed to be.
It had been a few minutes since you saw Young-il. The soldiers were still there, and a tightness formed in your chest. Something wasn’t right. You pushed the thought away, staying focused on the fight at hand, but you couldn’t ignore the nagging worry. Every time the radio buzzed, your heart skipped a beat, hoping to hear something from him.
And then, your prayers were answered. Hope rushed through as your radio buzzed to life. However, everything came crashing down when heard his voice. Weak. “Gi-hun
 Jung-bae
 [Name]
 I’m sorry
”
Your stomach dropped. You could barely breathe as the world seemed to slow around you. You grabbed for your radio with shaking hands, putting it up to your mouth as your heart raced. “S-stay where you are, Young-il. I’m coming.” The words barely left your mouth before you were already running, ignoring the shouts from Gi-hun and Jung-bae as you pushed forward.
Your feet pounded against the ground as you ran, the urgency flooding your veins. You couldn’t think. Your focus was a single thought—get to him, and get to him now. The radio fell silent as it slipped off your hands, and you were left with nothing but the sound of your breathing and your footsteps echoing in the halls.
You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to accept it. But as the minutes passed, and the distance between you and your goal seemed endless, something inside you shifted. Desperation took hold of you, and with each step, it felt like you were running out of time. Tears blurred your vision, and you wiped your eyes, but the fear that gripped you didn’t let up.
You stumbled, tripping over your own feet, the exhaustion starting to catch up with you. Your mind screamed at you to keep going, but your body couldn’t take it. You hit the ground, scraping your palms. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You needed to find him.
And then, you saw it. A flash of white. A shoe, just barely visible around the corner. Your heart skipped a beat. Ignoring the pain, you propped yourself up, the desperation pushing you forward.
You ran toward it, praying, hoping—maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance. But as you turned the corner, everything seemed to stop. A sudden thud behind you—the sound of heavy footsteps, too close. You spun around just in time to see a black-clad guard standing before you.
Instinct kicked in. You raised your gun, fingers wrapped tightly around the grip, your eyes locking on the target. You squeezed the trigger, but instead of the sharp report of a shot, the only sound was the click of an empty chamber. Panic surged in your chest. You were out of ammo.
Before you could react, the guard lunged forward, and with brutal precision, he slammed the barrel of his gun into your face. The impact was jarring, sending you stumbling back, your vision spinning and your body fighting to stay upright. Blood poured from your nose, warm and thick, but you had no strength left to retaliate. The world blurred as your knees gave way beneath you, and you collapsed to the floor, the darkness swallowing you whole.
The last thing you heard was the guard’s voice, distant and cold, as he spoke into his radio: “I have Player 132.”
And then, the world went silent.
“Good.” In-ho’s voice replied, “bring her to where I am.”
As Jung-bae and Gi-hun knelt with their arms behind their heads, In-ho, wearing his uniform, walked down to greet them.
“Player 456,” he said, voice masked. “Did you have fun playing hero?”
Gi-hun looked up at the familiar voice, anger flashing across his face. Before he could respond, he watched as his enemy gestured to the black-clad guard to step forward. As the guard approached, both Jung-bae and Gi-hun’s eyes went wide. In the guard's hands was you, battered and bruised, unconscious and lifeless. Blood soaked your clothes, and your head hung limply. The guard dropped you unceremoniously to the ground. Your body hit the floor with a sickening thud, and they couldn’t look any longer, their hearts shattering at the sight. Despite only meeting each other for a short period of time, you had felt like a little sister to them, someone who had always been there, and now you were being discarded as though you meant nothing.
In-ho, unfazed, pulled out his Deagle and aimed it at your motionless body. A surge of anger flooded Gi-hun, but he was too late to stop what was happening. He had helped you through so much, and now, despite everything, he couldn’t even protect you.
“Look closely,” In-ho’s voice cut through the silence, “at the consequences of your little hero game.” Before turning the gun towards Jung-bae.
Jung-bae, his face pale with fear, barely managed to speak, his voice trembling, “Gi-hun—”
A loud bang echoed through the room, and Jung-bae’s body crumpled to the floor, lifeless, blood pooling around him.
“No!” Gi-hun screamed, unable to contain his grief. He scrambled over to Jung-bae’s body, pulling him close. His eyes then flicked to yours, and he rushed to hold you too, calling out your name in agony. “No, please...”
He tried to charge toward the masked man, his anger and desperation overpowering him, but the guards quickly tackled him, pinning him down. The sound of his cries filled the room, but none of the guards moved to stop it. He wept for both you and Jung-bae, unable to process the loss.
In-ho stood watching with cold indifference, finding satisfaction in Gi-hun’s torment. With a simple gesture of his hand, he commanded the guards to knock Gi-hun out. As the guards subdued him, In-ho turned his attention to the aftermath.
“Clean up this mess,” he ordered. The guards began clearing away the bodies, but when they reached for you, In-ho stopped them. “Leave her be.”
Once the area was cleared, In-ho instructed everyone to leave, and the guards filed out. Alone in hallway, he looked down at your peaceful face, his expression softening for a moment. He removed his glove and gently wiped the blood from your cheek.
The action seemed to rouse something in you, as your eyes fluttered open. Disoriented, you blinked, taking in the unfamiliar sight of black shoes in front of you. Your senses kicked in immediately, and with quick reflexes, you grabbed the revolver hidden beneath your shirt and aimed it at the figure in front of you.
Your finger squeezed the trigger, but instead of the expected thud of a body dropping, you heard the sharp crack of shattering glass. The CCTV camera behind the masked figure had been destroyed. The sound echoed, and for a brief moment, everything paused.
In-ho didn’t flinch. His gaze never left you, cold and unwavering. You, on the other hand, stood frozen, unable to process what had just happened. The gun in your hand felt foreign, heavy. The glass that scattered across the floor seemed to mock you—your aim had been off. You hadn’t meant to miss. But what had you really aimed for? The camera? Or something else?
His posture remained unchanged. Silent. Watching. Calculating. He didn’t seem angry or pleased. He was just... waiting.
The silence pressed down on you, suffocating. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked between the broken camera and him. You weren’t sure what you expected—more movement, an immediate response, or maybe... nothing at all. The question lingered in the air, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask it. You were waiting, too. Waiting for the next move.
Your body tensed. Was this the end? After all this was the enemy Gi-hun told you about. Every thought in your head felt like it was colliding, spinning in a storm. Taking a step back, your body reacts before your mind could catch up. What was he going to do? Was he still going to kill you?
Suddenly, the words you hadn’t even realized you were thinking slipped out, barely a whisper. “W-what do you want?” The sound of your voice startled you, hoarse and raw from everything leading up to this point.
“Answer me!”
He didn’t answer, he simply extended his arm, his palm open. A gesture. A question. It felt like he was waiting for something more than just your answer—maybe a reaction, maybe a choice. But you didn’t know if there was even one left to make.
The silence stretched out, thick and heavy. Your pulse thudded in your ears, drowning out everything else. And then, for the briefest of moments, everything cleared. A strange, unsettling calm swept over you. The fear, the anxiety—it all faded, replaced by something deeper, darker. You were done running. Done fighting. It was all too much.
Without thinking, your hand lowered, the revolver slipping from the aim you had kept steady for so long. Slowly, almost in slow motion, you brought the gun to your temple. Your breath hitched, shallow and ragged, but the world around you felt distant, quieter.
It wasn’t a decision. It was a release. A way to escape all of it.
But just as you gathered the strength to pull the trigger, you heard a slight sound. The faintest of movements. The sound of unclasping. You blinked, dazed, as something shifted in the air.
His hand lowered.
And then, with slow, deliberate motion, he removed his mask.
Your heart stopped.
For a moment, everything else ceased to exist. The room, the tension, the gun still pressed against your temple—everything blurred. The world shifted.
You stared at him, unable to process what you were seeing. The face that had once been a stranger now felt... familiar. But it wasn’t supposed to be him. It couldn’t be. The man standing in front of you wasn’t the same one who had fought beside you, who had once shared your vision, your cause. No, this wasn’t him.
And yet... it was.
"...Young-il?"
The name escaped your lips like a memory you weren’t sure you wanted to reclaim. He didn’t answer. He just raised his hand again, his gesture the same, his eyes locked on yours.
It wasn’t just a question—it was an invitation.
You stared at his outstretched hand, the choice heavy in the air. The revolver trembled in your grip.
This time, the decision was yours to make.
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corkinavoid · 2 months ago
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DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt.2]
[<- part 1 | part 3 ->]
Tim doesn't remember what happened. What he does remember is that he was in the middle of an apocalypse with no idea how to survive it, a few of his friends and family dead, and clinging to the last possible resort with no hope it would actually make a difference.
He remembers thinking whatever happened next could not be worse than what he's already been through.
And then, he remembers an unfamiliar voice, a cheeky grin, and a light so bright he had to squint his eyes shut not to be blinded.
When he opened them again, he was back in the Cave, and, as he found out a few moments later, when a panicking Dick ran up to him and attempted to squeeze the dear life out of his body with a crushing hug, back in time by three weeks. With the whole recollection of what happened before- Well, after that.
And, it was not only him who got to keep all the important memories. The rest of the Bats remembered everything as well, and the League, and even a few others, all of whom were somehow connected to said apocalypse, which had not yet happened.
Tim looked down to the Ring.
He did not tell anyone why or how they got a second chance.
A month later, with the crisis safely averted and his anxiety buzzing under his skin, Tim locked himself up in the Nest, pressed his lips to the cold metal on his finger once again, and whispered a quiet, "Thank you."
He did not know what he expected in response, but certainly not a snort right by his ear and an incorporeal voice that seemed to come from every direction at once.
"You're welcome." It was not ominous, not solemn or anything of sorts. If anything, the voice sounded like Duke whenever Tim thanked him for a fresh cup of coffee the boy brought to the Cave for him. Entirely unbothered and offhanded, and a little bit fond, like somehow saving Tim's whole world was not a big deal.
Well, maybe it wasn't, for whoever the voice belonged to.
Tim looked at the Ring again. Then, he looked around, not sure how to proceed. As far as his analysis went, the King - because who else it might have been? - did not want anything in return, nor did they intend on keeping in contact. And, technically, that was probably a good thing. Because, yeah, right, any normal and sane person would prefer to stay away from getting unnecessarily involved with beings of immeasurable power.
However, Tim did not think of himself as either normal or sane.
So, he clicked his tongue, annoyed and on the verge of pouting, "Really? That's it? 'You're welcome'?"
For a second, nothing happened.
Then, there was a startled, surprised snort of laughter, and, a moment later, a boy floating in the air a few feet away from Tim.
Tim blinked. The supposed almighty monarch of Infinite Realms, Keeper or Worlds and whatever, did not look particularly kingly. If anything, he looked very much unkingly.
Not much older than Tim - so, twenty or somewhat around it - wearing something that he'd expect Jason to wear on a daily basis. Cargo pants, an unzipped jacket with its sleeves rolled up, a t-shirt with some rock band logo, none of which exactly screamed 'royalty' to Tim. There was a matter of floating, of course, and the boy's hair was so white that it actually hurt to look at it directly, but other than that, the King looked...
Almost absurdly normal.
He was also holding a big, although already half-empty cup of bobba milk tea, and lazily reclining in the air without a care in the world.
"You want some?" The boy asked when he caught Tim staring at his drink.
Tim blinked. The vision of a floating boy in his living room did not disappear.
"I, um," he stammered over words, searching for any kind of answer, and then shook his head, "No, thanks?" The words came out more like a question than a statement. The boy pursed his lips and shrugged.
"Your loss. It's from the best place ever," he paused, looking up to the ceiling and frowning, "I don't think it exists in this timeline."
Tim shakes his head again, like trying to kickstart his thought process. It doesn't work.
"So, you're..." he trails off, and the boy startles before moving in the air and shifting so his feet actually touch the ground. His hair and jacket still both act like gravity doesn't exist.
"Oh, right. I forgot I never introduced myself," he gives Tim a sheepish grin, "It's kind of strange, seeing that I did spend about three years around you. I'm Danny, or Phantom," he offers Tim a hand and then tilts his head slightly, "But never Daniel, for the record."
That is honestly too much information in just three sentences. Tim shakes the offered hand - which is way too cold to be actual human hand - mostly on reflex.
"I'm Tim," he adds dumbly, and Danny grins.
"Yeah, I know."
Which brings Tim back to what the boy said before, and he frowns.
"Wait, you said you've spent three years around me?" That means, since around the time Tim first put the Ring on, if he is not mistaken. The boy rubs the back of his neck.
"Yeah, well, I wanted to see who you were before I made myself known, but your family is a really nosy bunch, and you're quite literally never alone, and I kind of didn't want to scare you, so..."
"So you stalked me for three years," Tim finishes the sentence when Danny trails off. The boy grimaces and makes a so-so expression.
"I mean, you all did think I was some kind of an eldritch monster that's going to spirit you away or something. Showing up unannounced would be awkward at the least," he reasons. Tim can't argue with it when he puts it that way.
So, instead, he reaches for the cup in Danny’s hand and snatches it away, taking a sip before the boy is able to protest. It does taste like the best bobba he tried, so there's that.
"Are you?" He asks, tapping the straw on his chin as Danny floats up again, seemingly unbothered about the stolen drink. Looks like keeping his feet on the floor is either uncomfortable or rather unnatural for him.
"Am I what?" Danny raises one eyebrow.
"An eldritch monster?" Tim clarifies, and, between one moment and another, the sight of the semi-normal, albeit floating, guy in front of him distorts like a glitching video. Glimpses of bright, neon green eyes, sharp, inhuman teeth, and shadows crawling around the room fill Tim's vision, making him gasp sharply, but all of that is gone as soon as he blinks. Danny shrugs.
"I can be," he admits easily, "But most of the times, I'm not."
Tim looks at him thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes and taking another long sip of the drink. The bobba pearls taste vaguely like mango when he chews them.
On one hand, this is a very much unknown, possibly dangerous magic creature. On the other, the creature's name is Danny, and he does have a good taste for food, so how bad can it really be?
"Cool," he shrugs finally, offering the cup back, "Wanna go out some time?"
Danny smiles so bright that Tim can't help but return it and takes the almost empty drink, his fingers brushing over Tim's.
"I thought you'd never ask," he snorts.
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persicipen-archive · 1 month ago
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𑑛 “PROMISE TO TAKE IT”  BLADE, DAN HENG, JING YUAN, LUOCHA. HONKAI STAR RAIL
fem reader  words 2.1k áŻœ rough scenarios, separately. blade — prone bone. doing it raw. creampie  dan heng is in his dragon form, but not entirely. missionary. implied mating season lol  jing yuan — size kink. riding him but he’s still in control and a menace  luocha — “little thing” petname, oddly comforting situationship or one night stand  rewritten áŻœ ADULT CONTENT  MINORS DO NOT INTERACT áŻœ
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BLADE 
While the bedroom itself remains an oasis of solace and a delicate space where you can be yourself, never judged by his ruby eyes despite his low huffs and puffs at any of your antics, it is now also a jail for your sobs. Cries disappearing in the supple cotton of the pillow as Blade pounds into you, rough hands gripping your wrists like a rope. Oh no, he will not allow you to push his hips away.
Not after you begged for this just moments ago with that adorable whine of yours.
The dripping slickness saving you from the punishment that is him rutting into you with abandon. His cock stretches your pussy wide, filling you to the brim with every thrust, and you arch your back against him, letting him impale you over and over again on his heavy girth.
He growls, his fingers digging into your soft sides, leaving reddened imprints, as he pulls you towards him. He slams into you roughly, his balls slapping against your overly sensitive clit as he fucks you without mercy.
You squirm in his grasp, trying to break free, but no, his grip on you is firm. He doesn’t want you to move. You’re here just to take care of his needs.
The man above you breathes out, his long black hair falling over his arms and tickling your shoulders. Using your body as he pleases, relentlessly pushing until only his base can’t settle into your cunt. You whimper, your legs shaking as you feel his tip brush against your deepest spot, and he chuckles. He likes how you clench around him, unsure if you want him to leave you or to welcome him deeper — this is how he knows you’re getting close.
And so, Blade leans forward, his breath burning your neck, and bites on your irritated skin. You cry out, your soppy walls throbbing to lure him into your heat, and he grunts as he hears your juices plapping down his thighs. The way you cream all over his cock — awfully erotic — your wetness coating his length, and he picks up his pace, pounding into you with renewed vigour. He wants to cum inside you. To fill you up.
A high-pitched squeal escapes your lips, your silhouette shivering with uncontrollable intensity. The overwhelming sensation becomes too much to bear, and you find yourself unable to endure it any longer; still played with like a pretty doll, pressed to the mattress with all of his weight. Blade groans, his girth pulsing, and he snugs himself deep into you, cumming in thick, hot spurts, your pussy milking him until the very last drop.
You mewl at his treatment, your wrists aching from his bruising grip, and he smirks, his red eyes gleaming. The way you look right now, his favourite image of contained desires. His dear beloved.
He will make it up to you later with sweet kisses and gentle caresses, but for now, he enjoys the sight of his cum oozing out of your well-fucked cunt, dripping onto the bedsheets.
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DAN HENG 
This position isn’t something new, however, and even though the fact is pleasant to think about, you do wonder what caused him to get so bold. Maybe at the sight of you admiring his partially changed form, eyes drinking in the beautiful shimmer of his scales, he understood that you find him so attractive — as always, but now also intrigued by other parts of him that might be different.
His hand traces the lines of your ribs as you inhale at the feeling of him entering deeper — the unfamiliar shape of his cock nesting comfortably against your soft insides — and then he puts some weight on top of you, pressing you further into the pillows, his lips barely touching your own, unsure if he already wants to kiss you.
“Tell me if it hurts you.”
“It’s alright, really. You can
 you know, continue
”
“Now I’m more concerned that you seem to like it more than when we’re doing it
 gentler.” Surprised at his own talkativeness, there’s a red splash of colour on his cheeks as he bites his lips at the end of the sentence and buries his face in the crook of your neck. You giggle at his comment, but it turns into a needy moan as he moves his hips to rest snugly between your legs.
With your tongue, you slide across his upper lip, capturing it softly and biting on its tenderness, tasting a faint trace of his salty sweat and humming as he shivers, your fingers tangled in his hair, brushing through the ebony black locks, before whispering, “I know you’re holding back. No need to, I trust you.”
“Mmh,” Dan Heng mutters with a shaky breath as his shaft hardens and thickens at your reactions. Your reassuring words have such an impact on him; they're teasing him with this pleading tone of yours, allowing him to mate with you during the times when he gets so incredibly hot in your presence, unable to keep his hands off of you.
His thrusts start slow and measured; however, with each minute passing, he finds himself succumbing more and more to the instinct calling upon him; it is so much different now that you’re within his reach — how you react, how you look at him — everything makes him lose his cool. Soon his lips find your nipple again, teeth grazing sensitive skin until you hiss, yet push yourself towards him, arching your back. The sting of his bite stimulates you to the point where your inner walls spasm, clamping down on him tightly as you almost cry out.
Even the shallowest strokes produce audible squelching noises whenever he loses his rhythm. He’s just as intoxicated by the new sensation. The little details that change in his build now make you two melt in each other’s arms; his cock glides with fervour and carelessness against the spots that usually required precision.
The pleasure is overwhelming, even a bit eerie how accurate at bringing the sweetest of your sobs out. His instincts still force him to grip at your shoulders — you let him do this — to slam harder inside of your pussy. And you can barely take it, but he quickly looks at the side on the clock, and it’s been barely minutes since he started

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JING YUAN 
He embraces you tightly, wide arms with ease, groping your entire body as you shudder, and let him bring you closer, your back pressed to his soft yet firm chest — allowing his cock to reach deeper, spearing your entrance until your essence seeps out in abundance between your bodies.
Usually, you would expect Jing Yuan to prefer being face to face with you, but also knowing what a menace he can be, there must’ve been something more on his mind. Which catches you by surprise when you notice his fingers circle your clit from the front, sort of caging you between one pleasure and another as you helplessly try to wriggle out of his iron grip.
At that, what you hear is a chuckle — deep like the ocean, sweet like honey, dripping with both love and lust, and making you all fuzzy from within. The waves of immense enjoyment lap at your limbs from all sides, and you gasp out when his palm rubs you so skillfully, with care and adoration.
“No matter which part of you I touch
 It’s a pleasure to watch you shake in my arms.” He purrs with a small smile, nibbling at your earlobe and inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. You wish to nod but can't, in fear that it’ll only spur him further on to bounce you on his cock and enjoy how you struggle with each thrust. “Does my beloved bird feel good?”
Before you can answer — which you would love to, gathering the strength and courage to wail and sob into his lips as your head falls back on his shoulder — his palm moves up from your bundle of nerves to your tummy, pressing on the soft flesh there. Intently. He knows exactly what to do to get a specific reaction out of you, to make himself moan as you clench abruptly on his girth despite your walls sobbing at the stretch. You feel so full in that moment, choking on your breath at the additional pressure, too occupied with his cock filling your body so wholly.
As he starts to fuck you relentlessly — you cry out, the pitch of your voice higher and higher as you slowly become incapable of maintaining any volume at all — the tiniest sounds, broken huffs of air leaving your mouth; your eyes are glassy with tears, and all you want to do is bury yourself in the pillows and blankets, somehow escape from this prison of bliss. But he holds you close, one hand fondling your breast and the other playing around your lower abdomen, always there where you don’t want him at the moment, just to tease and make you more and more desperate.
A little flick of his thumb against your pearl, a press on your belly, maybe even fingers parting your folds as he drags his fat tip in and out at the perfect angle. It’s enough to throw you over the edge again.
As if your body belonged to him — and he, being the ever caring lover, already knows everything about you, that you enjoy it too much when he manhandles you like this.
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LUOCHA 
The immense pleasure causes your mouth to whine and moan out his name. “Luocha, Luocha
” Is all that can be heard in the room besides muffled gasps and melted noises of naked bodies colliding with each other.
Certainly unpredictable was meeting someone who’s but a travelling merchant, skilled enough to render you putty beyond measure with just a verse of his saccharine voice and touches. You don’t believe him anymore. Though you cannot find an answer to it at the moment whilst your brain just refuses to think of anything else except how well you’re currently getting fucked by that gentleman.
The beauty above you lowers his face close to your own, his treacly lips catching your own with a delicate bite, trailing down your jawline and neck with slow kisses. Lukewarm and wet, like the summer mizzle. Just merely too fast for you to appreciate his features before the golden curtain of his bangs falls across his cheekbones.
“Are you doing well, little thing?” He asks quietly into your collarbone, immediately switching your focus from his words to his cock. With a tender push, he stays still for a moment, pulsing flesh pressing constantly on all your sensitive spots.
“Too well
” you utter with a weak, genuine smile.
He smiles back. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Luocha continues thrusting in and out at a suave pace, pounding into you with a special sense of skill and gentleness. Hauling into your cunt with each drag of his lean hips, his pace is unbothered, almost lenient with the offputting care. As if this meeting is sensible somehow, way above than what it truly is — a transient exchange of lecherousness, nothing more.
With his hands clamped around your waist, lifting you up slightly up from the bed, his swollen length reaches far inside of your aching core at that perfect angle, the tip gliding repeatedly against the sweetest patch of your walls. Drizzles of pre mingle with your essence and souse your puffy petals whenever he retreats from the confines of your insides, a proof of enjoyment that none of you is able to say out loud.
To keep him close — merge into the comfort of feeling someone’s warmth — you wrap yourself around his willowy silhouette, a ribbon made of entangled limbs.
“I wish we could meet again before we part ways.”
“You’re still here with me.” He hums into your ear, once again leaning in to smooch the side of your head, tickling your sweat-sodden hairline. “You should focus on that for now.”
All the overstimulation is taking your breath away, specs of drool sprinkled in the corner of your lips. His palm pets you softly between your legs, extracting another weep from your throat and a wobble of your tense thighs. The sudden impact of his digits rubbing on your clit draws you nearer to your orgasm; and he wishes to see it soon, so he concentrates on your reactions, tongue slightly peeking out from behind his teeth in concentration.
Your whimpers and cries — pure eroticism that makes him consider if it’s even worth to waste the softness of your fevered skin for a meaningless exchange. If one night can turn so satisfying, a pity it would be to say goodbye instead of promising another and another meeting after that. Perhaps

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AUTHOR’S NOTE — most of those are old thirsts that i put into one post with slightly edited past typos. but the hilarious thing is that luocha’s part had to be almost entirely rewritten today — and maybe it’s not visible to others, but i giggled comparing my writing. it’s like a rollercoaster from my perspective hehe
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