Chapter Text
There is a certain presence in a room where death has arrived.
Seong Gi-hun has felt it multiple times, more than he could imagine to be fair.
When Sae-byeok died, he had grieved for a child that was gone too soon. With Sang-woo, he mourned the previous friendship that had turned so complex he still couldn't think about it clearly. When Oh Il-nam died–or had led Gi-hun to believe so the first time–he lost a parent. The second time, an enemy.
But Jung-bae?
He lost a brother.
“No! No! Jung-bae!”
He could feel eyes staring at him as he lunged to cover Jung-bae’s body with his own far too late. He was too late to save him, and suddenly Jung-bae looked just like his mom had, when he had done all he could but still fell too short to change the outcome.
People were born to die, but Gi-hun felt he was cursed to put them in the Reaper’s path too early every time.
His head hung next to Jung-bae’s, a place where the two were physically close but would never be alive together again.
“Jung-bae!” He cried out, a voice in a storm that no one else around him was being weathered by except for himself.
His shoulders shook with the weight of an added soul that would never leave him again, a new consciousness that only Gi-hun could ever try to let lay rest.
But the actual death, he knew who was responsible for it.
The Reaper himself.
Gi-hun looked up, eyes stinging with a malice that he hadn’t felt since Il-nam told him that he was the creator of the games.
Gi-hun assumed that he was looking the Devil right in the eye, because the masked man turned away before the former could speak, walking away as if the pitiful sight in front of him was not worth his time.
Gi-hun lunged for him, for the man that had taken his former livelihood, his friends, his joy away from him. How could he leave, when their business was not finished yet.
The guards slammed him down before he could make it far, and he looked back at his friend. His lips quivered with sounds that were deaf to him in his anguish. He waited for Jung-bae to get back up, to tell him that this was all a damn nightmare and tomorrow they would wake up and get soju together. But he remained still.
He was dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Before he could process it further, the guards separated the two and pushed Gi-hun down. Whatever remaining air he had left vanished as they pulled him up and forced his feet under him.
They started a slow march back to the room where he knew the fellow players were. For each dead body they passed, he felt a pang in his chest that leaked into his stomach.
This is your fault.
Young-il’s words came back to him.
“Are you suggesting sacrificing a few to save many?”
Saving many, what a failure he had been in that. How could he justify anything he had done if it only had ended in loss anyway? He didn’t save any of his friends, he wasn’t able to stop the games, and he had gotten people killed along the way.
He was the opposite of a hero.
He had sacrificed everyone at the gain of nothing, just more death. He had repaid murder with more murder, and now the red on his hands was being painted further onto his body, so that his whole being was a sea of estranged blood that reeked of inevitable loss.
He watched as the dead players were given caskets, his friends that were gone too soon, all because of him.
Next to them, he noticed that the downed guards were simply lifted by their alive comrades and taken away. They were not granted the solid resting place that the players were.
He supposed that was the behavior he should have expected from the man with the black mask, but he was surprised nonetheless. They were people too; were they truly deemed as less than by their leader?
He thought about it further until they reached the door separating him from the others, and he felt a dread that made his bones ache.
Was he really about to go in there and have to look them in the eyes alone? The lack of his previous company around him would certainly clue them all in that not only had Gi-hun failed, but everyone else had to pay the price for it.
They had believed in him, all of his friends. They had been willing to give up everything and put their trust in him for a resolve that he had devoted himself to.
And he had failed them all.
As they opened the door in front of them, he thought of the people he had lost in his failed rebellion.
Dae-ho, with his childlike joy. Hyun-ju, with her excellent military skills and fierce loyalty. 246, who he had not come to know yet but wished he had, after all, they both had daughters.
Others who he had shared a laugh with, who could no longer laugh again.
Jung-bae, who he had known since they were kids. They had been inseparable, working together, living life together, whose friendship had lasted longer than both of their marriages. They had always counted on each other, and Gi-hun never had a sibling before, but if he did, he imagined Jung-bae to be his.
And then there was Young-il.
He swallowed a sudden sob, the thought of him being too much. They had gotten close quickly, and Gi-hun recounted when Young-il had looked at him with hope, telling him that he voted to stay in the games because he was certain he could make it through with the guidance from the former winner.
Then, later in the games, Young-il had looked at him and asked if he should come with him to find the front room. He should have said yes, taken both him and Jung-bae. Maybe then, they could have stood a chance, and they would still be alive.
The guilt wore at him. Not only had he not been able to help with any further games, he had led them all on a suicide mission.
One of the guards prodded the tip of their gun into the space between his shoulders, and he walked forward. Stepping into the room, he surveyed his surroundings.
To his left, the ‘O’s were where he last saw them, huddled in their portion of the room and watching the action as if they were untouchable spectators.
To his right, the majority of the people who wore an ‘X’ were in their own corner, but two were on their knees in the center of the room, stripped of their weapons.
Dae-ho and Hyun-ju.
A fleeing rush of relief swept through him as his knees buckled upon entering the room, and he crashed into the ground.
The guards left him there as they returned to the steps. His back was facing them, and he didn’t move as they spoke.
“Due to previous actions, no fighting will be permitted tonight. If there are any outbursts or incidents, the involved players will be eliminated.”
They said nothing else after that, and Gi-hun lifted his head in time to see Hyun-ju approach him, the 120 on her outfit looking worn by all the fighting.
“Hyun-ju,” Gi-hun said hesitantly, watching for any changes in her face as they stared at each other.
“Not here,” She replied, taking one of his arms in her hands and helping him rise. She led him to the corner opposite of the ‘O’s, and he saw that both 149 and 007 were urging Dae-ho to the same area, the mother and son successful as Dae-ho finally pushed off his feet.
As they all approached the area, Dae-ho paused in his steps. Gi-hun turned to see what had caused him to pause, and stopped moving when he realized that Dae-ho was swaying back-and-forth, his hands going from clenched to unclenched repeatedly as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Hyun-ju leaned in close, “He was supposed to get the extra clips, but when I got in here to see what happened, he was having a panic attack on one of the beds.”
Gi-hun nodded, then took a step towards Dae-ho. The younger man didn’t open his eyes as Gi-hun took him by the shoulders, though his whole body started to shake. He pulled him in, and Dae-ho sobbed into his shoulder as Gi-hun moved his hand to the latter’s neck. “It’s not your fault.”
Dae-ho sobbed harder, “It was my- I didn’t- I-”
Gi-hun pulled away from him but kept his hands on Dae-ho’s shoulders. “Open your eyes. Look at me. None of this was your fault. You hear me? It is not your fault.”
Dae-ho didn’t look like he was convinced, but he nodded regardless, and the rest followed behind the two as they sat. Those with an ‘X’ created a barrier around Gi-hun as they scooted in close to hear what he would say. He looked back to Hyun-ju.
“Did anybody else survive?”
Hyun-ju was already shaking her head. “Nobody returned before you, and Dae-ho and I were the only ones to make it back to the room before they overtook us.”
Gi-hun closed his eyes and released a breath that caught, and for a moment he couldn't breath.
“Where’s Jung-bae?”
Gi-hun turned to the voice, where Dae-ho sat, leaning forwards as if waiting for the older man to strut through the door. He looked back at Gi-hun, faltering when he said nothing.
“Wasn’t he with you? Wouldn’t they have sent you both back together?”
Gi-hun just stared, knowing that words would fail him.
Dead, because of me.
Dae-ho took in the look on his face, and his own went slack as he realized what the silence meant. His jaw trembled, “No, he has to be- they couldn’t have-”
“I’m sorry,” Gi-hun whispered. “We had surrendered, and they killed him.”
Dae-ho dropped his head as his shoulders caved, and his cries circled the group.
“What about Young-il?” A girl’s voice said.
He turned his head, spotting Jun-hee, whose hands supported her belly, while Player 333 sat next to her.
“Have you heard anything about him?”
Gi-hun turned towards her. “The last thing I heard from him over the radio was him telling me that it was over, and I heard a gunshot. I couldn’t reach him after that.”
A look of sorrow crossed her face, and 149 rushed to sit next to her so that Jun-hee could lean on her while the woman rubbed her arm in comfort. The elderly lady began whispering to her as Hyun-ju grabbed Gi-hun’s attention again.
“What do we do next?”
Gi-hun inhaled, “I don’t-”
“-You! You there! Number 456!”
The group turned to see Player 100 coming towards them, and Hyun-ju moved to block him from entering the group’s space, though Gi-hun grabbed her shoulder.
“Let him,” He told her.
The short man walked up to them, with more people standing behind him. “So,” He started, “What is that you’ve found?”
All conversation came to a halt, as if Gi-hun’s words were the justices that would decide if they all would live or die.
Gi-hun took in a shaky breath before speaking, his eyes briefly scanning over the other people before landing on Player 100. “They were more prepared than we had expected, and there were too many guards to count.” He breathed out slowly. “We weren’t able to make it to the control room.”
The man let out a tch and took a few steps back before rounding on Gi-hun again. “And where is everyone, huh? The ones that went with you?”
Gi-hun shifted as the others around him continued to listen. “They were killed.”
The room was silent for a moment, and then Player 100 laughed. He laughed until others were laughing behind him as well. He then turned to the other ‘O’s.
“You hear that? Mr. Former Winner here just eliminated some of the competition for us!”
Gi-hun’s eyes widened, “I- no, that’s not what I did-”
“Oh would you relax, old man,” Player 124 said next to Player 100, his mouth curled with delight. Gi-hun remembered him being one of the boys that Young-il had chastised previously, and he winced. “So a few people died, it was gonna happen anyway! And you see that piggy bank up there, it just keeps getting more full for the rest of us.”
Player 333 rose, placing a hand on his knee as he came to his full height, the only one standing on the ‘X’s’ side.
“Watch your mouth and have some respect,” He said. “They did that so that you could get out of here alive.”
The boy sneered, “And they lost their lives in the process. None of us asked for them to do that except for him.” He pointed at Gi-hun.
“Did you have fun playing the hero?”
“Well, at least he had the guts to do something! What have you done besides drag your feet and play the games like a complacent pet?” Player 333 retorted, and the two started to face each other.
“Oh yeah, well what about you, pretty boy? I saw you stay here while the others fought. Gonna justify that, or just admit that you’re also a dog?”
“Don’t try to act like you're better than me. All you and your group do is hope that other people will be eliminated by each round. And by doing that, you all are just waiting your own turn to die,” Player 333 responded in a heated manner, and the people behind him started to stand in agreement.
Both groups were closing in, and Gi-hun could see the guards start to move towards them out of the corner of his eye.
If he didn’t put an end to this, more deaths would be because of him.
“That’s enough!” He shouted. He rose to his feet, placing himself in between the two. He lifted his hands, forcing everyone to separate further, which stopped the advancement of the guards.
“We tried to fight back and it failed. People were lost in the process,” Gi-hun stated. Jung-bae, Young-il. “What we should focus on now is getting out with as many people alive as possible.”
“And just what, put our thumbs in our mouths and take the shared money that will barely cover a portion of our debts? I don’t think so,” Player 100 scoffed.
Gi-hun turned in a circle, making a point to speak to everyone. “If we continue like this, none of you will be alive long enough to even see the prize money grow, much less take it home. Don’t you people value your lives?”
“And what about our lives out there, huh? You think the collectors are gonna believe us when we come up short and say it was because we voted to leave some child games that were killing us? They aren’t gonna give a shit for anything except the money we fail to give them,” shouted someone from the ‘O’ side, to which people nodded with agreement.
“What about in here though?” Player 149 shouted. Her son tried to shush her with a quick “mom” but she swatted at him. “More people will die, and that will continue happening if we all stay. Out there though, there are other ways to make money without risking our lives to do it.”
“No,” Player 100 said as he shook his head. “We’re here now, and this is how we’ll do it.” He looked at Gi-hun. “You tried it your way and you failed. Now we’ll do it our way.”
He looked back at the other ‘O’s again.
“One more game!”
“No,” Gi-hun whispered, but it was too late.
The chant echoed in the room.
“One more game-”
“-One more game-”
“One more game!”
“One more game!”
Gi-hun looked around, but all of the ‘O’s were yelling. No one would be switching sides for the next vote.
The vote wouldn’t happen until the next morning, but Gi-hun already knew the results.
They would have to play another game.
— - - - — - - - — - - - — - - - — - - - —
When Kang No-eul was invited to be a guard again, she wasn’t ecstatic, nor did she dread it. It was simply a job that she could choose to do, and a way to get more money.
She was good at it, bringing peace to those less fortunate, eliminating players with the precision of a pilot that perfected their craft.
No-eul never thought anything else of it. No remorse, no guilt. She was there for a job, the same way the players were there to be part of the games. It was their own fault they had signed up and continued playing, and they all had a role to perform.
She would admit though, when she decided to come back, she didn’t think she would recognize one of the players.
She had spotted Park Gyeong-seok during the first game, and had been keeping track of his progress ever since. She knew she had to watch over him; he had a kid to get back to.
“Please don’t kill me, my daughter is very sick.”
Idiot, She thought. They never cared about that type of thing.
He was lucky that she had been the one who shot him, so when he was placed into a casket, still alive, she was quick to mark it with a cross made from his fresh blood.
Then it was a race against the clock.
While the circle guards took his body to the cremators where they would then drop him into the doctor’s chamber, she skirted around unsuspecting guards who kept placing bodies into caskets.
She was also passing by other triangle guards, and she could have sworn that some of them were watching her make her leave, knowing that she had ulterior motives that could get her killed.
She bounded down the steps, hoping that the doctor wasn’t going to be too eager to get started immediately with his body, then grimaced beneath her mask at the unlikelihood of the statement.
No-eul ran past more bodies in her path, hoping that the players were at least able to get rid of the vulgar guards that were intent on lording over others through force.
She passed a dead triangle guard, and she couldn’t help but smile a little.
It was one extra chance that one of her enemies was taken care of.
She made it to the room, barging in through the door and startling the doctor, who’s scalpel was hovering over a body that she could see was in a steady rhythm of inhale-exhale.
“Wait,” She said to him, moving over to see the number of the player.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The doctor said, shocked upon her intrusion. “I wasn’t expecting a guard so soon.”
A baited statement, she knew. He wanted to know if she was actually meant to be down there, though by her ignorance of his comments, he knew the answer.
She breathed a quick sigh when she spotted the number 246 on his unzipped coat, double-checking by scanning his face. Gyeong-seok.
“You have different orders for this one,” She instructed. “Player 246 is to be treated.”
“Liar,” He countered. “I was told my only job is organ collection-”
She took the gun that was hanging around her chest and moved it so that her hand was on the trigger, bringing it so that it was pointed straight at the doctor.
“Your job description has changed,” She told him coldly. “This one is to be treated. Immediately.”
“Fuck you,” He argued. “No way am I going to-”
She chose an area next to his head and fired, the bullet grazing the helix of his ear as he howled in a mix of pain and fear.
“Fuck! You fucker!” He screamed, reaching for gauze to stop the bleeding.
She parried his hand before it could reach the counter of supplies, then hoisted him by the collar of his coat so that her hands pinned his body between her own and the wall.
“Listen carefully, because if I have to say it again, you’ll have to be worried about your own organs as I cut you up,” She said, her mask making contact with his injured ear as she leaned in close. He cried out, legs threatening to drop him, but No-eul’s hands held strong.
She waited for him to quiet, though any longer and all her efforts would be for nothing.
“You are going to treat Player 246 while I watch, and if he dies, I’ll kill you, do you understand? Either both of you live, or you die along with him.”
The doctor nodded, and she looked down to see that he had soiled his clothing. She released him, and he stood still for a moment. She moved to the other side of the table, and looked down at the laying player.
You will live, She promised.
You’ll make it back to her, alive.
The doctor shook himself, stepping up to the table and assessing the wound. Right below the heart, and hitting no major arteries. The doctor then flipped Gyeong-seok around, hands stuttering as he took in the fact that there was an exit wound. The doctor glanced up at her, though she knew that already.
She was an excellent pilot, and the bullet had followed its flight path perfectly.
She watched over the next hour as he worked on the body, his hands moving quickly as if going slow would lead to his death sentence.
As he was suturing the wound, the door opened again to the two other triangle guards that she had known to be her former attackers. They were laughing about something, but stopped quickly at the sight in front of them.
Their doctor, doing the opposite of what he was being paid to do, and another guard, who, considering they were only watching the doctor, was responsible for this.
One of them started to lift their gun, but No-eul was faster, already positioning it so that all she needed to do was shoot.
The guards paused, the one on the left speaking, “Guard 11.”
“Save it,” She replied. “Once this is over, your operation will go back to normal.”
“You have interfered. We told you what would happen if you budded in again.”
Her finger curled on the trigger, and the guard went silent.
“This favor is being done for me,” She told him. “To pay it back, I will help you collect more bodies in future games. That’s more money in your pockets. I won’t ask for any of the cash, just for this procedure to be done”
“We don’t need more people,” The guard said.
“You will though,” No-eul stated. “There will be more guards that will do what I did, killing still-alive players, and I can take care of them.”
The guards looked at each other, and she could see it in their heads already; how they were waiting for her to slip up so they could attack her.
“Fine,” She sighed. “You don’t want my help.”
They looked at her hands, her finger still carefully curved around the trigger, weighing on it slightly as if it were a heart that beat with every passing second. Click, click, click.
“But you will take it though,” She continued.
Their heads looked up simultaneously, and she smiled under the mask.
“I’ve told somebody on the island exactly what you’ve been doing, and if they don’t hear back from me within the time frame I’ve given them, you’ll all be reported for game hindrance and player incentives.”
Two bluffs, and she watched to see if they would fall for both of them.
The first: Nobody knew what she was currently doing, as she hadn’t had the time yet to secure her backup plan. If they killed her now, no one would come looking for her.
The second: It would be difficult to plant any evidence of them giving advantages to players, as they weren’t actually doing it. They hadn’t broken any rules–yet–so she would have to come up with something in order to have them killed.
The three were in a standstill, the only movement being the doctor as he continued working on the living player.
One beat passed, then another.
As she was about to pull the trigger and end the situation, they relented.
The guard on her right turned his head, looking from the doctor to her, while the one on her left spoke again. “If you mess this up for us, I don’t care who you told, I’ll kill you myself.”
No-eul nodded, a quick up-and-down of her head that to them expressed her understanding, but to her confirmed her thoughts.
With all the bullshit they pulled, they would never be more than what they actually were.
Men who wanted power and to put themselves first.
They left the room quickly, and No-eul turned to see the doctor placing the last suture. Once he was finished, he wiped his head with the back of his arm and faced her.
“Done,” he gasped. “I’m done with the procedure.”
“Watch over him,” was her response. “You will make sure he is healthy, and everytime I come back, you will give me an update of how he is doing.”
She turned to the door, holding onto the handle.
“You will be able to remember what happens if he were to die, correct? I don’t give a damn if you tell me there was nothing you could do to save him. Even if someone came in here and killed him, I’ll still blame you. Your life hangs on the balance of his.”
And before he could reply, she walked out.
She had one more place to go before she could start looking for a way to get Gyeong-seok away from this place.
The Masked Officer she reported to had a soft spot for her, and with this information she was going to give him, she would secure an immediate place of safety.
She knocked on the door to his office, and waited for him to announce a quick “come in”.
She pushed it open, closing it behind her as she looked to make sure no one else was here.
He looked up at her from where he was sitting, “Take off your mask.”
She did so, and his expression turned into one of surprise. “No-eul. I wasn’t expecting you here.”
“I’m going to start helping you with the organ collection.”
Quick and to the point. The same way she wanted to get Gyeong-seok off the island and back to his daughter.
His eyebrows met in a moment of confusion before one raised. A question.
“I’ve changed my mind. You were right. They’re all going to die in the end, so we should be helping others by giving them access to the organs.”
She was saying the correct words, she could see it in his eyes.
But he wasn’t convinced yet.
“You’ve always been so hesitant, why now?”
She pondered. Why now?
“Because I’ve come to realize that it’s mercy in another form.”
He smiled at her, an unpleasant movement that included his lips ticking up and the bottom half of his face stretching as a glint entered his eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come to this realization,” he said, pleased. Then his face hardened.
“During the next game, there will be numerous players that can be salvaged after being eliminated. You're priority is to shoot only where it is nonfatal, so that their bodies can be collected for harvesting.”
No-eul bowed her head.
“Sir,” She muttered in agreement.
A radio flickered to life closeby. “–Do you copy?”
Her boss picked up the radio, “I’m here.”
“Meet me in my office. Now.”
The radio cut to silence, and for a moment, neither spoke.
He rose to his feet, groaning as he used the chair to stand. He grabbed his mask off the desk, and took a few steps until he was in front of No-eul. He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “I knew you would come around.”
“Sir,” She repeated.
He stepped out of the office, looking back at her. “Come see me again soon to report on the next game.” And he walked out.
She waited until he was gone before leaving as well. As she planned to head back to her room, she heard voices down the wall. One was the man she had just finished speaking with. The other, she didn't recognize.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“A boat may come here-”
A boat?
She inched closer to the door, being careful not to be caught.
“-before the games are over. I intend to send it back to the mainland, before it arrives here. But if it does, no one on it is to be harmed. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“If it comes, the people on the boat are also under no circumstance to see the players.”
“No, of course not.”
There was a pause, then the voice she didn’t recognize spoke again.
“It is especially important that none of them make contact with Player 456.”
“They wouldn't be able to, I’d make sure of it. But sir, why will you not be here to carry it out?”
“I have unfinished business. By tonight, I will inform you if I intend to return back to the-”
The sharp sound of glass breaking came from someplace behind her, and she whipped her head around as the voices went silent. She didn’t see anyone who had dropped it, so it most likely came from downstairs, however it could be heard throughout the whole space.
No-eul turned her head to see if they had spotted her, but they hadn’t moved outside yet, so she hurried down the steps and back to her quadrant.
One thing was clear though.
She needed to figure out more about this potential boat, and how to Gyeong-seok on it.
One of them deserved to get back to their own daughter.