𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

"What is your last name, Mr. Gi-Hun?..." "Seong? A "dream"? Well, you are our prophetic dream, Gi-hun..." "Mr. Gi-Hun..." "Are you sure?.." "Do you enjoy playing the hero?.. " "Do you still believe in people?... " Gi-Hun. The cold stare of In-Ho, skillfully hidden behind the black mask of the Frontman, was fixed on the screen through which he could see everything happening at the scene of the final game. What was going on now? A newborn baby girl, carefully wrapped in a tracksuit marked with the number 456, lay on top of a cold, high platform. And now, she was alone. Her mother had died in the previous game — jumping off a bridge with full understanding that she wouldn’t be able to pass the trial with a broken ankle. Her father had fallen from a tall concrete pillar in the last game, screaming madly beforehand that he’d throw the baby down as if it were just some useless toy or rag. Just a disgusting bluff, nothing more. And the one who had protected the baby with his life — was now falling into the void... backwards. "We are not horses... we are human beings." We are human beings. The grave silence in the room rang like hell in his ears, making everything feel unbearable and suffocating. The VIP-guests exchanged glances when they noticed In-ho slowly approaching the screen, carefully looking down, placing a gloved hand on the transparent dark glass. Something deep in his long-rotten soul twisted with pain. Why... did it feel so strange? Why was he staring down at Gi-Hun’s falling body with dread in his eyes? Why was his gaze darting nervously? Why did his hand suddenly tremble? It had to be a dream, right? Just another nightmare caused by years of trauma and the horrors witnessed on this cursed island? He wished Gi-Hun was just sleeping restlessly right now on his uncomfortable bunk bed mattress. Even in his dreams, he was probably imagining punching the Frontman’s face and ending the games once and for all, wasn’t he? Well, he never gave up — always voting "X" for ending these cruel games, starting rebellions, desperately searching for the mysterious man in the black suit who kept these damned games alive for the amusement of soulless, wealthy monsters. Yet this wasn’t a dream. This was reality. Swallowing hard, In-Ho’s eyes welled with tears. Gi-Hun. I've forgotten what emotions felt like... and 've forgotten what it meant to suffer loss... In-Ho had witnessed countless deaths during his years working as Frontman. These sure were ordinary people, lured to the games every year by the false hope of clearing their debts and winning big. One by one, their true selves were revealed the moment the first gunshot rang out and blood splattered across the ground, making others trembling with fear. The desperate, almost rabid hunger for money, the willingness to betray and destroy each other never led them to victory. In the end, they always died. They were no one but victims of their own greedy desires. In 2015, In-Ho himself had played and won the main prize — big amount of money. Blood money. Money earned at the cost of 455 lives. Money that never brought him peace nor salvation. His pregnant wife had died at a hospital while he played childhood games, watching one by one as people disappeared. On the night before the final game, with the "game host's" help, he personally finished off the remaining players, securing his win — and 45.6 billion won that he had meant to spend on his wife's surgery. But when he left that hellish place, she was already gone. That was the moment he truly lost himself. They say time heals. But not for In-Ho. He never recovered. His soul froze over, becoming a block of ice incapable of compassion. Everything he had cherished, everything he had feared losing, was now gone forever. Because no amount of money can bring back the life of someone you love. Life is just a brutal game. Gi-Hun. An ordinary looser. A former gambling addict who bet on horse races with his best friend Park Jung-Bae. A man who made it through all the rounds, losing everything — friends, family... And all that for the sake of the prize. A man who refused to conform to the system, determined to hunt down the Frontman and VIP-guest's and force them to end it. A man who was nothing like the others. A man who SURE HAD CAPTIVATED IN-HO. — "Player 456 is eliminated." Unable to bear the sight, In-Ho squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his fists against the glass, screaming loudly. He no longer cared about the presence of the gold-masked VIP-guests, nor their surprise at his sudden reaction. — Did you like that player, Mr. Frontman? — one of the VIP's asked, being intrigued. — Geez, seems like our mysterious "man in black" really cared about the previous winner... We’re sorry, Mr. Frontman. You clearly gave player 456 very special attention, — another guest murmured, sipping his expensive whiskey. In-Ho said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the motionless body lying on the cold ground, staring blankly up into the sky. — "Sir, the island’s been exposed. They’re on their way. We're finished." A static crackle from the radio instantly snapped him out of his trance. Without a word, In-Ho left the room, moving swiftly toward the control chamber. Among all the staff on the island, only he had full access. Slowly, he inserted the special key and turned it. A harsh alarm blared. The self-destruct system had been activated. Soldiers rushed to evacuate, escorting VIP-guests out and carrying the baby, still wrapped in the tracksuit, through a hidden escape route. But In-Ho just stayed inside. What comes after the island is destroyed? For years he had hidden behind a mask, playing his Frontman's role to absolute perfection. But now, without it all, he didn’t know who he was anymore. His life had become an endless loop of cold routines. No meaning. No future. His new "life" had been Gi-Hun and the secret surveillance of him after his victory. Watching him rebel, fight back, challenge the system… It had fascinated In-Ho. The more he watched, the more deeply attached he became. Unconsciously. Slowly. Obsessively. As the stuff and guests has quickly dispersed, In-ho returned to the place where the players had first seen the towering game statues — massive concrete shapes looming over them in haunting majesty. And there, near the final platform, he found the body. Kneeling beside Gi-hun, In-ho looked into his face, gently brushing back his sweat-drenched hair with a trembling hand. — Mr. Seong… You won… You stopped the games… Please, wake up, Mr. Seong… He whispered it over and over, leaning toward Gi-Hun’s ear, as if his voice might still reach him like a miracle. — Please… wake up… Mr. Seong… Minutes remained before the explosion. In-ho sat there, gently stroking Gi-Hun’s hair, like a grieving mother trying to wake her child. There was no point in escaping now. No point in running. No desire to return to the city and hide from his younger brother — a man just as relentless in his fight for justice. Just as Player 456 had been. Had always been. Sitting on the dirty ground beside Gi-Hun’s lifeless body, In-Ho felt the last flicker of hope inside him slowly fading away. The hope that player 456 had sparked one day. — Mr. Gi-Hun… You won… You’re a hero, Mr. Gi-Hun… You’re my hero, Gi-Hun. My hero. I would give anything to change what happened. "10." "9." "8." "7." I... "6." "5." Gi-Hun… Tears — bitter tears of despair — dripped onto the dead man’s cheeks. "4." "3." "2." "1." Gi-Hun… BANG. Sharp, disgusting ringing in his ears. Darkness. Silence. Was he dead now too? Was it all over? Mr. Gi-Hun… please wake up. Wake up… Gi-Hun... Wake up. . . . — Just get up already, you lazy! A familiar, anxious voice suddenly shouted... ••• TO BE CONTINUED •••