𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

***

The time until lights-out dragged on agonizingly slowly. The players behaved quietly — whispering to one another, resting, lost in their own thoughts. Yet the room was still thick with tension, heavy and suffocating. Gi-Hun lay silently on his bed, lost in thought. The events of the day had left him with too many emotions and impressions. Yet, among the most unpleasant moments, there was something good — a light feeling of calm and comfort, mixed with a pleasant warmth in his chest. The kind of feeling that young lovers experience when they hold hands for the first time. He touched his wrist again, as if trying to recapture that sensation. Immediately, the memory of the cramped room from the morning game resurfaced, where they had been alone together, and those cautious, almost weightless touches — like a subtle hint, like a slightly lifted veil of a tiny secret, tickling from the inside and refusing to leave him in peace. Yeong-Il. Gently, almost silently repeating the name, he closed his eyes. Can someone feel something here, within these walls? Everyone here is fighting for their life, hiding their emotions. And yet… why now am I concerned only with your touch? Why do I keep returning to this moment in my memory, as if trying to preserve it forever? — Gi-Hun? A familiar soft voice suddenly interrupted his stream of thoughts. Player 456 snapped his eyes open and, blushing, met In Ho’s gaze. — Did you call me? — In-Ho asked quietly, tilting his head slightly. — I thought I heard my name. An awkward silence hung between them. Gi-Hun swallowed, unsure what to say. He looked away. — Did you have a nightmare? — the Frontman asked cautiously, though deep down he knew Gi-Hun hadn’t actually slept. — Well, today, you were truly on the brink of death… I understand that it shook you. His hand gently touched Gi-Hun’s shoulder. He felt the tension, as if player 456 was holding his breath. — Don’t be afraid… I’m here, — In-Ho whispered softly, carefully observing player 456’s embarrassed expression. — Thank you, — Gi-Hun smiled softly, his gaze fixed on his knees. For some reason, he didn’t want to meet In-Ho’s eyes just now — whether from nervousness or embarrassment. Gi-Hun felt that In-Ho could read more in his gaze than he wanted to reveal. That faint feeling — a flutter in his chest, like a small spark — both warmed and frightened him. He hadn’t felt anything like this in a long time. The last time his heart fluttered this way was back when he had been happy in his marriage with his ex-wife. Everything around had seemed warmed by light and comfort. And yet… Yeong-Il. Why is this feeling now directed at you? While Gi-Hun was lost in thought, In-Ho simply sat beside his bed, enjoying the quiet company. But this peaceful moment didn’t last long. — Geez, look at that! Our Gi-Hun has become quiet too, just like Yeong-Il! — Jung-Bae remarked with a smirk, sitting down nearby. — So what are you talking about? — Ah… nothing, — player 456 answered quietly, throwing a brief glance at his friend. — That’s right, — Dae-Ho drawled lazily, poking his head down from the upper bunk. — There’s already enough chatter here. Look, that one purple head and his buddy are making noise again! At the far end of the room, Thanos mumbled something incoherently, rhythmically nodding his head, while Nam-Gyu interrupted with a grin, waving his hand. Sometimes their noisy exchange slipped into quiet cursing, causing a few players to snort disdainfully and turn away. — Freaks, — Jung-Bae snorted. — Are they always this weird? Gi-Hun thoughtfully turned his gaze toward the source of the noise. Thanos noticed he was being watched and lazily turned his head, making a grimace. In-Ho silently sat nearby, observing Gi-Hun's reaction. — Oh god, I can’t believe we’re still in this game because of these freaks! — Jung-Bae muttered, smirking slightly. Tension in the room rose with every passing minute. One of the "cross" team sank to his knees, clenching his hands as if to restrain a panic. — Hey, people!… — one player pleaded in a trembling voice. — We’re losing our teammates every day. Aren’t you afraid? Our families are waiting at home… Let’s vote to cancel the game! The others nodded, their shouts rising, mixing with the chatter of the "circle" team. — Do you really think that money will cover your debts? — player 100 protested angrily.  — Your pathetic earnings won’t even cover half! You’re all damn pathetic! The disputes continued, and the room descended into noisy chaos. In-Ho carefully watched every gesture and every word. He understood that tension was only growing and could escalate into a fight. — The situation is clearly escalating; we need to protect ourselves, — he said quietly, turning to Gi-Hun and the others. — And what do you suggest? — Jung-Bae asked in surprise. — Do you think they might attack us at night? — If we shift our mattresses down under the iron frames, we’ll create cover against sudden confrontations, — In-Ho continued. —That way, we can protect ourselves. — We need to take turns on night watch! — Dae-Ho nodded. — I can go first, sir! Marines fear nothing! — No, I’ll take that… — In-Ho sighed. — I sleep poorly at night, so I can watch until it’s someone else’s turn. — And I can take the shift after Yeong-Il, — Gi-Hun murmured quietly. The Frontman glanced at him and nodded lightly. — Agreed. The team began executing their plan: they hurriedly moved mattresses under the beds, creating "cover" among the iron bars and thick frames. Dae-Ho also moved Jun-Hee’s mattress, who had quietly sat nearby all this time, nodding to show understanding. After all the rearrangements, they only had to go over the details of the night watch one more time. They settled in a corner, quietly discussing the order of each shift and safety measures in case the situation spiraled out of control. A tense but focused silence filled the room. Occasional rustling from distant beds made hearts beat a little faster. Everyone understood that the night could be a real test. The closer they were to the final games, the more dangerous the situation became. In-Ho knew that even after all precautions, unexpected provocations couldn’t be ruled out. A tie in the vote could provoke participants into sudden actions at any moment, and he had to be ready for anything. Ready to protect Gi-Hun. When the soldiers eventually announced lights-out, the team carefully arranged themselves on the prepared mattresses. In-Ho remained sitting a little apart, on the iron steps. Now he had to keep watch over the room. Or was there another motive? About an hour later, when everyone finally fell asleep, the host slowly got up and gently tapped Jubg-Bae on the shoulder. — Yeong-Il?... — he mumbled sleepily, rising. — But isn’t it Gi-Hun's turn now? In-Ho shook his head slightly. — Just don’t wake him. After today, he barely stood on his feet. I need to step away to the bathroom. Jung-Bae frowned, as if to object, but catching the firmness in In-Ho’s voice, he only nodded quietly. — Alright… I’ll take the shift. You owe me! — Just be careful, — In-Ho added shortly. He lingered on the sleeping Gi-Hun a moment longer than necessary, then headed toward the exit. A different, more dangerous role awaited him. He knocked on the door to catch the soldiers’ attention. — Please, I need to use the restroom. To Jung-Bae’s surprise, who watched from afar, the soldiers opened the door without hesitation, escorting the player to the bathroom. He smiled inwardly. Have the pink weirdos finally improved? Or is Yeong-Il’s gaze so calm that they feel awkward? But In-Ho knew: a meeting awaited him that could determine not only the outcome of this night but also the fate of those he had sworn to protect. Gi-Hun. I hope you’re sleeping peacefully. The soldiers walked silently beside him. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor, as if counting the minutes — or even seconds — before something inevitable. The elevator door loomed in the distance. Reaching the required floor, In-Ho entered the familiar office, sensing the familiar scent of whiskey. If I hadn’t left tonight, like last time… That means I could have left after the next game. But… Gi-Hun. How can I save you? He barely had time to look around when the silence was shattered by a ringing phone. The Frontman, however, was not surprised. Donning his mask and gloves, he approached the phone. — Frontman speaking, — he said, lifting the receiver with his right hand. — The VIP-guests are very pleased with the games you’ve prepared for them, — the distorted voice replied. — I’m glad our guests aren’t bored. — Your involvement has pleased them greatly, — the distorted voice continued. — The VIP's have one request for you. In-Ho froze for a moment, gripping the receiver tighter. — Go on. — Sir, continue playing alongside the others. Our guests especially enjoyed… how you show your emotions. They want to see how far you’re willing to go… for him. The dial tone sounded. In-Ho felt his breath catch under the mask. He clenched his gloved fist, forcing himself not to reveal a single reaction. Now everything is different… Every action I take is in plain sight. And every mistake could cost you… Gi-Hun. The game is changing. •••TO BE CONTINUED•••