𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

***

That night, Gi-Hun slept restlessly again, tossing and turning. A sticky sweat appeared on his forehead, and his breathing grew uneven. In his dream, he found himself once more in the hall of the third game. The decorations, which had once seemed harmless, now appeared sinister: the colors were too bright, cutting sharply at his eyes, and the horse faces were twisted into menacing grins. The players rotated slowly on the platform to a familiar children’s song, dragging on disgustingly slowly. The creak of the mechanism only intensified the headache. Suddenly, the platform jerked to a stop. Many stumbled and fell. A female voice came over the loudspeaker, slightly distorted, treacherously loud as it announced the countdown. — "10! 9! 8!..." Each number echoed in his temples, drowning out everything else. His heart pounded in panic, as if it would burst from his chest. — Run, Gi-Hun! — a voice, distant but similar to Jung-Bae’s, reached him. Yet the words sounded muffled, as if being swallowed by thick material, as if his ears were filled with cotton. He dashed forward. His legs barely obeyed, strength rapidly leaving his body, and every attempt to speed up felt like a desperate plunge through viscous, disgusting swamp. I won’t make it. I’ll lose. And suddenly, a door creaked open. A familiar hand grabbed his forearm and yanked him inside. For a moment, it seemed darker and tighter in the room than outside, as if he had fallen into a trap. But catching his breath, Gi-Hun saw a familiar face. Opposite him stood Yeong-Il. — Are you okay? — he asked, looking at Gi-Hun with concern. — I’m fine, — Gi-Hun nodded, trying to steady his breathing. — I’m okay. Outside, sharp, deafening gunshots rang out. The sound hit so hard it felt like the walls couldn’t contain it, and Gi-Hun’s ears were blocked. The hallways filled with a roar and the pounding of countless feet, accompanied by screams that shredded voices. Soldiers mercilessly shot those who failed to hide. Suddenly, the bright light from the children’s decorations went out, as if someone had flipped a switch. The room was swallowed by a dense darkness, where every sound made his heart painfully freeze with fear. Player 456 swallowed hard, afraid even to peek through the door crack. — Don’t be afraid, — Yeong-Il whispered softly. — They won’t touch us here. His hand gently touched Gi-Hun’s shoulder. Yeong-Il’s extraordinary ability to remain calm even in such a moment now gave a feeling of safety. Their eyes met. — I’ll protect you, Gi-Hun. I’ll protect you. Suddenly, the noise outside ceased. There were no more gunshots, no more desperate cries. — Is… it over? — Gi-Hun whispered. — I think so, — Yeong-Il replied, though his voice wavered, as if he weren’t entirely sure. — I’m afraid to go outside. — Let’s do it together, — Yeong-Il whispered. — Take my hand. Gi-Hun froze, staring at the outstretched hand. Hesitating slightly, he reached out, their fingers intertwining. Yeong-Il gave only a faint smile, not averting his gaze. The click of a lock rang deafeningly in the silence. They peered out of the room cautiously. Gi-Hun looked around in confusion — no corps, no blood, only a dense, dark forest stretching for miles. A gentle wind rustled the treetops, carrying the fresh scent of pine and damp earth. Birdsong seemed almost unreal after the dead silence and gunfire. — What… is this? — player 456 whispered, barely believing his eyes. Is this even… possible? — Looks like we made it out, — Yeong-Il whispered, squeezing his hand tighter. He himself could hardly believe what he was seeing. Gi-Hun stepped forward, straightening his shoulders. Sunlight pierced through the treetops, the wind gently playing with his hair, bringing a sense of freshness and long-awaited freedom. The long burden of fear seemed to vanish from his chest, and for the first time in ages, he breathed truly freely. — Look… we’re free, Yeong-Il… we’re free! — he exclaimed joyfully, pulling his companion along, grinning. Player 456 ran ahead. They ran along the path deep into the forest, still holding hands, and the warmth and calm in their hearts reflected that. Time seemed to stand still. The path led them to a wide clearing surrounded by tall trees. Sunlight illuminated thousands of wildflowers in every shade, as if greeting their arrival. A light breeze rustled the grass and petals, gently brushing Gi-Hun’s hair and cooling his skin. The forest truly seemed alive — breathing, real, and free from the chains of fear and oppression. Stopping to catch their breath, Gi-Hun turned to Yeong-Il. — This place… it’s wonderful, — he whispered, as if a loud voice might disrupt the harmony. Yeong-Il silently nodded, closing his eyes. Sunlight gently touched his face, and the breeze softly tickled his cheeks, prompting a faint smile. — I’m glad we made it out. They lay down on the soft green grass, gazing up at the sky. — Yeong-Il… — Gi-Hun spoke again. — Do you think the others made it out too? — I think so, — he replied, thoughtfully watching the clouds. — Maybe their doors led them… somewhere they can be happy. His gaze shifted to Player 456’s face. — Gi-Hun… and will we be happy? Will… we be happy? Those words made Gi-Hun’s heart beat faster. He turned to Yeong-Il, their eyes meeting. — Of course we will… He nodded, as if convincing himself it was so. Their palms slowly met, fingers intertwining. The gentle wind swayed the grass around them, rustling the leaves as if playing along. Yeong-Il leaned closer. — Gi-Hun… When their faces were too close, he closed his eyes, leaning slightly, and gently kissed his lips. Gi-Hun felt as if he could hear Yeong-Il’s heartbeat echoing in his own chest. Unconsciously, he ran a hand along Yeong-Il’s nape, fingers sliding through soft hair, gently pressing his head closer. In this quiet moment, amidst the dense forest, the whisper of the wind, and a sea of flowers, it felt as though the whole world existed only for them. Yeong-Il. Yeong-Il… Somewhere high in the sky, the long call of a crane echoed. Gi-Hun pulled back briefly, raising his gaze. — Do you think birds can keep secrets? — Yeong-Il asked with a slight smile, making Gi-Hun blush. — Hey…! — Gi-Hun murmured, laughing softly. At that moment, a familiar morning melody sounded from afar. The world blurred, like morning fog, and the forest, cranes, and Yeong-Il vanished. He slowly opened his eyes. The restless pounding of feet and voices of players gradually returned him to reality. Breathing unevenly, he touched his lips with his fingers, still feeling the warmth of the kiss. His heart beat a little faster, a gentle, fluttering warmth remaining in his chest. In-Ho sat nearby, thoughtfully observing the room. Jung-Bae peeked out from under the neighboring bed. — Huh... Is it already time to get up? — he mumbled sleepily, stretching. Next came Dae-Ho and Jun-Hee. Gi-Hun quietly approached the Frontman and sat beside him, lightly touching the host’s shoulder. — Hey… why didn’t you wake me? — he asked with interest. — You were really scared after the third game yesterday, — In-Ho replied softly. — So I took the watch, and when I needed to go to the restroom, I woke your friend. — I see… — Gi-Hun pondered, tugging at the edge of his shirt. — You always save me. Thank you… I guess I owe you. — Well… — In-Ho smiled faintly, leaning slightly closer. — When we get out of here, drinks are on you. Gi-Hun smiled gently, nudging his shoulder. — You’re so sly! He glanced once more at In-Ho, feeling warmth beside him, almost like in the dream. Yeong-Il. When we get out of here, I will never forget this moment. The Frontman averted his gaze. He didn’t want Gi-Hun to see how tension gripped him from within, how his heart seemed to beat faster, and his thoughts tangled with memories of the night’s conversation and the VIPs’ demands. They are watching me now. Watching you. I allowed myself too much. I got caught. But I will stay close, even if danger threatens us both. I will play these games with you, Gi-Hun. •••TO BE CONTINUED•••