Chapter Text
I'll show you that the world doesn't always go the way that you want it to go.
If that's what you want, then so be it, but we're not putting you in the game. No, we're going to be playing a game ourselves.
Gi-hun stirs in his sleep, opening his eyes, but his vision remains blurry for a few seconds, prompting him to blink. When he wakes up, the memories of last night hit him like a brick wall. He was in the Frontman's limo, and now he was somewhere else. He sits up, realizing that he's in a bed, and looks down at himself. His clothes from last night were gone, and he was in a suit and tie. He looks around, finding himself in a small room decorated with expensive furniture and beautiful abstract art. There are two doors, one leading to a bathroom and the other leading to the outside.
After a few seconds of looking around, the door opens, and Gi-hun turns, ready for anything.
The Frontman stands before him.
"Player 456. Welcome back. Not what you were expecting, was it?"
Gi-hun climbs off the bed, curling his knuckles into fists. "What is this? Where are we?"
"You're in the VIP area. Don't worry, we mean you no harm. Unless you refuse to cooperate."
"Why didn't you put me in the games?"
"You want to prove that humans aren't bastards, you can't interfere. In the same way, you couldn't interfere when that lady helped that homeless man. We have to let things play out without outside interference. Keeps things fair."
"Where are they? Where are the people?"
"The players are waking up from the slumber right now. Follow me."
The Frontman removes himself from the doorway, and two pink guards take his place, armed with MP5s. A manager steps between them.
"Player 456, follow us, please."
With no other choice, Gi-hun steps into the hallway with walls covered in leather and a floor made of beautiful marble. He follows the Frontman down the hallway, and they step into an elevator, but the pink guards stay behind.
The Frontman stands at the doors with Gi-hun behind him. When the Frontman holds his mask up to the scanner, Gi-hun swirls his tongue in his mouth, making sure the tracker is still in place. Gi-hun's eyes drift down to the Frontman's side, where a rosewood handle belonging to a dagger sticks out of the Frontman's pocket.
"Even if you attack me right now, the games will not end. Even if you took the knife from my pocket and killed me, they'll just appoint a new leader. I already have my officer overseeing the games for me. You're more than welcome to try and kill me, though."
The offer was tempting, so tempting, especially after everything the guards put them through a few years ago, but he had to keep his head. Now wasn't the time to attack, especially in an elevator.
The doors open, and the Frontman walks through. Gi-hun follows and matches the pace of the Frontman. They stop in front of two lounge chairs set up in a large screen TV about the size of a door.
"Have a seat," the Frontman orders without looking at Gi-hun.
Gi-hun creeps up on the Frontman and charges at him. The Frontman turns almost without thinking and catches Gi-hun before throwing him over his hip and to the ground. He pins the man using nothing but his knee as the Frontman snatches the dagger and holds it to his throat.
"I said... have a seat."
Gi-hun's gaze hardens. He wasn't afraid of death, no, but a rational part told him that if he didn't comply, he might not get to stop the games. Then again, as long as he had the tracker on his body, that should buy his team some time.
The Frontman removes the knife and backhands Gi-hun. Gi-hun twitches, and he spits out a tooth. His eyes immediately land on the tooth lying on the ground, but what he sees next makes him freeze in place. It wasn't just any tooth; it was his fake implant.
The tracker was gone.
"Did you really think we wouldn't be thorough? If you die here, you won't get any second chances of trying to kill me again, and the team you had with you will find the island, but only when it's too late and everyone is dead. Now sit down and have a drink; the game is about to begin."
He drags Gi-hun to his feet and shoves him into the lounge chair. Gi-hun keeps his eyes trained on the Frontman, ready to dismantle that edgy mask into bits.
The Frontman sits in the chair beside him and pours a glass of scotch before sliding it towards Gi-hun.
"How could you do this?"
"Still asking the same question and expecting a different answer. Player 456, this is your chance to see for yourself if humanity is worth saving. If humanity is worth being spared from these games. The only difference is that in this game, you can't get involved. But... I've made a few adjustments to the games so you have a fighting chance."
"What did you do?"
The Frontman stays quiet. He plays with the knife in his hands before placing it on the tray next to the scotch glass.
"You'll just have to wait and find out. I would hate to ruin the game for you."
"The game?" Gi-hun snorts. "I'm just thinking back to Oh Il-nam. That homeless man... I told him that... if he lost, I'd kill him."
"And what did you bet?"
"Anything. I told him he might as well take everything I had on me."
"It wasn't just that you bet, it was something else, wasn't it?" The Frontman looks at the suited man. "Your soul. You won, and Oh Il-nam's soul left this world. Why don't we make the same wager? If you win..."
"Then the games end."
"If you win, then you'll have proved me wrong. But if I win..."
"If you win..."
The Frontman looks at him. "Player 456, what will you do should your soul leave you? What would become of you?"
"What difference does it make? One of those players is going to prove to you that we aren't horses."
The Frontman offers a chuckle. "Player 456, this is the wager. If those players down there fail to prove that you're right, then you must take my place."
Gi-hun looks at him, eyes wide. "You mean..."
"You will take my place as the new Frontman. You will oversee the next game, and you will make sure it goes off without a hitch."
Gi-hun stands suddenly, grabbing the knife off the table, ready to use it to kill him, but pauses.
The Frontman stays sitting with his gaze locked on Gi-hun's. "However, if I'm wrong... I'll destroy the island." The Frontman studies Gi-hun's face for any sort of visual reaction. "We have the means to self-destruct the island in case of an emergency, like if the coast guard were to find us. If you win, the island will self-destruct. If you lose, you will take my mask and become the next Frontman. Do you accept these terms?" He takes a brief look at the knife. "Killing me isn't really an option. You could, but it's a pointless option because the wager still stands. So, what's it going to be, Player 456?"
Gi-hun stays standing, gaze focused on the eyeholes of the Frontman's mask, trying to find anything remotely resembling a human being under that mask. Deeply exhaling, Gi-hun puts down the knife and sits in the lounge chair, staring daggers into the television before him, saying nothing until he finally decides to talk.
"I'll take you up on your wager."
The Frontman grabs the remote and turns on the TV, where live footage of the players' living quarters plays on the screen.
"Let the game begin, Player 456."
What's a wake-up call without a little classical music?
None of the players bothered to ask themselves that question when they awoke from their slumber, dazed and confused. Lee Myung-gi pulls himself to a sitting position and looks around the room, where dozens of bunks are stacked in almost every corner of the room except the north side, where two double doors are set up. He pulls himself out of bed and carefully climbs down the steps.
Hundreds of people in blue-green tracksuits with numbers crowd around him like ants, each one looking around, trying to seek answers from someone who might know something.
He fails to notice Kim Jun-hee on the opposite side of the room, sitting on the edge of a bed. Then again, it's kinda hard to recognize and distinguish anyone. Even Jun-hee wasn't completely sure she didn't see Myung-gi in here.
After about one minute of being trapped in a sea of confusion, the doors open with a buzzing sound, and eight pink guards step through.
The workers stand behind the manager as he steps forward.
"I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you."