Chapter Text
Some arguments and debates aren’t held just for one side to win. True satisfaction doesn’t come from proving your opponent wrong—no. It comes at your rival’s breaking point: when they stop believing in their own conviction and begin leaning toward your side of the conflict. In that moment, they either prove you right or themselves wrong. All you have to do is lead them to that edge.
If you desire to change a person-to make them see the bigger picture, you must understand that the most effective way to do so is to let them come to the conclusion on their own, feeling the consequences of their foul choices on their own skin. Fighting you and your ideas might come easy for them, but God knows how long they can endure the fight within themselves before giving in.
This method is simple to apply in real life.
It’s called manipulation.
Effective as much as it has been since the beginning of time.
But it can also backfire.
Prove me wrong. Please. Show me that this horrendous, unjust, and inhumane system—born of ill intent, is not what they all deserve. Show me they are worthy of salvation, that they are more than just the refuse of this rotten world. I want to believe in change, in redemption. I want to believe in people, in love. How can you be so sure of the good in humanity when all you see is despair?
"Make me believe in mankind again. Show me the ray of hope your eyes are so locked on"
But why are these the thoughts of the same man who has been so persistently trying to crush that hope for so long? There are only so many chances a person can be given. So many leaps of faith before they burn out and stop counting on a brighter future.
In-ho has seen far more games than he ever wanted to. He’s watched alliances form, only to be broken or lost in the end. He’s seen the unshakable determination in people’s souls die after their first encounter with loss. He’s witnessed betrayal after betrayal, all justified in the name of selfishness disguised as a will to survive. After all, solid proof usually crushes faith to dust.
Time and again, In-ho placed blind hope in people, clinging to the idea that perhaps something among mankind is still worth saving, but that hope faded along with his humanity and compassion. What Gi-hun… Player 456- tried to accomplish, was a doomed man’s folly. It was a naive and unrealistic dream. But it wasn’t the possibility of completing his plan he was most wrong about. He didn’t miscalculate too much on that aspect as he did on the more crucial one. The people. He surely expected that each and every person in the room would be grateful for what he’s done, presumably even the players who chose to continue the games. It was almost pitiful how he saw himself as a hero and a saviour, but instead of gratitude he’d most likely receive bitterness and vengeance from the very people whom he was trying to save.
“Now, he is finally going to see what he was so hesitant to believe.”
“I won, player 456”.
The frontman exited the elevator, entering his lounge. The lights were dimmed, barely illuminating the room. The screen on the wall remained turned off. The half empty glass of Whiskey stood there the same just as he had left it just those four days ago. He looked at the vintage record player in the corner of the salon. There was a thick layer of dust that must have accumulated over the years. He couldn’t believe he had only noticed that now.
In-ho reached his hand out to reach out for one of the two remotes lying on the table right next to the black, leather couch. He looked at the mat screen right in front of him. Just as he was about to press the button to turn it on, he found a strange force stopping him.
Guilt?
No, that can’t be it. Was he truly that afraid to see the faces of people- no, creatures, that meant to him as much as any inanimate objects? It was his job. He had to finish supervising, and get his foolish, meaningless emotions under control. There are countless things that have to be done or discarded before the VIP’s arrive. He was sure that what he was feeling could be nothing more than stress caused by the frequent insomnia and chaos of the past days.
Maybe that’s why his hand was shaking again.
And that’s why he didn’t find the will to press the button.
*
-Come on dude, press it! We don’t have whole fucking eternity!- A man yelled from behind his back, his voice cracking.
-Please…please do the right thing, I know you’ve got a good heart!- an elderly woman cried faintly, her knees hitting the floor.
- I beg you…
The robotic female voice continued to repeat the same phrase through the PA system:
- “The individual selected as today's voter will grant immunity to one of the two randomly chosen contestants by pressing the chosen button. The other player will be eliminated.”
In-ho looked around the room, countless faces staring at him either with anger, terror or plea. He had no idea what his own expression was. His skin already hurt from all the cuts, bruises and streams of tears. He had no idea what to feel. For whom to feel sorry anymore. He was, in simple words, tired. If he were to describe this kind of fatigue, he’d say it was like falling into an infinite abyss and having your palms too far burned to reach for the rope any more times.
-Jesus Christ, if you don’t hurry, they are going to shoot both of them! Do something already, you coward!- Another man tore his way through the crowd and addressed his fellow contestant.
In-ho looked to his right, locking his eyes with a player separated from the rest of the large group, standing inside one of the two unlit LED umbrella shaped outlines on the linoleum floor. He seemed young and his eyes still held some amount of purity and innocence. In-ho had a reason to believe that this participant was related to the old woman kneeling right outside of the border of the umbrella. His vest showed the number 156, just the same as was projected on a small screen above the button on the right side.
In-ho’s eyes then drifted to the left. There was a fragile looking woman, sitting in the middle of the second umbrella. She was clearly foreign, her round eyes absent and glassy. She didn’t seem to know anybody in the room, at least not on a personal level. Despite her surviving three games already, she appeared famished. She was almost entirely sinking in her uniform, adorned with the number 095.
In-ho tilted his head down and closed his eyes. He could feel his breath speeding up, hands begging to shake again. The ticking of the unforgivable fast timer was starting to be more audible. He turned around. He didn’t even attempt to calm himself down. It wouldn’t have brought any results. There is no way to escape this fate. No way to hide. He gritted his teeth.
-Man, press it!- A scream broke the silence again.
-Please, sir…- a whisper.
-Player 132, have you made your decision?
“How is this fair…”- he thought one last time.
Click.
The umbrella under the young man’s feet lit up with a pleasant sound. The PA system chimed softly.
-”Immunity received by: Player 156. Congratulations!”- the female voice announced melodically. -”Player 095. Eliminated”.
In-ho heard a loud bang behind his back, followed by muffled cries. He didn’t dare to turn around. All the voices in the room came down to one, insufferable distorted noise. He drifted his eyes to the button he was still pressing. Only to be struck with disbelief.
His hand wasn’t shaking anymore.
***
-Hyun-ju, what’s going on with him?- Geum-ja asked with concern, pointing at the trembling figure in the corner.
-I don’t know. -The woman rubbed her temples and sighed in response. Her annoyance was fairly visible through her exhaustion.
The remaining “X” players sitting around the two remained silent, most of them just blankly staring at each other. The heavy silence was only momentarily interrupted by heavy breathing and occasional coughs. The anticipation for whatever awaited them next was simply gruesome. There were questions in the air that everyone wanted to ask, but nobody dared to. Maybe because deep down, they all knew the answer.
-That poor thing, I hope he doesn’t stay there by himself too long. Somebody should check on him if he’s alright. - Geum- ja slowly stood up.
-He’s scared- Jun-hee cut in quietly, and put a hand on the older woman’s shoulder, gently urging her to sit back down.
-I’ll go, don’t worry.
She sent out a small, reassuring smile.
The young girl slowly approached the curled up man in the corner. He was sitting in an empty bed, which now belonged to a presumably deceased player. At first, he didn’t seem to notice Jun-hee next to him. His eyes were distant and lost in fear.
-Dae-ho, are you okay?- the girl asked, causing him to jolt up, his gaze now focused on her. He didn’t answer for some time, seemingly taking his time to gather his thoughts.
-I…don’t know. I don’t know what the hell is happening to me. - He responded in a distressed, shrill voice.
-Do you…want to talk about it?
Dae-ho grabbed the back of his neck with both of his hands.
-You wouldn’t understand anyway. - He shut the girl down.
Jun-hee slightly raised her brow.
- Okay…I’ll go then…
She turned around with uncertainty. Dae-ho’s head immediately shot up.
-No! - He exclaimed after her with a trembling tone.
-N–stay, I'm sorry.
Jun-hee turned back to face him again and invited herself to sit on the edge of the bed, resting her joined hands at her knees. She waited for Dae-ho to speak up, but he just stared at her with resignation, fidgeting with his fingers.
-You don’t have to explain yourself if you don’t want to, I just have to know if you’re gonna be okay. - Jun-hee broke the silence, leaning forward slightly.
-We need you back there, you know.
Dae-ho blinked a couple of times and turned his gaze to his own hands.
-Why would you? I couldn’t even bring the magazines like Hyun-ju asked.
He really felt like a failure. His courage and body betrayed him in the worst possible moment and he wasn’t able to overcome it. When he volunteered to fetch the magazines, deep down he realized it wasn’t an honest act. He wasn’t desperate to help, to sacrifice himself for their cause. He wanted to get out of there. He hated how selfish that was. And now, the people who counted on him and stayed up there, might as well all be dead by this moment.
Jun-hee scooted herself closer to him.
-You went in there with them to fight, even though no one forced you. You’re brave, Dae-ho. And you have a kind soul. - She looked at the young man, but his eyes wandered away from her again.
-It’s not being a Marine that makes you strong, you know?- She added.
-My father would say something different. He’d say that I need to always be able to fight, in order to protect my sisters and my mother. He’s not the type to accept excuses. - Dae-ho chuckled, but without much humor to it.
Jun-hee sent him a faint smile.
-I know we’ve been here for only four days, but… I would like to have you as my brother.
Dae-ho looked at her with slight surprise. He’d never expect anyone to say something like this. When he was a kid, he’d always suspect that his own sisters would prefer to have one of those muscular, handsome and nonchalant bodybuilders from those magazines they used to read as their brother.
-Throughout the whole time we were in this place, I felt safe with you. Thank you for sticking around. I’m sure the rest of them think the same. - Jun-hee tilted her head to gesture on the rest of their allies.
Dae-ho remained quiet, but he looked at the girl with acknowledgment, and his lips curled up into something of a smile. He knew he’ll have to talk to Hyun-ju about those magazines, but the last thing he wanted to do for now is be more of a burden to her.
"Soon. I’ll make this up to you, I swear. To all of you."
It seems like she handled it…- Geum-ja, who has been observing the scene from afar whispered with relief. She then turned to a tall woman next to her.
Ever since she came back to the common room, she’s been marching in circles, anxiously looking at the door every couple of minutes between making sure everyone who decided to stay is still alright.
-Hyun-ju, don’t you want to sit down for a while? You look pale…- Geum-ja placed her and on the woman’s back, momentarily startling her.
-I– I will in a while, I just… It’s been about an hour since I’m back here…
“Since I left them”
-...and they still aren’t back. The gunfire has stopped too. - Hyun-ju tried to sound as monotone as possible, but her voice couldn’t stop trembling no matter how hard she tried. Geum-ja immediately noticed her distress and furrowed her eyebrows.
-It doesn’t have to be a bad thing, dear. Those masked men came to take the rest of our guns, so there must be a huge chaos for them too. Maybe those who went with you are already dealing with the ones in charge?- She tried to reassure her.
-Or maybe they… failed , because I abandoned them mid-combat to come down here.- Hyun-ju’s eyes became glassy and her lips started slowly trembling.
-Just like I did to Young-mi.
-Hey!- Geum-ja firmly grabbed the other woman by her forearms.
-Don’t ever blame yourself for this, or for whatever happened before. You’re the reason we’re all still alive here. Look at me.
Hyun-ju looked down and met her gaze with the older woman’s eyes. The look she was giving her was a look of genuine, motherly affection.
-No matter what happens, I’ll always be proud of you.- Geum-ja pulled the other woman into a tight embrace.
For the first time in this place, Hyun-ju felt tears streaming down her face.
“Thank you”
***