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Hwang In-Ho is many things: a corrupted police officer, a murderer, if you count the countless lives he had taken as Front Man, and when he played these games himself. Yet, despite everything, he still clings to what remains of his “humanity.” Or at least, what can be called humanity in a world steeped in blood and death.
Still, he cannot deny that Player 456 – Seong Gi-Hun – has a point. These games are cruel and fair in their own twisted ways, but undeniably harsh. They expose the darkest side of human nature. It is unfortunate, he thinks, swirling the whiskey in his glass, but then again, the world has never been kind.
A smile graces his lips – not a joyful one, but a sorrowful, rueful curve. He had come to care deeply for Gi-Hun when he was playing these games as Young-Il, and even before that. Rarely had he met someone so kind and foolishly caring as Gi-Hun. Naïve, yes, but with a heart that hasn’t been corrupted by greed and tarnished by the endless deaths that he had witnessed in this brutal world.
After all, this is Gi-Hun’s second time in the games, and he has just lost another close friend. In-ho had expected that he would break now – become a manic lunatic bent on vengeance. Trauma and grief like this have a way of unleashing the monster hidden deep within anyone. But Gi-Hun keeps proving him wrong.
“Let me go!” He hears a voice – quiet almost, yet still brimming with that unyielding fiery spirit. “You won’t win this. These games won’t continue this time around! Jun-Bae’s death--” His voice cracks, heavy with grief and pain. “—it won’t be for nothing.”
In-Ho laughs, but it’s a mirthless laugh. Empty. Hollow. He isn’t a monster, but he knows he’s far from a hero. A villain in the eyes of many, and they aren’t wrong to see him that way. His games have claimed so many lives; over four thousand lives, and that is a truth he has to live with. He never took pleasure in the killing, but what choice did he have? The games demand what they demand, and sometimes, that means sparing and taking lives to ensure the whole damn thing keeps running.
“I will,” In-Ho finally says, deciding there’s no better time than now to speak. He has allowed Gi-Hun a few minutes to simmer in his anger. “Now you see what your little hero’s journey has led to. I didn’t want to kill your friend, but I had to teach you a lesson.”
Gi-Hun scoffs, squirming in his seat, futilely trying to loosen the ropes around his hands and legs to no avail. “Teach me a lesson?” he yells, tears streaming angrily down his cheeks, his voice raw with pain, and edged with rage. “By killing Jun-Bae?! You should have just killed me. Just kill me, already. Isn’t that what you want, you monster! Killing people for the joy of it.”
He expects this. His poor Gi-Hun is hurt, but not broken. In-Ho admires him for that. “You were the one who begged to come back. The one who tried to stop the games. The one who started this little rebellion of yours.” He sighs, lifting the whiskey glass to eye level, staring into it, as though it holds all the answers. “I warned you, Gi-Hun. Join me. Become Front Man, and maybe you can change the way things are run.”
“I will never!” Gi-Hun struggles in his chair, trying to break free. “I was naïve, dumb, and I regret the lives lost for my blindness, my poorly executed plan. But I will never become one of you! Ever! Jun Bae, Young-Il, they all died for this, and I won’t betray them like this,” he says, voice thick with emotion.
Young-Il. Hearing that name cuts through him, sharper than any blade. Even though being Young-Il was just an act; for a brief time, he had felt like he belonged – like he was a part of a family again. A part of him feels guilty for betraying that short-lived connection. For betraying Gi-Hun. Sweet, trusting Gi-Hun.
In another life, before his world had become this bleak and dark, Gi-Hun and he could have been good friends. Maybe even more. He can’t deny it – he was drawn to the man both for his looks and for his foolish courage. Not to mention, his bleeding heart.
“I understand your reluctance to accept my offer,” he says, his voice calm yet laced with something darker. “But will you just sit back and watch your friends die? Because with just a click of this—” He points to the walker. “—I can radio in and end their lives.”
Gi-Hun screams, and it shatters what’s left of In-Ho’s heart – well, the half-beating one, anyway. “I won’t let you! I’ll kill you!”
He laughs – a hollow, dark sound. “Maybe this will change your mind,” he murmurs, his hand reaching to pull off his mask. He doesn’t want to break Gi-Hun – who is already drowning in grief and trauma. But he has to do this, for Gi-Hun to join his side because this is the only way to bring down the games. And despite anything, he is not a monster; he won’t kill any of them. Not the ones who he had come to feel like family. Jun-Bae’s death is one he deeply regrets.
Slowly, almost reverently, he lifts the mask off his face. He dreads the moment Gi-Hun sees the truth – the moment he realizes that Young-Il was nothing more than a lie, a carefully crafted persona created by In-Ho. It pierces his chest, like a shard of glass, splintering his heart into a thousand jagged pieces.
“You—” Gi-Hun’s eyes widen in shock. His lips tremble, his face draining of color, as tears well up again. He crumbles in on himself, collapsing like a sack of potatoes. “It can’t be. Young-Il… No, no… You can’t be… it can’t be… It’s all a lie. You monster!”
“I really am sorry, Gi-Hun,” In-Ho says quietly, his voice thick with regret. “Truly. I enjoyed my time playing the games again, and our friendship. But you trusted too easily. I wanted to show you what happens when you’re too soft, too good, in a world like this.”
“You’re a monster!” Gi-Hun sobs, his voice breaking with the weight of it all. “You played with us… with me. You killed Jun-Bae – did you kill the others, too?”
In-Ho’s gaze drops, staring blankly at the tinted glass floor beneath them.
“You did,” Gi-Hun whispers, his voice soft and broken, as though he is slowly realizing the full depth of the betrayal. “How could you?! They trusted you. We all did. You absolute monster! You even played around with me. Were we just a game to you? Was everything between us a game to you?”
He sighs deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of everything he has done. “No, at first, it was all just a game,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But then I became a part of your circle, and things changed. You almost became family to me. And those two short nights we spent together – just talking – were real. I’ll admit it, at times, I wanted to kiss you, wipe your tears away, be the reason that you smiled. But I knew I couldn’t get that close to you. I never wanted to hurt you, Gi-Hun. I never wanted any of this. You might not believe me – and I wouldn’t blame you. But know this: I care for you, more than you’ll ever know. If we had met under different circumstances, I’d have serenaded you, given you whatever you desired. But that’s not our reality. And I know I’ll never have your heart. Nor do I deserve it.”
Gi-Hun’s voice trembles, quiet but firm. “You don’t kill your family. You don’t threaten to kill them! You’re a monster and I’ll never allow you back in my life, not like that! Not ever!”
“I deserve that,” he replies softly, his voice heavy with regret. “And I don’t blame you. But Gi-Hun, please – believe me when I say this: you won’t be able to take down these games unless you work with me. You don’t have to like me. You can hate me for the rest of your life. But reconsider my offer. Become Front Man and I’ll help you end this. I’ll help you destroy them – the games, the people in charge, the VIPS, everyone… everything!”
Gi-Hun falters momentarily, almost as if he is considering his offer. He shakes his head, eyes clouded with confusion and pain. “No, I can’t,” he says brokenly. “You… I can’t trust you anymore.”
“It’s the only way,” he says softly, his voice calm and almost soothing. ‘I’ll leave you to think about it. Hopefully, by the time I return, you’ll have changed your mind. But remember this: I never once stopped caring for you. I may have only spent a short time with you, but those moments were some of the happiest I’ve had since my wife passed. They were a rare glimpse of light before I became… this. A person trapped – perhaps even choosing to remain – within this world. Thank you, Gi-Hun. For everything.”
Gi-Hun says nothing, and In-Ho knows he deserves that silence. He slips his mask back on, the cold, familiar weight of it settling over his face like a final barrier between them. As he turns to leave, a quiet vow forms in his mind: he will give everything to protect Gi-Hun. Gi-Hun won’t die on his watch. He will make sure of it.