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"I was only curious to know how it started. Now I know. Feelings can creep up just like that."
-In the mood for love (2000)
Every year In-ho looked over hundreds of files of hundreds of desperate people in debts they would never be able to pay. Every year he watched hundreds of tapes of hundreds of people getting slapped in the face and receiving the most important opportunity of their pitiful lives.
Player 456 was nobody. Nobody. He was a merely memorable man who no one bothered to bet on. A tiny fish swimming among thousands of his own in a vast and terrifying ocean, who was certainly going to be eaten by a shark pretty soon. One more green suit soon to be stained red. Player 456 was just another player among 455 others. 2020 was just another year. And it was just one more game to add to the archives.
Now, four years later, the bitter warmth of the alcohol washes over his throat, while his gaze is fixated on the desperate man who is no longer just a number, playing for a second time as a returning winner, foolishly trying to save as many lives as he could in Red Light, Green Light.
“Freeze!”
In-ho leans over the fancy leather chair and he can’t help but wonder. When did this mess start? When did he allow this man to become such an issue to the point where he’s willing to go back in the games with him? When did it all change?
He really can't remember the first time he noticed him. Was it when he got into the first fight between the players with that young girl and some gangster? Or maybe when player 199 saved his life in the last seconds of the first game? He remembers he found it quite impressive. Either way, what made In-Ho unintentionally pay attention to this player was Il-nam. He decided to play that year like it was his dying wish. “I’m not going to have as much fun watching as playing.” In-ho never really understood that. And he never understood why he went to 456’s neighborhood on that rainy day. Why convince this particular player to go back in the game? Was there another reason or was it just because 456 was the only one that befriended him?
It was a fact that anybody who is smart enough wouldn't team up with an old man with a brain tumor in a game of life and death. If the player 456 was a bit smarter than he looked, as soon as he got back to the game, he surely would understand the risks, break the alliance with the old man and choose new teammates.
Well, that wasn't the case. In-ho made quick observations about Il-nam’s team. It was a decent group. Player 199 was physically strong but too naive for his own good. Player 218 was actually the one In-ho would bet on. He was rational, strategic and was willing to do whatever it takes to survive. He reminded him too much of himself. Surprisingly, he was childhood friends with the player 456. That was definitely going to be interesting. And about that one, well, he was a lucky bastard, that’s for sure. Far too ingenuous. His kindness would be his biggest enemy. He wouldn't last long.
But one thing In-ho remembers well was the first time of many that his eyes were glued on him. Second game, Dalgona.The poor man chose the umbrella shape. Just like he thought, 456 wouldn’t last long. But it turned out, the man could be smart. He had this brilliant idea to use his tongue to soft the dessert. It was surprising. It was almost certain that everyone who chooses the umbrella in this game dies. Nobody ever thought about that, it was a very good strategy. And suddenly, every player around him, noticing it was working, started copying his tactics, even Il-nam. It was… uncomfortable to watch that scene around all the guards. But, despite the discomfort, he kept his eyes fixated on 456’s screen, as if he was hypnotized by the view of his knees and elbows on the ground, licking as fast as he could, in total despair, like his life depended on it, and it did. He was giving everything he had to finish in time. It was agonizing yet enthralling. Or was it enthralling because it was agonizing?
The honeycomb dissolved with the saliva mixed with his sweat and tears. He finally succeeded. Then, trembling, he showed the sweet wet umbrella to the guard and that’s when In-ho realized he didn’t break his stare once through all this time. Blinking behind his mask, he quickly changed his attention to some other screen.
“A man just died! We shouldn’t be killing each other like this!”
He remembers. It was like he was looking right into his eyes. That was the first time 456 acknowledged him. Acknowledged the ones who were watching. The people behind the cameras. The ones beyond the guards. The ones who pull their pink puppet strings. The ringleaders. The real enemy. The prey became aware of the predator.
Everybody else stayed quiet. They were shocked and frightened but they remained quiet. He was the only one begging for attention, for justice. The only one who cared about a man who was beaten to death. A man he never had spoken to. So many have died by then, why did he still care so much?
It was always interesting to watch how far the human being can go to keep themselves alive. Or better, how low. Unlike the VIPs, who find the game of marbles extremely boring, it was In-ho’s favourite. To watch the players choosing the ones who they trust the most or someone who they think is the strongest or smartest, only for them to be forced to pick one to die. It’s not like he takes pleasure watching people surfer, that was never the case, but it was fascinating how their eyes change once they understand the rules of the game. Only one will survive. You could see the thoughts running behind their desperate sight. The awkwardness of it all. There were the ones who were ready to give up on their lives for the other, they were few but they existed. And there were the ones who would do anything to win. Who would make the sacrifice? Who would outsmart the other?
As the pairs were being formed, In-ho planned to keep an eye on the pair with the players 218 and 199. He knew 218 would win one way or another but In-ho was curious to see how he would do it.
He also wanted to watch the pair with the players 69 and 70, that was the one with the husband and wife. In-ho deliberately chose every year to bring close people together to put them in some kind of test. To see what they choose to do in these extreme circumstances was always very interesting.
As In-ho watched them, he avoided the shy forbidden thought that crossed his mind and was quickly casted away. A thought that brought back his haunting nightmares. "If it was me and her, she was so stubborn, how would I manage to get her to let me make the sacrifice?"
The initial plan was for Il-Nam not to play this game, so he could go back upstairs and meet with the VIPs who would arrive soon. That would be easy because naturally he wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice, so he isolated himself and waited.
But someone did offer his hand to him. Without knowing what the game would be, and the danger he could be putting himself into, player 456 picked Il-nam to play. How foolish can a man be? With that attitude In-ho was surprised he was still alive.
He knew Il-nam would lose on purpose, he wasn’t supposed to be playing anymore. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to have a little fun. His last one. He gave the opportunity for 456 to cheat on the game. And he did it, the player took the bait. He suffered while doing it but that doesn't change the fact that he did it. Fascinating, the old man really made the caring man care for himself first. It was taking a while but the games did it at last. And it always will without failing. Reveal the true self of a person. The one who only comes to light when your survival instinct hits. You do what it takes to survive. You do the ugly and the evil and that’s the truth of humanity. You do what it takes to win and that’s the real nature of the human being. The base instinct of mankind is the survival instinct. And every year it was proven right because the game was nothing more than a mirror of the world. It was satisfying to see 456 finally coming through. Until…
“Player 456 wants to stop the game”
In-ho was unmovable, not looking up at a screen now but looking down from the glass window with a stiff aching shoulder, ignoring the VIP’s stupid comments. He just stood there, watching.
Why…? He couldn’t understand why someone would sacrifice all the prize money after everything they’ve been through in the game to get there. All the humiliation, the pain, the deaths. Sacrifice everything for someone who wouldn’t do the same for him. Someone who hurt you, who killed your ally without any remorse and was determined to kill you, just like you also were seconds ago. Player 456 chose to forgive. He chose to walk out without a single won and go back to his miserable life if it meant that the other man would stay alive. If it meant he could go back with him.
Player 218 stabbed himself on the throat, player 456 is the winner of the 33rd Squid Game.
His cry echoed in in-ho’s ears. And he just stood there.
Anomaly. That’s what he was. Different from what is usual. Abnormal. A deviation from the common rule. He was an unexpected outcome in decades of experiments with the same results. Experiments which In-ho was working and studying for years now. The player was daring to challenge his beliefs of the world.
And that’s the answer. That’s the moment when everything changed. Gi-hun’s cry never stopped echoing in In-ho’s ears.
In-ho remembers their first meeting in the limo. Unmasked while Gi-hun was blindfolded.
“You should celebrate.” In-ho started, breaking the silence when he noticed the man had woken up. “It was quite the game there.”
“Why? Why did you do it?” Gi-hun, still disoriented, asked. “How can you?”
“You bet on horses.” That caught his attention. “It’s the same here but we bet on humans. You are our horses. I did not expect you to finish your race.” He said honestly.
“Who are you?”
In-ho stared at his drink for a while.
“It was a dream. Think of it that way.” He said almost softly. “And really wasn't a bad one for you either.”
“Who are you?” He insisted.
Does he really think I’m going to answer that? In-ho put his mask back on.
“Who are you?” Gi-hun kept begging for an answer until he was forced to fall unconscious once more by the sleep gas.
He watched as the man’s face relaxed again and his body slowly slumped over the seat.
In-ho stared for a while, then reached for his pocket, pulled out the winner’s card and crouched in front of the unconscious man. At that time, he thought that he would never see him again. It was their first and last meeting. So he took his time to study every single facet of Gi-hun that he could. His fluffy hair framed his face messily. Even asleep he looked troubled. It was quite a ride for the poor man. In-ho understood for he was once in his place. With his gloved hands, he took his messy hair out of his forehead, traced his fingers down to his cheeks, cupped the man’s jaw between his thumb and index finger and gently with a little pressure he parted his lips. It was impossible not to remember the scene of his tongue working on the honeycomb. That image . Even through the leather glove, he could feel how warm his mouth was around his fingers. In-ho’s chest went up and down in shallow breaths. He carefully pressed his tongue down and pushed the card into Gi-hun’s mouth, almost down his throat, wetting his leather glove with saliva.
Back on the island, In-ho decided that he wanted to go over everything about Gi-hun again. Rewatch everything. Every single conversation the cameras were able to get and his role in every game. He started by studying his file, actually reading this time. Seong Gi-hun. 47 years old. Seoul. One daughter. Divorced. Unemployed. Two failed businesses. Chauffeur. Total debt: four hundred and fifteen million won.
Then, he watched his recruitment. He noticed that his face was already bruised with a little dry blood on his nose when the recruiter approached him, like he had been beaten hours earlier. And he noticed he was really bad at ddakji. It was slap after slap. You could see the embarrassment hidden in his eyes, the whole thing was humiliating. Red began to take over the man's left cheek and ear while his nose was seconds away from returning to bleed. In-ho was completely fixated on the screen by now. He noticed Gi-hun had a certain habit of always fixing his hair, trying to brush it out of his eyes. It was amusing to see how he fixed it before the slap ruined it over and over again. There was something strange growing inside In-ho wishing it was him instead, the one who was slapping Gi-hun. The more red flushed into the man’s skin, the more need he felt. A strange and violent need. And then, he finally flipped the card. It was a contagious and entertaining euphoria yet concerning. Gi-hun was too easily satisfied and that's why his life was the way it was.
And then it was time to rewatch all the games again. Lingering on every single detail he had missed the first time. The way he talked about childhood with player 218, how he cried and trembled when he was in panic, his trust in people, his optimism which could be better called naivety. Everything. He especially liked to watch the moment he yelled at the camera. “Can’t you hear me? A man just died! We shouldn’t be killing each other like this!” He kept looking at his desperate eyes. Kept replaying this scene over and over again, he didn’t know why. His heart pounded like a drum, loudly and fast inside his chest each time. It was like he was searching for something but he didn’t know what yet.
Embarrassingly, he also caught himself rewatching the Dalgona game a few times. It was all part of the study, he would tell himself.
In-ho has had nightmares almost every night since he became a winner in 2015. They vary sometimes but overall they are all the same. He's at the field wearing his green coat with ‘132’ sewn on it, ready to play Squid Game but his opponent is Jun-ho. They fight. And they keep fighting until Il-nam forces him to kill his little brother. Then, he's playing marbles with his wife but the marbles keep magically appearing in his hands. He throws them away, tries to put them in her hands but with the nonsense that only dreams have, they instantly get back into his. No matter how much he would fight he wasn't able to save her. This night wasn’t so different, but something odd happened.
“Please, make it stop!” In-ho’s wife started to cry.
“I’m trying, I'm trying!” The marbles bounced on the ground.
“Come back In-ho, so we can both be happy.”
“I can't.” He fell on his knees, hands hiding his face, now he was the one crying.
Then, her gentle arms embraced him in a hug. Such a comfortable place to be, he realizes that’s what misses the most. He cried on her shoulder, not caring about wetting her clothes.
“Please make it stop, In-ho.”
He heard between his sobs, but that was not her voice.
In-ho let go of the hug.
“I can’t take it anymore, please stop this.” It was Gi-hun, with those desperate, captivating eyes of his.
“You already won Gi-hun, it's over, you’re free.”
“It’s never over. Because of you I will never be free.”
In-ho didn't answer, instead he returned to picking up the marbles on the ground with one hand while the other grabbed Gi-hun's wrist placing them on his palm.
“You will never let me go, will you?” Gi-hun asked.
All In-ho did was shake his head slowly to the sides.
“I hope not.” Gi-hun said.
In-ho looked up. Gi-hun was close now, too close. He grabbed In-ho's face with his jaw between his fingers and without breaking eye contact, he licked In-ho's lips. His tongue slowly went from his bottom lip to his upper lip.
Then, suddenly, Gi-hun looked down and said “Look! All the marbles are in my hand. I won!”
That night, In-ho woke up soaked in sweat. He looked to his side, the clock digitally marked 4:55. He waited. 4:56. His eye twitched. In-ho stared at it. Stared at the number without looking away for a whole minute. 4:57. He sighed, closing his eyes, dragging his head back to the pillow. He felt sick.
He spent his weeks compulsively watching the footage while also supervising Gi-hun's moves as a new billionaire, just like they do with all the winners. They were all little numbers on their map. It’s too much information to just let it loose. So everything about how they lived their lives post game was supervised. It’s all protocol. Though, the protocol didn’t include all the extra dedication In-ho was giving to his special number.
While most previous winners, blinded by enthusiasm, would spend their prize carelessly, Gi-hun seemed like he was pretending he didn’t win anything. He simply wasn’t spending it. Avoiding at all costs to acknowledge his new financial status. Living practically like a homeless person. Cutting ties with everyone he knew. Why? Why live like this? Why not make good use of what he worked hard to get? He earned that money. Why deprive himself of a good life? It's not like it would bring anyone back.
Later, more details about Gi-hun’s trajectory post game were delivered to In-ho.The reason why he went back to play after the voting was because his mother was sick and he needed money for her treatment. But unfortunately when he got back it was too late. It appeared that he found her dead body in their house the same day he returned. The same day they talked in the limo. Learning this information made In-ho's stomach sink. He couldn't help the flashbacks of his own past, he just couldn't help. The memories began to surface, raw and relentless in his mind. Her heartbeat. The wires. Doctors. Debts. A crowd of eyes filled with pity towards him.
It was too much. It was becoming too much now. First, Jun-ho, his little brother, came to the island, bringing back waves of memories he worked so hard to bury. Memories of a life he could never go back. Jun-ho didn't want to come with him. In-ho shot him. He had to. He wasn’t trying to kill him but he had to get rid of him somehow. It was too much. Then, the winner, Seong Gi-hun, who is addictively messing with his head. Making him feel something. He was making him feel. And it was gross. It was nauseating. He was losing control. And he hated Seong Gi-hun for that.
After this day he stopped. Stopped the madness he was getting himself into. There were more important things to do than obsessively watching a winner who didn't even act like one. He finally put an end to it. I must not think of Seong Gi-hun . From now on his only focus is doing his job.
And about Jun-ho, there couldn’t be any more distractions. After In-ho shot him, he ordered the captain not only to make sure he stayed alive but to make sure he would never get close to the island again. He caused enough problems as it is.
It was Christmas Eve, one year later, Il-nam invited Gi-hun to his deathbed and shared his last breaths with the man. In-ho was in the building. Though he didn't see Gi-hun’s face, he almost did. Downstairs, waiting for the meeting to be over, In-ho wondered what if they crossed the same hallway, or if they met on the elevator? What if their eyes met just once? Just one quick glance, that would be enough to satisfy him. No. I must not think of Seong Gi-hun.
What really happened was that he waited outside. He was going to watch it later anyways, everything was always recorded. And when Gi-hun finally left at midnight, all In-ho saw was his back. The snow danced in the light, conducted by the gentle wind, and landed on Gi-hun's longer hair while he slowly walked away, probably trying to process everything that just happened there. It was a delightful scene, the Christmas lights were reflecting on the building’s windows and the streets were empty. By that time, everybody else had a place to go, they were the only ones in the neighbourhood, but Gi-hun didn’t even notice him on the sidewalk. In-ho almost followed him, his feet started walking like they had a mind of their own, but after three steps he stopped. I’m in control . And so he kept staring at his figure walking away as it became smaller and smaller.
Months later, the preparations for the next game began. In-ho was in his office with four square guards working on the recruitment of the players. He always has to listen to the telephone lines during this process. It’s a long and tedious work. Every year is the same. Hundreds of files, hundreds of tapes.
But then, something happened.
“Seong Gi-hun. October 31, 1974.”
What? Inho stopped everything he was doing. He couldn't believe the words he was hearing.
The guard who answered the phone turned his head to look at him, asking for directions to proceed.
“Listen carefully. I’m not a horse. I’m a person. That’s why I wanna know…” he took a deep breath. “...who you people are.”
What the hell is he doing?
“And how you can do these horrible things to people.” There was hatred woven into each word coming out of his mouth, putting them together, giving him strength.
Abruptly, In-ho put himself on the line.
“Player 456.” There was a little gasp, yes, it is me. “Don’t get any absurd ideas.”
“It wasn’t a dream. I can’t forgive you… for everything you’re doing.”
He really remembers every single word they shared in that car, doesn't he? In-ho wondered if that moment crosses his mind as much as it does on his. He thought he was beyond this but Gi-hun’s voice spoke so close to his ears, repeating the things he told him one year ago. It did something to In-ho. It made something rekindle inside of him. Everything is coming back. Gi-hun needs to leave.
“Just get on that plane. It’s for your own good.” And mine .
He hung up. And now he’s walking the other way. Is this man insane?
Gi-hun was doing so well. After the meeting with Il-nam he finally started to spend his money. He helped the families of the other players and later bought a one-way ticket to the United States to be with his daughter. All this information was brought by the guards to him during the occasional winners updates. In-ho didn’t go after them anymore but everytime he heard his name during these reports his ears became attentive, like a predator feeling the prey’s presence, catching every single detail he could.
In-ho called him again. It took him three beeps to answer.
“Where do you think you’re going? You’ve got no place to go.”
“Don’t hide like a sneaky little rat. Show yourself.”
“You should’ve gotten on that plane. You will regret your decision.” In-ho warned. He genuinely wished Gi-hun would let things go the way he did. He's making this personal. It shouldn't be. There's no revenge to be taken. No one ever obligated anyone to participate.
“I’m going to find you. No matter what it takes.” Gi-hun said with such determination, like it was a promise.
Things were going so well but it's like Gi-hun feels the need to always make things harder than it needs to be. Right after their conversation Gi-hun got rid of the tracker that was once behind his ears, now forever lost in Seoul’s sewers. He got rid of the phone he made the call, and then, he withdrew all the money from his account all at once. All of this as an attempt to not be watched. He would have to do way more than that.
His voice echoed like a ghost in In-ho’s mind. “I'm going to find you.” Then, it echoed again, but now from the call recorder. Replaying. “I'm going to find you.” And again . “I'm going to find you.” He took his promise as a challenge, but truly felt like a trap. And he fell right into it, like an addict relapsing.
I must not think of Seong Gi-hun was a mantra that from that moment on he no longer seemed to be able to follow. What blame could he take if his object of study was also studying him? This sick obsession wasn’t one-sided anymore.
It took Gi-hun two years. Two long years to finally find them. He allowed himself to spend the money only when it was for something that its purpose would benefit the searching. So, he brought a run-down hotel, dozens of cameras, phones, guns and hired an entire crew to search for the recruiter. A crew led by the same guy who tortured him a few years ago. What kind of person does that? He proved himself to still be naive to believe that he was in the dark. Gi-hun might have his cameras but In-ho had his, plenty of them spread across the streets. They were all aware of the search. But after two years of hard work, Gi-hun found the recruiter at last. And on his birthday, he got to talk to the frontman once more, just like he wished.
"Player 456. Do you remember? We once spoke in this car."
Gi-hun's eyes glanced around, what it looked like being able to see the scenario from years of haunted memories. Like being lost in a dark room and someone suddenly turns on the light.
“Was it this car? It's nicer than I remember."
Gi-hun had lost a lot of weight during these 4 years. His hair is cutted short. In-ho could see it through the pig’s camera. He looked exhausted, like someone who’s been smoking too many cigarettes and a good night of sleep became a distant memory of the past or more like a fairytale. His eyes were darker with loneliness and a hunger for revenge. He posed with cold determination but it was transparent that he was drowning in grief, pain and exhaustion. Conflict washed over In-ho’s heart. Can a person feel guilt and satisfaction at the same time?
"I sincerely hoped you'd have a good life. I hoped you'd forget everything that happened and be happy." In-ho said and it was true. He meant every word.
"I didn't know you cared so much about me. I'm almost moved to tears." Gi-hun answered with words marked by sarcasm and bitterness.
In-ho expected that attitude. Gi-hun was a stubborn and difficult person to reason with. At least that’s how he was towards In-ho. So, he repeated what he said to him the last time they talked knowing it was going to irritate him.
"You should have gotten on that plane. That's the best choice you could have made."
"I have never forgotten... what you said to me then. That's why I wanted to see you so badly."
In- ho’s heart skipped a beat hearing such a choice of words coming out of Gi-hun’s mouth. All his hatred directed towards him and In-ho couldn’t help but feel pleased.
“Now that we're here, say what you want to say. What do you want from me?”
Gi-hun leaned forward. “Stop the game.”
“The game?”
“The game you’ve been playing. The one I know is still going on to this day.”
“All we did was create it. All of you participated by choice.” In-ho already expected the conversation to go down that road. But he was more than willing to explain his side to him. To make him understand that whatever plan he's been working on was a waste of his time. It was doomed to fail.
“Don’t give me that shit.” He answered right away like he had heard this before and was sick of it. “You manipulate people who feel like they’re at a dead end. You drive them to their deaths and enjoy it. You think if you just call it their own choice your filthy game will become some sort of charity event?”
“They were all just losers of the game. Trash eliminated from the competition. A ton of new trash is being poured into the world as we speak. You still don’t see it, do you? The game will not end unless the world changes.”
“That’s a story created by people like you. You think people are just horses in a race, and you own the horses.”
“You’ve become more eloquent. So is your plan to convince the owners of the horses to stop the race?” Suddenly gunshots. Gi-hun looked to the side, concerned, someone was talking to him in his ear piece. “Or were you planning to kidnap me?” In-ho asked in a mocking tone, smirking behind the mask.
Gi-hun demanded to stop the car. He didn’t waste time and quickly fired his gun, but it was useless.
“Do you think you can stop the games with a pistol?”
Realization hit his face. He slowly put down his gun. Nothing more could be done. He failed.
“Put me back in the game.”
In-ho paused. He would’ve been lying if he said that wasn’t unexpected. “Weren’t you telling me to stop the game just a second ago?”
“What are you hesitating for?” Gi-hun leaned even further towards the pig with confidence. He mentioned the VIPs, mentioned Il-nam and In-ho listened.
In-ho mentioned Matrix, in an attempt to warn him once more about his choices. About how he should pick the blue pill and pretend as much as he could that it was all just a dream, instead of killing himself trying to be a hero. “Do you also think you’re a hero who can change the world?”
“I’ll show you that the world doesn’t always go the way you want it to.”
“If that’s what you want, have it your way.”
He released the sleep gas.
Gi-hun held his gaze and In-ho did the same. They locked in an indirect stare until Gi-hun couldn’t take it anymore and fell unconscious.
“Player 456. Welcome back to the game.”
And now, In-ho finds himself putting on that green uniform again. Brushing his hair down like it once was. The first game was almost over, it was time.
All of this just to try to understand the man. He will go through all of this again just to know him. He wouldn’t stand only watching him through the screens again, he needs to be there. He needs to play with him. To watch how his mind works from up close. He wants to know what stupid plan he will come up with to try to stop the games. He wants to break him. He wants to show him he’s wrong and see for how long his kindness can endure. He will teach him a lesson he will never forget.
In-ho thanked Il-nam for the idea. He put the 001 coat and thought to himself: Player 132, welcome back to the game.