Chapter Text
About a month after the games ended, with this edition having 7 winners that decided to split the money between them in the end instead of fighting over it, Gi-hun doesn't know what happened to his friends or where they're now, but he said to them that if they ever needed a place to stay, the Pink Motel will always welcome them.
Gi-hun felt like a failure. He couldn't stop the games and participating in them a second time had led him to experience more death, more screaming, more… loss.
He's lost his best friend from before the games, Jung-bae, and has lost a friend he met during his second time – player 001, or Young-il – both fell during a failed rebellion Gi-hun led.
‘When we get out of here, let's drink soju together’ – those were Young-il's words before they went through with the rebellion. Before realising what was happening, Young-il said his final words to Gi-hun before being shot by those damned pink guards. And moments later, the Front Man coldly shot Jung-bae.
Just remembering this sends chills down Gi-hun's spine. The two people closest to him, perished within minutes of each other, and since then, Gi-hun promised to kill the Front Man as soon as he gets the chance. But alas, after the rebellion, they cranked up the security around the VIPs and the Front Man, so it was impossible to get near them.
Until today.
An alarm has shaken him back to reality.
Someone was standing outside his motel. Every bone in him hoped it was one of his friends, but the figure outside the motel was too dark, too angular, to be one of them.
Instead of waiting for the person to give up eventually as they slowly realised that no one was inside, Gi-hun decided to confront the person. He quickly grabbed one of his guns just as a safety measure, loaded it and went to greet this uninvited guest of his.
Slowly and quietly approaching the front door, Gi-hun hesitated. It can be anyone. Absolutely anyone. As the person outside was wearing a dark coat and it was night time, it was impossible to tell if they're a friend or an enemy. What if it's one of his friends? What will happen if he accidentally pulls the trigger on them? On the other hand, the person could be hostile and pulling the trigger would be self defence, right?
“Relax. Take a deep breath,” Gi-hun said under his breath. Best for now to leave the gun uncocked.
The knocking on the front door intensified as Gi-hun approached it. He put the gun in his back pocket and finally gathered enough courage to open the door. The one standing in front of him was definitely not someone he expected to see in broad daylight, or moonlight to be exact.
Before him stood the Front Man himself with a bottle of soju. Gi-hun instinctively pulled out his gun and cocked it, aiming it at the Front Man's heart, if he even had one.
“What… what are you doing here..?” the words barely got out of Gi-hun's mouth. The man who caused him all the loss and suffering he felt, was standing right in front of him, unarmed and with a bottle of soju of all things.
The masked man raised his hands, as if he's surrendering, “it'd be nicer if you put the gun down.”
“Answer my question. Why are you even here?” The rage and anger directed to the masked man just filled Gi-hun's head, “it better be a very good reason if you wish to live another day.”
“You promised Young-il you'll drink soju together. I'm simply doing a favour.”
Hearing Young-il's name made Gi-hun's heart skip a beat. In the mere few days they've been together, they became so attached, that hearing Young-il's last breaths hurt him more than Jung-bae's death. He didn't realise he closed his eyes until had to look again at the lifeless mask of the Front Man. “And why would you care about such a thing, said between two mere players where one is dead because of you and your stupid little games?”
The silence was so deafening, that Gi-hun's hands started to sweat a lot and the Front Man had to put the glass bottle on the ground before it shattered.
“I will explain, once we're inside. It's too risky talking outside, even if this motel of yours is located in a mostly abandoned area,” if Gi-hun were to guess, it'd almost felt like the man before him was full of fear and regret. But it's impossible, right? The mask conceals any expression and feelings, so it led Gi-hun to believe the man, if it's even possible to call this monster ‘a man’...
“Why should I even believe you? You're so unsympathetic that it makes me gag. Are you aware that one wrong move can cost you your life? I could just kill you right here, right now, but why am I still talking to you?”
“Look at my hands. Does someone unsympathetic have their hands shaking uncontrollably when facing certain death? I'm here to honour a promise you made. No hidden agenda, nothing. If you still can't trust me, look around. Do you see any pink guards?” The man in dark clothes had his hands shaking uncontrollably as he said. Looking around the nearby buildings, Gi-hun didn't spot a single pink guard, so he deduced that this expressionless man was speaking the truth. Still, the synthetic voice caused by the mask made him not so trustworthy.
Gi-hun sighed. “Fine. You can enter. But before you enter, I need to search you for weapons. My place, my rules.”
Without lowering his gun, Gi-hun patted the man and found several suspicious items. Among the items were a taser, some sort of a drug, and a small revolver, loaded.
“Self defence. That's it,” the man answered after the judging face that Gi-hun shot at him.
“Confiscated until further notice. Get the bottle and keep your arms where I can see them,” Gi-hun said and pushed the other man with his gun, guiding him through the stairs until they arrived at a room that was clearly not used in a very, very long time.
“I thought you'd live a luxurious life, being the winner of not one, but two games. All this money and you live in a run down motel. What a shame,” the man made a noise that almost sounded like a scoff. The mask made the noise unrecognisable as it distorted the natural voice to a point where it almost felt uncanny.
The man set up the bottle on the small table in the middle of the room and disgusted Gi-hun popped two glasses from a nearby cabinet.
“As I've already told you, the money earned in the games is blood money. People shouldn't have died, but you and those VIPs are so sick, that I can't understand how people dying is a form of high entertainment or whatever twisted taste all of you have. Do you not care about the families of the people who are victims of the games? I still haven't gotten an answer to my previous questions. I'm growing impatient.”
“How do you want me to prove to you that you can trust me? You're the one in control here.”
“First, tell me your real name. No games, just plain and simple.”
The masked man tilted his head slightly forward and said in a slightly stronger than a whisper voice, “Hwang In-ho…”
“Excuse me? I said no games?”
“Fine. My name is Hwang In-ho,” this time loud enough to send shivers down Gi-hun's spine. Why was this name familiar?
‘Do you know a player named Hwang In-ho?’ a pink guard asked Gi-hun during the honeycomb game. This pink guard turned out to be Hwang Jun-ho, a former police officer and the brother of In-ho.
The realization dawned on Gi-hun faster than he'd imagined, “Your brother, Jun-ho, was searching for you when I was playing in my first games. I assume you know that. But why did he lie about not knowing you…”
“Of all people, my little brother makes the biggest mess. I'm surprised he kept his mouth shut, as things would've been much more complicated during the latest edition of the games,” In-ho let out a sigh.
The synthesiser couldn't handle it well and what was heard was an unsettling noise that was a mixture of synthetic and natural voices, “I need to fix this mask. It troubles me too much if I'm going to host the games in the future…”
“If you're here to honour a dead player's promise that involves drinking, why won't you take it off altogether? Really, what's the big deal?” As Gi-hun's gun was still pointed at In-ho, the latter looked around the room nervously, almost fearing death.
Which was strange. He enjoyed seeing others suffer and die, and fears dying himself? Just as Gi-hun thought that the Front Man was a heartless monster…
“I knew this day would come, sooner or later. I hoped you'd get on that damned plane and forget about the games, about everything, about me… You really think Young-il is dead? Tell me,” his voice cracked and sounded desperate, even with this cursed, soulless mask.
What does he mean by forgetting him and why did he ask about Young-il?
“I heard his last breaths! Isn't this enough evidence? You and your stupid games took away Sae-byeok, Sang-woo, Jung-bae, and most importantly – Young-il. I cared for Young-il so much that during the third game, when he split from our group, I was worried he would die. He means everything to me, but he's dead because of you!” The words were fired with rage from Gi-hun's mouth, directed at the expressionless mask in front of him on In-ho's face he couldn't see, “also, why would I even care about you?”
To try and calm the raging storm, In-ho decided to pour a glass of soju to each of them, “Cheers. I'm here sincerely. I wish to tell you the truth, not the half truths you've been fed all those years.”
“How do I know it's not poisoned? You could've tampered with it and I wouldn't know. Remove your fucking mask and drink first.”
“As you wish. It's still not too late to forget everything and just… get on a plane and fly as far away as possible, be lost in your own thoughts. ‘The ones who chose the umbrella must've bitten the dust’, that's what Young-il said to you before the second game, right?” Gi-hun swears this man that sits across from him is running at full speed toward his untimely death.
The gun in Gi-hun's hand moved closer to In-ho's neck as he slowly rose to a standing position, “Are you just stalling the inevitable? Because one shot from this, and my long lasting nightmare will end.”
“If you really wish to put an end to the games, you first have to change how the human mind works. Until then – good luck,” what seems like a tear was falling from the bottom of In-ho's mask caught Gi-hun's attention, “Player 45– Gi-hun, I know you want me dead and that you think of me as heartless, cold and ruthless, but you also said to Young-il that everyone has a little bit of good, a little bit of humanity, that can't be erased.”
Gi-hun sighs with frustration, “if you once again mention Young-il, I'm going to pull the trigger. Remove the mask before I remove you from the living.”
Without any other option left, In-ho reluctantly began to remove the hood – the hairline looked familiar to Gi-hun, he wasn't sure why – and then, slowly and with a lot of hesitation, the mask had begun to fall and reveal In-ho's crying face.
The eyes that looked at Gi-hun now were the same ones as Young-il's. The lips were the same… even the smallest imperfections Young-il had were staring at him now. The hand that held the gun was lowered and Gi-hun stepped away, stumbling on his chair and he fell on his back from the shock and the realization.
This whole time, the man who Gi-hun trusted the most and the man he despised the most were the same person.
“Is this some sort of a very twisted and sick joke…? I feel like I'm going to puke. Why…? You've joined the games on purpose to mess with me, am I right?” Gi-hun tried to stand, but his legs failed him. In-ho, Young-il – or whoever this man was – tried to help Gi-hun to stand, but was met with a shot to his right thigh.
Luckily for In-ho, and maybe not as lucky for Gi-hun, the bullet missed anything major, but the former fell and hit his head on the nightstand behind him.
Realising what he's done, Gi-hun wasn't ready for the man he loathed to die of blood loss and a concussion.
He rushed to get a first aid kit, along with some antiseptic, and something to clean and stitch up the gun wound. Part of Gi-hun thought that even though ‘Young-il’ turned out to be a persona of the man he had dreams of where he killed the masked man over and over again, he couldn't let the man actually die. Not when he needed answers.
***************
After what feels like an eternity, and after too many times where Gi-hun felt like vomiting every last bit inside his stomach, the wound of his nemesis was cleaned up and stitched. He dragged the unconscious body onto a bed in one of the more secure sections of the motel and tied the despicable man's left hand to the bed frame, so when that man wakes up, if he wakes up, he'd be unable to run away.
Gi-hun picked up the black mask in the room they were talking just not long ago, the mask felt… unamusing, without its owner. It almost feels like the man tied to a bed just several rooms away is an actual living human being, and not the monster Gi-hun was picturing all those years.
This mere thought sickened him even more.
He tried to think about all the times Young-il was acting suspicious, but all that surfaced was only warmth and genuine care toward Gi-hun.
A phone call brought him back to reality from his daydreaming.
The caller was Jun-ho.
“Mr. Seong? Is everything alright in the motel? I was running some errands not that far away and heard a gunshot,” the worried voice of the younger man was a bit soothing.
Gi-hun hesitated for a second before replying – “Yes. Everything is under control. Just had a nightmare about the games where apparently I sleepwalked and shot the air accidentally. There's no need to worry and just go home, Jun-ho.”
It was a half-truth, but still a part of him wanted this whole thing to turn out to be a dream.
“If that's everything, fine, I'll drop by tomorrow just to see if everything is as you say. Also, you've been avoiding human contact like the plague after you came back, I just want to make sure you're not going insane. If that's okay?”
Fuck. What is he going to do? In-ho is tied to a bed, having a gun wound and a concussion, and Jun-ho said he'll come tomorrow. “Uh, there's no need. I told the other ‘winners’ that I'll be waiting at the motel, and I don't want to startle them with the presence of a policeman.”
“As you wish, Mr. Seong. I'm going to drop some groceries outside tomorrow morning and be off. Just please contact me if someone connected to the games shows up,” Jun-ho's voice still had a suspicious tone, but Gi-hun attributed it to the former's detective nature.
They exchanged goodbyes and Gi-hun hung up. One problem was avoided but another was waiting.
The owner of the black angular mask turned out to be a bigger headache than Gi-hun imagined.
He decided to go to the room where that monster was just lying in, not being able to move or react. It was the perfect opportunity to end that man's life, right there and then, but Gi-hun's humanity and morals couldn't allow him to do so.
How can he kill a defenceless man? Even if that man deserved to die, Gi-hun couldn't bring himself to actually commit to the thought.
Upon seeing In-ho's almost motionless body, Gi-hun wanted to run away, as far away as possible. For just a flickering moment, all he saw was Young-il. As twisted and fake as it was, Gi-hun swears that most of the moments they shared during the games as players were genuine and full of true care and affection.
The weight of the mask in Gi-hun's hands was heavier than it actually was, so he decided to put the mask back on In-ho. The less he sees that man's face, the better the chance his sanity will stay intact. He then exited the room and locked the door behind him.