Gi-hun could still hear the distant echoes of the game below, the screams of players who couldn't make it to the next game. Every step, every whisper of material seemed to ring in his ears, and his heart beat with great urgency.

His gaze swept across the room, scanning the faces of the other VIPs-smiling, drinking, their eyes glinting with cold detachment. How could they be so calm, so unaffected? They spoke about the game like it was just a game. Yet Gi-hun could feel the weight of each lost life pressing down on him, a crushing responsibility that refused to be ignored. He had tried to push away the overwhelming guilt of his past actions, but the memory of what had happened between him and In-ho lingered in his mind like a persistent shadow. The touch, the words, the way his body had betrayed him despite every instinct to resist… It was as if he was still trapped in the moment, unable to escape the trap he had willingly entered. In-ho had a way of getting under his skin and bending his resolve with dangerous ease.

But Gi-hun couldn’t afford to dwell on that now. His focus had to be on something bigger-on stopping the game, on saving the people who still had a chance. He had seen the horror up close. The raw brutality of it had shaken him to his core, and he couldn’t unsee the faces of the fallen, the ones who had believed in the promise of the game, the false hope that they might escape.

A voice brought him back to the present. “Gi-hun,” a deep, smooth voice called. He turned, immediately recognizing the figure standing at the doorway- In-ho.

In-ho was the last person Gi-hun wanted to see right now. His stomach turned as their eyes met, and yet, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. In-ho’s calm expression was enough to make Gi-hun’s blood boil. He seemed so sure of himself, so in control. It sickened him.

“You seem troubled,” In-ho remarked, his tone laced with mock concern. He stepped into the room, closing the distance between them.

Gi-hun clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the waves of anger threatening to break through. “and how do you want me to feel now other than troubled!?You are literally killing hundreds of people!”

In-ho smiled, a dangerous, knowing curve of his lips. “It’s more than that, Gi-hun. This isn’t just about survival only. It’s about understanding the game. It’s about power. The power to make people do things they never thought possible. The power to control everything.”

Gi-hun’s fists tightened at his sides. “You’re sick,” he spat, his voice low but fierce. “You manipulate people, twist them until they break. You’re not just playing a game. You’re destroying lives.”

In-ho stepped even closer, his voice now a quiet, almost hypnotic murmur. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not destroying anything. I’m giving them a choice. A chance. They could all walk away if they wanted to. The rules are simple-win, or die. There’s no other way.” He paused, studying Gi-hun’s face with amusement. “You’re still struggling with the concept of it, aren’t you? You think they have no choice, but they do. They just need to decide. Only the strongest survive.”

Gi-hun fought to control the fury rising within him. He knew In-ho was right about one thing-the game was about choice. The players had made a choice when they entered and after every round, and then they had to face the consequences. But that didn’t make it any less wrong.

“I’m going to stop you,” Gi-hun said, his voice firm, resolute. “I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll make sure this game ends.”

In-ho laughed, the sound a mixture of amusement and contempt. “You think you can? You’re just another player, Gi-hun. You have been caught in this game like the rest of them. You don’t have the power to stop it. No one does. Not even me.”

Gi-hun’s stomach dropped at In-ho’s words. He had been right all along. This was never about winning or losing; it was about control. But it wasn’t just about winning for the VIPs-it was about breaking the human spirit. The game wasn’t about survival. It was about submission.

His mind raced as In-ho continued to speak, the words echoing in his head. He had seen it. He had felt it. The manipulation. The cruelty. The way In-ho played with his emotions, bending him to his will without even trying. Gi-hun wasn’t just in this game. He was a part of it, a piece of the puzzle that In-ho had been assembling from the start.

And then, as if the weight of the truth had finally settled in, something inside Gi-hun snapped. He would not be a puppet. He would not be another cog in In-ho’s twisted machine.

He took a step back, eyes locked onto In-ho’s. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice calm, but full of determination. “I can stop it. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll do whatever it takes to destroy this game. To destroy you.”

In-ho’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. For a brief moment, Gi-hun thought he might strike him, might twist the situation to his advantage like he always did. But instead, In-ho’s lips curled into a smile. “Then we’ll see how far you’re willing to go,” he said, his voice cool, almost casual. “But don’t think for a second you can just walk away from this. You’re already in it, Gi-hun. And I’m going to enjoy watching you try to escape.”

Gi-hun stood his ground, every fiber of his being screaming for action. He could feel the intensity of In-ho’s gaze, the weight of everything that had led him here, bearing down on him. But this time, Gi-hun wasn’t afraid.

He was done playing In-ho’s game.