Gi-hun's breath came in shallow gasps as he stumbled out of the VIP room, his heart racing faster with each step. He could still hear In-ho's voice echoing in his mind, the chilling promise of the game’s unyielding grip. But for now, he couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t afford to.

His only thought was escape. His legs burned with the frantic pace he set as he sprinted down the long hallway, the doors in front of him seeming to multiply as if mocking his efforts to flee. Behind every door, another hallway. Another room. It felt like the building stretched on forever, its oppressive walls closing in around him with each passing second. Yet no matter how many times he turned, he couldn’t escape the feeling of being watched.

He glanced behind him, expecting to see In-ho following. But to his surprise, there was no one. The hallway was empty. Gi-hun hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. Maybe In-ho had underestimated him, or maybe he knows that I won't get anything done this way. Either way, Gi-hun couldn’t slow down. He had to keep moving.

He took a deep breath, pushing forward with renewed urgency. A door loomed ahead, and without thinking, he wrenched it open, only to find himself face-to-face with a pair of guards. They wore the familiar red suits and triangle masks. But these two were different. Their movements were slower, more deliberate, as though they were new recruits, unsure of the rules that governed this terrifying world.

Gi-hun froze for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest. They had no idea who he was, and in his panicked state, he couldn’t help but feel like a cornered animal. Without thinking, he took a step back, but it was too late.

One of the guards raised his weapon, and the sharp sound of a gunshot rang out. Gi-hun’s body lurched, instinctively ducking and lowering his head to avoid the trajectory of the bullet. But in his terror, he made a fatal mistake-his hand shot up in an effort to shield his face, his fingers raised too high. He saw the flash of the bullet in his peripheral vision and, before he could react, the searing pain erupted in his hand.

He screamed, the shock of the wound freezing him in place for a split second. Blood poured from his palm as he gripped it with his other hand, trying to stop the bleeding. He dropped to his knees, vision swimming from the pain, but the guards weren’t done. They were aiming again, ready to take another shot.

Gi-hun’s mind screamed for him to move, to get out of there, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His legs refused to cooperate, and his vision blurred. He was going to die here. Just like the others. His eyes squeezed shut as he awaited the next bullet, his heart in his throat.

But then, the gunfire stopped.

A muffled sound-heavy footsteps-came from behind him. He barely had the strength to turn around, but when he did, his eyes widened with disbelief. Mr.The most beloved man in the world, Frontman stood there, his figure looming in the doorway. He was still wearing the black suit, the mask obscuring his face, but there was no mistaking the dangerous aura that surrounded him.

Without a word, In-ho raised his weapon and fired, two shots ringing out in quick succession. The guards in front of Gi-hun dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, their bodies crumpling to the floor like ragdolls.

Gi-hun’s breath caught in his throat, the reality of the situation setting in. He couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. The man who had been controlling everything from behind the scenes-the man who had seemed untouchable-had just saved him.

But for what purpose?

Frontman walked toward Gi-hun, his eyes never leaving him. Gi-hun could feel the weight of his gaze even though it was hidden behind the mask. His hand throbbed, the pain so intense he could hardly think. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified, but there was no time for either. His body was telling him to run, but his legs still wouldn’t move.

"Get up," Frontman’s voice came, cold and detached. There was no empathy in it, only command.

Gi-hun flinched at the sound, still dazed, but his instincts kicked in. He scrambled to his feet, his wounded hand still pressed to his chest, trying to stem the bleeding. But before he could move, Mr. Frontman was right in front of him.

"You're not safe here," he said, his tone not a suggestion, but a warning.

Gi-hun’s mind raced, but the words didn’t make sense. In-ho was the one who had kept this nightmare running, the one who had caused so much pain. And yet, here he was, standing in front of him, as if offering some kind of help.

Gi-hun's breath quickened. "Why?" he asked hoarsely, the word barely leaving his lips. "Why are you doing this?"

Frontman didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small device. He handed it to Gi-hun without a word, the cold metal slick with an eerie sheen.

"What is this?" Gi-hun asked, his voice shaking.

“Get out. Now.”Frontman’s voice was sharp, the urgency clear in his tone.

Gi-hun didn’t hesitate. He took the device, his fingers trembling as he clutched it. With one final look at Frontman, he turned and walked towards the door he had previously passed through with slight embarrassment and resignation due to the situation he was in.

It was obvious, the game had only just begun.