Gi-hun’s heart leaped in his chest as he saw it-there, just beyond the jagged rocks, a small boat bobbed gently in the moonlight. A man, weathered and worn, was tying ropes to the side of the vessel, preparing to set off. The faint sound of the waves crashing against the rocks seemed to echo the growing hope inside him. Freedom was so close. It was almost within his grasp.

His legs, still unsteady from the long climb, surged forward with the rush of adrenaline. He had never felt so desperate, so driven. This could be it-the chance to escape, to leave this hell behind. The island, the games, the nightmare-he could leave it all in the past.

But just as his hand reached out, ready to grab the edge of the boat and pull himself on board, a figure appeared in his path.

“In-ho,” Gi-hun muttered, the name tasting bitter on his tongue. He had known this moment would come. He had known In-ho would follow him, that the man would somehow find a way to block his escape. But that didn’t make it any easier to face him.

In-ho stood in front of him, a calculated look in his eyes. In his right hand, a pistol gleamed in the low light, though it was aimed downward. The weight of it was a reminder that Gi-hun wasn’t free yet.

“You really thought you could just walk away?” In-ho’s voice was cold, his expression almost bored as he took a few slow steps forward, blocking Gi-hun’s path to the boat. “You’re not going anywhere, Gi-hun. Not yet.”

Gi-hun didn’t back down. He had nothing left to lose. He had come this far, and he wasn’t about to be stopped now. But there was something in In-ho’s eyes, something that made him pause. Was he really going to fire that gun? Was Gi-hun going to have to fight for his life here, at the edge of the world?

He watched In-ho closely, studying his every movement, his every twitch. The gun was still in his hand, but Gi-hun sensed something else—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He had a feeling that In-ho wasn’t going to shoot him, not yet.

“I knew you’d try this,” In-ho said, almost as if reading Gi-hun’s thoughts. His voice was unnervingly calm. “But you’re wasting your time. That man?” He gestured toward the figure by the boat, still tying the ropes. “He works for me. He’s not going to help you escape.”

Gi-hun’s stomach sank. Of course. This was all part of the game. There was no way out, not unless In-ho allowed it. The man’s control over everything, over every person here, seemed absolute.

Gi-hun took a step back, his mind racing. What now? Was this the end of the line? Was there no hope left?

In-ho’s eyes hardened, and he spoke again, his tone shifting, darker now. “But you’re not going back to the games, of course.” He stepped closer, and Gi-hun could hear the faint rustle of the gun in his hand, the cold click of metal. “I’m going to take you back to the city. You’ll spend one day with me. One day, Gi-hun. And then, you can do whatever you want. No more games, no more strings attached.”

Gi-hun blinked, taken aback by the unexpected offer. A day with In-ho? It sounded too simple, too easy. He could almost hear the ticking of an unseen clock in his mind. Was this another trap? Was there some hidden motive behind this seemingly innocent request? In-ho never did anything without an ulterior motive.

Gi-hun stared at him, suspicion and confusion flooding his mind. He had spent so long trying to escape this system, trying to bring it down. And now In-ho was offering him freedom? It didn’t add up.

“You think I’ll just… agree to that?” Gi-hun asked, his voice flat. His heart hammered in his chest as he processed the words. “After everything you’ve done?”

In-ho smirked, his lips curling with amusement. “You don’t have a choice. You’ll spend the day with me, and you won’t be able to continue your ‘investigation’ for those twenty-four hours. After that, do whatever you want. It’ll be a break for both of us, don’t you think?”

Gi-hun felt a pit form in his stomach. It was too easy, too clean. In-ho was hiding something-he always was. But still, there was a part of him that felt drawn to the idea of a brief respite, a chance to breathe without the constant weight of fear pressing down on him.

He eyed In-ho warily, weighing his options. The situation had changed, but the game was still the same. Gi-hun knew this wasn’t the end. He wasn’t going to stop, not now. But if he agreed to In-ho’s terms, he could buy himself some time. He could learn more. He could wait for the right moment.

Finally, he spoke, his voice steady. “Fine. I’ll play along. But remember this, In-ho: I’m not going to stop. I’ll find a way to take you down, one way or another.”

In-ho’s smile didn’t falter. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Gi-hun. I’ll see you in the city. We’ll have our day.”

As the words hung in the air, Gi-hun knew this wasn’t the end of the line. It was just another step in the long road ahead. But for now, he would play the game. He would bide his time.

And when the moment came, he would make sure In-ho, and everything he represented, would burn.