With each step we took, my heart pounded in my chest. Every corner we turned I froze, feet planted in suspense, expecting a guard to be standing there, ready to shoot.

It was a pleasant surprise when we made it to the control room unscathed. My mind spun with questions. What was In-hos plan? When would he do something to stop this? Surely he wouldn't let Gi-hun do any irreversible damage?

From my perspective as a manager (not that I would consider myself a manager anymore), I was worried. Letting players into the control room was a disaster waiting to happen. Using the computers that were in plain sight, it would be easy—too easy— to access classified information. Player information, live cameras, guard shifts, everything could have been accessed using those computers if you knew where to find it—not that it was the most difficult thing in the world, In-ho wasn't very... tech-savvy.

Did In-ho have a plan, or was he just hoping Gi-hun wasn't smart enough to find anything important on the computers? I shook my head, of course he had a plan. I just hoped that it wasn't good enough to stop Gi-hun.

Dae-ho, still leading the group, grasped onto the large, black doorknob and slid the door open. It opened painfully slowly. Everyone held their breath. The only noise was the soft drawl of the door as it slid on its hinges, revealing the control room.

It was empty. Not a guard in sight.

We all let out a collective exhale— all except In-ho. I glanced towards him, expecting him to look somewhat relieved as Young-il, but he remained stoic. His eyes stayed focused in front of him, his shoulders remained rigid. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

As the door opened fully, he didn't even glance around the control room as if he had planned this. As if he knew it was empty. As if he knew the computers were in plain sight.

But did he know the first thing Gi-hun would do was make a beeline straight towards a computer without even inspecting the room? I watched from my spot near the back of the group as the others slowly started exploring the control center. Not a word was spoken as they all looked around the room, captivated by the vast technologies used to run this place.

Dae-ho and Jung-bae walked towards the floor with the players' pictures, examining those who were dimmed out, silently realizing they were dead. Their faces visibly dropped with the realization that over 75% of the original players were dead.

120 went for the more practical route, scanning the walls and desks for weapons or maps or anything we could use to our advantage. It was futile—unless In-ho hid something there, the only things that were visible were fake guns and unactivated masks. It was a sort of twisted decoration, hanging and displaying the weapons and masks of killed guards. The guards that he had killed.

The others didn't know —of course—that he was the mastermind behind this whole room. He had decided exactly what went in this room and where, not a single thing was placed that wasn't extensively thought out.

The computers faced the wall to maintain obedience and anonymity-if you were working, you wouldn't be able to witness the horrors that happened seemingly behind your back.

The floor showed the players smiling faces to continue the childish atmosphere until they lost, dimming their faces as if they never existed. It was a nauseating sight, watching as the floor dimmed. But you wouldn't be able to see that if you were working, obeying.

Masks and broken guns lined the desks and walls as a trophy, flaunting the front man's total power and control he had over managers and players alike. These were hung on the walls for a reason. You were meant to see them as you worked away on the computers, an 'approved' distraction should your mind start to wander. It was a reminder of where you were and who you truly served.

Gi-hun didn't waste any time examining the physical aspects of the room, no, he ran straight towards the first computer he saw, clicking around on it. His widened eyes were glued to the screen, so he didn't notice when In-ho slowly, carefully walked towards him and stood behind him. His presence was silent, yet unnerving. Gi-hun didn't see how In-ho was staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and burning hatred in his eyes.

I did.

In-ho was the first to break the silence in the room, his voice came out so clipped that it made me flinch. "Do you really think they would hide important information on computers we can easily access?" Gi-hun jumped, not realizing In-ho was standing right behind him. "Wouldn't they hide stuff more discreetly?"

I didn't know if Gi-hun even registered his words. If he did, he just ignored them, continuing his furious typing.

Gi-hun's fingers moved in a blur as he tried to decode the computer, the frantic tapping of the keyboard echoed throughout the room.

I watched as In-hos jaw clenched and his fingers drummed against his thigh—he wasn't used to being ignored.

Suddenly, In-ho sulked over to a computer and took a seat, leaving a gap in between him and Gi-hun. He mirrored Gi-huns movements, clicking around the computer in hopes of finding some information. His movements were calm and collected, like he had all the time in the world.

I glanced at the dark room once again. 120 was still looking at the walls and desks, inspecting a particularly interesting gun. Jung-bae and Dae-ho were walking around the checkered floor, solemnly looking at their allies that had been killed. The tension in the room was almost palpable. We all knew that we didn't have long until the guards came in and shot us all. We didn't know what to do.

Gi-huns plan had always been simple—find the control room and get to the front man. But now he was here, with no plan of what to do next. He was standing just inches away from the man he sought. The irony was too cruel—he reached his goal without even realizing it.

But what would he do now? If he thought he was getting out of here alive, he was either an optimist or just plain stupid. Unless he had some masterful plan up his sleeve or an absolute miracle happened—the players would be shot when In-ho decides he had enough of their disobedience. I wanted to help them, but how could I without exposing myself?

What could we do except pray we made it out alive?

The erratic clicks of the keyboard shot through the room, echoing like gunfire.

And then I felt it: the unmistakable sharpness of In-hos gaze. I didn't look at him. He had been ignoring me ever since the hallway, what did he want now?

Gi-huns typing stopped and he reached for the mouse, clicking around on it. My pulse pounded in my ears as I resisted the urge to meet In-hos gaze. His stare felt like a blade pressed against my skin: cool, chilling, and impossible to ignore.

Finally, I reluctantly looked at him. My heart leapt in my chest as his dark, hooded eyes met mine. The intensity of his stare sent a chill through me. He was watching me. Testing me.

His pointer finger tapped slowly and methodically against the desk. I knew what he was asking me to do: sit next to him and delete the important files. They were backed up onto a hard-drive only we knew about, so it wouldn't matter in the slightest if they were deleted.

But why wasn't he doing it?

Why was he just sitting there as Gi-hun got closer and closer to revealing the secrets about this place?

Why wasn't he trying to stop him? What was the point of me doing it?

But before I could do anything, Gi-huns' weak voice cut through the tense silence of the room, shattering the palpable tension between me and In-ho.

"Guys..."

His voice echoed off the walls and drummed in my ears like a vice. What did he find? My heart both sunk and stopped at the same time, a twisted mix of fear and hope swirled in my stomach. I wanted him to be successful— I really did—but would In-ho do what he did so many times before, eliminating 5he problem without a second thought? Would he shoot Gi-hun without even a flicker of hesitation, ending his little rebellion with the twitch of a finger?

The others started making their way towards him, their soft footsteps echoing in the silent room.

I swallowed and turned towards Gi-huns computer, dreading what he had found.

In-ho, shifting seamlessly back into Young-il, quickly bridged the gap between them and sat in the seat he had deliberately left empty for me.

"What did you find?" In-ho's voice had the perfect blend of curiosity and anticipation, like he was actually excited to see what he had found. He leaned forward, putting weight on his elbows as he looked at the computer screen. But I noticed the slight clench of his jaw as he put pressure on his right arm, a crack in his carefully crafted façade.

As soon as the others were gathered around his computer, Gi-hun clicked a button, revealing the whole network of live cameras.

Live feeds— Every. Single. One.

My heart dropped, pulse pounding violently at the sight—would this be enough to get him killed?

I glanced towards In-ho, who remained staring at the screen, seemingly awestruck. His eyebrows were raised and there was a spark in his eyes that couldn't be faked. He apparently underestimated Gi-hun.

Good.

Rows upon rows of camera feeds filled the computer, showing everything. Well—not everything, I knew there was another whole page of them—but enough to show a vast majority of the island. Enough to escape.

The silence in the room stretched, hardly even a breath was heard as we eagerly watched Gi-hun click through the screens.

He was just clicks away from finding classified information. I clenched my fists together to try and conceal their shaking, but it hardly helped my skyrocketing anxiety. I wasn't just worried about the game, I was scared that our aliases would come crashing down, shattering with the simple click of a button.

If he found the recordings of the live feeds—which, again, wasn't difficult—there was a very real chance that he would find me and In-ho. Though it wasn't often that we both had our masks off, it was possible he would stumble across a recording where we were.

I didn't want to explain the truth to the players. Would they believe that I wanted to help after I had lied to them all this time?

My heart sank at the thought. I prayed that he didn't find anything about me or In-ho. I wanted to keep this lie going as long as possible. I wasn't ready to go back to reality—killing innocent people and turning a blind eye. But would In-ho even take me back? I made it clear I wanted to destroy the game—He didn't take disobedience lightly. Honestly, it was a miracle I survived this long.

Gi-hun grasped the mouse, his fingers curling around it. He, too, seemed nervous of what he would find.

Click !

He clicked on the first feed. The screen went black, loading. My heart pounded against my ribs.

I glanced at In-ho, but he looked as collected as ever. The suspense seemed to last forever. My rapid heartbeat kept me steady, grounding me in a sort of twisted way.

The screen flickered, displaying the stairwell we were in earlier. I had to physically restrain myself from letting out a sigh of relief. It was abandoned, save for the bodies that littered the floor. The colorful walls looked extremely saturated on the screen, burning my eyes.

No one said a word. The bodies sat there motionless as a reminder of our fates if we were to fail.

He clicked off the screen and onto another live feed. After another moment of anticipation, it loaded, revealing a dimly lit hallway.

Everyone leaned forward, trying to make out the dark image.

It was the hallway of the guards' quarters. Empty.

The long, desolate hallway looked especially eerie from this point of view—the long, dark shadows only added to the unsettling atmosphere.

Dae-ho broke the silence, his voice soft, "What do you think these are?" He pointed at the screen at the numbers on the guards doors. "What are these numbers for? Are they for us?"

120 was the first to answer him, "Why would they have rooms for the players? They wouldn't treat us so kindly."

We all nodded and left it at that. My anxiety returned, stabbing my gut. It was like a tidal wave crashed over me, drowning me in worst case scenarios. What was going to pop up next? What if it was something that exposed us—what would we do?

Gi-hun clicked again.

A luxurious suite popped up. Complete with gold accents that lined the walls and silky velvet furniture was scattered around the room. A large chandelier hung from the center of the room, casting the space in a golden glow, not unlike a sunset. Extravagant paintings and intricate details adorned the walls, each one proved the opulence of this place.

The VIP's room. Not that they would have known that, of course.

But there was something that was off... It was empty.

The VIPs were supposed to be in there right now, watching the 'special game'.

Where were they?

"Woah..." Dae-ho started, "This room seems important."

In-ho's brows furrowed as he leaned in, seemingly thinking the exact same thing as me. He looked back at me slightly, confusion evident in his widened eyes.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to distract myself from my churning stomach.

Gi-hun clicked again.

When the next live feed popped up I felt a sharp pain shoot through my mouth, accompanied by the metallic taste of blood.

In-ho's suite.

My breath hitched and I froze, praying no one saw the way we both stiffened. It showed his room real-time, just like the others. The dim lighting made it hard to see, but the back of the couch and massive screen on the wall were visible. The expensive furniture and sheer expense of the room screamed importance.

Gi-hun clicked again, but it was just another angle of his room. This camera was directed towards the couch and the entrance to his room. I swallowed, running my hands on my pants, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. If Gi-hun managed to find the recordings of this camera angle, we would be clearly visible. Not good.

"This must be the front man's room." Gi-hun said, narrowing his eyes and leaning closer to get a better look.

My stomach twisted into knots, panic coiling in my chest. I forced my expression to remain neutral, an impossible task with the looming threat of exposure.

Dae-ho let out a low whistle, "Damn. Fancy."

120 and Jung-bae laughed and nodded, but I couldn't bring myself to even fake a chuckle. Gi-hun was getting too close to uncovering everything. My fingers dug into my palms, nails making little red marks in my skin. It didn't help my anxiety. At all.

The silence stretched as we all took in the view. There was nothing of note—just the black, leather couch and the empty space of his room that led to the door.

Another click echoed throughout the room. Another angle of In-hos suite. The camera panned, showing his sleek mini-bar and closed bedroom door.

My stomach twisted even tighter. He was getting too close for comfort.

"Why does this guy get a mini-bar?" Jung-bae scoffed, leaning forward on Gi-huns chair.

I forced myself to keep my breathing even and hands still.

Gi-hun clicked again, the sharp noise echoing through the room.

In-ho's suite. Again.

Gi-hun muttered under his breath, "Where the hell is he?" In-ho shifted his weight beside me, his unusually nervous energy was overwhelming.

This camera showed the far side of his room, capturing his desk and bathroom door. The dim lighting cast shadows across the room, but one thing was for certain—nothing was out of order. His desk was clean, every paper accounted for. The clean tiles of his floor reflected even in the dim light.

Jung-bae continued, his resentment for the front man evident. "Damn, this guy sure is important."

This was too much. We had to do something. I had to do something.

I spoke, my voice quiet though it echoed throughout the silent room. "Why don't we try looking for something else? Looking at this rich snob's room isn't going to help us."

I chuckled, trying to keep my tone light and unforced. I wanted him to look at something else—not the computer and especially not the recordings.

Gi-hun hesitated, "We need to find him to end the game."

"But what if there's other information on here that could help us?" I said, voice raising with every word.

Gi-hun nodded, accepting my proposition and started clicking around, leaving the live feeds alone.

I pointed towards a file near the top left of the screen, prompting him to open an almost empty file—just a dossier on the guards. It was relatively unimportant, so I hoped it would steer Gi-hun away from what I didn't want him to find.

Captivated, we all watched as he seamlessly maneuvered through the computer. He stayed near the files at the top of the screen, but the small, blinking red button near the bottom of the screen stood out to me like a beacon. Maybe because I was paranoid. Or maybe it was because that button had the power to end everything. It would unlock all of our secrets, revealing our carefully crafted lie. It would show all the recordings for the live cameras. Everything.

My pulse quickened. The deafening roar echoing in my ears, drowning everything out. As much as I tried to focus on what Gi-hun was doing on the computer, the blinking button taunted me, small yet impossibly loud. I wanted to look away and pretend everything was fine. But I couldn't. My body stood there, stiff and unbreathing, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

What would we do when he clicked it? How would we deny the plain evidence that condemned us?

And then, as if hearing my thoughts, 120 said the words I had been dreading, "Gi-hun, click on that red button near the bottom.

My blood ran cold. I heard In-ho swallow beside me. He stiffened, but played it off by leaning in towards the computer. Every muscle in my body tensed.

In-ho leaned forward, feigning curiosity, though I could tell by the slight hitch in his breath and the way his finger drummed against the desk that he was worried, too. He knew that if Gi-hun clicked that button, it was over.

I forced myself to stay still. To not react.

In-hos voice broke the silence, "What if it's something bad, like a detonator?" He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "They wouldn't have any important information on a button that obvious."

Gi-hun responded, his voice quiet but firm, almost as if he was challenging In-ho. "But what if it is important? What if the secret to the whole game is in there?"

I had to act. Now.

"Well we haven't found anything important so far. They probably wiped the critical information off the computers before we got here."

My voice of reason echoed throughout the room, making Gi-hun pause.

He hesitated, just for a fleeting second. One heartbeat. Then, with a quiet sigh, he clicked, ignoring my words completely.

My stomach plummeted.

A sharp, audible click was heard as he pressed the button. The screen went dark. My heart hammered in my chest, banging against my ribs. My mind reeled, thinking of all the possible things that could pop up. Would it be me and In-ho walking through the halls at night? Maybe it would be me and him sitting in his room, drinking and talking. Or, maybe, it would be something from before the game even started, clearly showing us together without our masks.

Either way, we were about to be exposed. Everything we had built up these few days would come crashing down, shattering at my feet. Would Gi-hun accept my help in destroying the game? Would In-ho still even want to talk to me? Would he just kill all of us right now without a second thought?

I took one small step backwards. The dark screen flickered with one, simple message "System Accessing..."

A loading bar appeared under the words, slowly creeping forward. Every second that passed felt like an eternity. I didnt breathe. No one did.

In-ho shifted beside me, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Everyone was looking at the computer screen, so no one saw how his gaze flickered towards me. The tension that radiated from him was palpable—he was just as nervous as I was.

Ding !

I turned away from In-ho and back towards the screen, the words "Playback Access Granted" proudly displayed in bold, white letters.

I swallowed. My heart stopped.

The screen went black for a moment. Then a list of recorded footage appeared neatly arranged on the screen, complete with location and timestamp. There had to have been hundreds of them. Every. Single. Recording.

We were fucked.

Time seemed to stop as Gi-huns hand tightened around the mouse, unsure where to begin. The cursor trembled, hovering over the options: Guards. Players. Outside. Games. VIP's. Front Man. Everything imaginable.

My heart plummeted as he hovered over the Front man option and clicked on it, scrolling past the other buttons. He was dedicated to finding the front man—I'll give him that. Little did he know he was sitting inches away from him.

The screen loaded quickly, pulling up a file of different recordings, all neatly organized by camera, date, and location.

I had one more chance to save us. To save our aliases. To protect this lie that we had been carefully curating the past week.

But In-ho beat me to it. "Do you really think that he walks around without his mask?" His voice echoed in my ear, reverberating off the walls.

In-ho gave me the perfect opportunity to step in, "And besides, what would you even do if you knew what he looked like? It's not like you would be able to find him on the street."

I swallowed, "We need to focus on ending the game. Knowing what he looks like isn't going to help us at all."

Gi-hun was so focused on the computer, hardly even registering our words. He disregarded us with a subtle shake of his head.

120 spoke before Gi-hun could, "Well, we are already here, we might as well look. It's not like the guards would shoot us now, they would have already."

Click.

In-ho sighed, leaning further back in his chair. I took an instinctive step backwards- every fiber of my being wanted me to run and escape. But I couldn't. I had to stand there with a brave face, waiting until they found the inevitable and exposed us.

The screen flickered and went black. My breath caught in my throat, every muscle in my body tensed as the black screen seemed to last for an eternity. The silence and tension in the room was unbearable.

Then, the screen flashed to life.

In-hos suite popped up. My fingernails dug deeper into my palms.

The lights were off—the faint glow of the screen in the front of the room illuminated the space. It reflected off the polished tiles of the floor, casted faint outlines of the couch, and created long shadows that spanned the length of the room. And it illuminated the silhouette of the front man sitting on the couch.

My pulse stuttered, a jolt of sheer panic rushed through my veins.

Everyone leaned forward, trying to make out any details they could of the man. His mask was clearly off, his hair slicked-back on his head caught the light. He donned his usual black and grey suit. Only the top of it was visible, the rest cut off by the back of the couch.

The screen in front of him was distorted in the recording. The others wouldn't know what it was, but I knew. It was the VIP's room. He must've been watching their arrival from the comfort of his room.

His silhouette sat motionless on the couch, watching. Completely motionless.

Our gazes stayed locked on the computer, waiting to see what would happen.

Suddenly, he leaned towards the side table and grabbed his decanter.

"What is he doing?" Dae-ho asked, his whisper impossibly loud to my ears.

He brought it to his mouth and lifted it up, light from the screen reflecting off the polished glass. A soft clink was heard through the recording as he placed it down, empty.

In-ho shifted beside me, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Gi-hun clicked again.

A slow, cold dread filled my body, curling around me like a vice.

The screen flickered. A front view of the couch popped up, with a direct view of his main door.

The front man was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, right arm placed on the armrest.

The light was turned on this time, showcasing the vast luxury of his room. The camera angle showed the black, leather couch that sat in the middle of his room. Beyond the couch, the main door was also in sight of the camera. The modern, black door only added to the sleek and posh aura of his suite. Everything in his room exuded sophistication—especially him, sitting there with an intense gaze.

The front man was clearly visible. Every crease in his clothing and minuscule detail in his mask was illuminated in the white lighting.

Everyone held their breath. I couldn't breathe even if I wanted to. My throat was tight. My lungs were on fire.

I leaned closer, trying to grasp any detail I could. He sat there still, completely unmoving.

"What the hell is this guy's deal?" Jung-bae laughed, "does he think he's a damn statue or something?"

No one laughed. The silence stretched throughout the room, thick and filled with an unimaginable tension. Every second that passed my pulse increased until the point it was rapid, making my hands shake and breaths come fast and shallow.

He had a glass on the side table, filled to the top with whiskey. And then I saw it, the reflection of the screen in the glass.

The screen in front of him showed the players playing red light green light.

My heart sank to my feet. My mouth went dry.

This was moments before he called me into his room where he asked me to play with him. My knees went weak.

I glanced at In-ho, his fingers drummed against his forearms. He knew what was about to happen, too.

Before I could do anything, I watched as I walked into the room. My pink jumpsuit stood out against the black and monotonous room. I was wearing my black mask, which I was ever so thankful for.

Everyone watched as I sat down on the leather couch just next to the front man.

"What do you think they are doing?" 120's voice cut through the silence like a knife, making me jump.

I took a steady breath in, running my hands over my shirt. Over the large number 002 on it. Savoring the last few moments of this identity.

Lee Min-ji, I'll miss you.

The front man's voice spoke in the recording, "002, Is everything prepared for the games?" His cold, distorted voice spoke through his mask, uncanny no matter how many times I've heard it.

His body turned to face me, his expression concealed by his mask.

I crossed my legs in the recording, turning to face him, "Yes, sir. Everything is as planned."

I took another step backwards, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Gi-hun was still focused on the screen, completely absorbed. His brows furrowed and eyes widened as he took in our words, as if trying to dissect every movement.

And then, the front man reached behind his head, taking off his mask.

He slowly, deliberately unclipped it with a practiced ease. His hair came free, tumbling down his forehead. The mask lowered, revealing his eyes, nose, and then his mouth. There was no mistaking it—it was In-ho, clear as day.

Time seemed to shatter around us. A suffocating silence fell over the room. The flickering screen cast long shadows across his face, illuminating the undeniable truth. No more mask. No more anonymity. No more Young-il.

My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to stop this, but I couldn't. It was too late. We had failed.

Gi-huns lips parted slightly as he realized what was shown on the screen. His shoulders rose and fell rapidly with every breath, as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if his whole world came crashing down around him.

Everyone watched the screen. Everyone was looking at In-ho. Doubt, uncertainty, recognition, and betrayal all flickered on their faces in quick succession.

Then, I reached upwards behind my head, fingers finding my own clasp. A quiet click. My mask came off. My hair came flowing down out of my hood, covering the sides of my face. But still, it was unmistakably me.

I could barely hear my soft exhale over my hammering heart.

Everyone slowly turned their heads towards In-ho. And then towards me. And then back at the screen. It would have been comical if the situation wasn't so dire.

Gi-hun stared at In-ho. His voice, when it came, was quiet. Trembling. "No..." His head shook as he ran his hands through his hair. "It can't be... You can't be-"

120's strong voice overtook Gi-hun's quiet one, cutting him off. "Explain."

I swallowed, looking at In-ho. He sat there, fingers tapping on the desk. He looked collected, but I could tell he was hesitating. His gaze was averted down towards his hands and his jaw clenched ever so slightly.

I turned towards the others. Their gazes felt accusatory and distant— I couldn't blame them.

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I looked at In-ho again. He exhaled slowly, but didnt stop tapping his fingers. The quiet noise stuck out to me, echoing in my head.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"I am the front man, and Min-ji is a manager who works directly under me." He announced, voice carrying throughout the room. His attitude did a whole 180 from earlier, when he was trying to act as innocent Young-il. Now, his front man attributes were showing—his voice was clipped, firm, and ruthlessly unforgiving.

A ripple of shock passed through the room as they dissected his words. My hands trembled at my sides, gripping onto my green pants.

"Was a manager. Now I want to end the game, just like you all do." I kept my gaze pointed at the ground. If I met their gaze, I felt like I would be admitting to all the crimes I've committed.

Silence followed my words. They wouldn't believe me. They couldn't. Not after I had lied to them all this time.

"Why would we believe you after this?" Jung-bae scoffed, eyes wide with disbelief.

"If she was lying, you wouldn't be standing here alive." In-ho leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Still—despite everything—his deep, brooding voice sent shivers through me.

Gi-hun let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Oh, so we should just trust you—the two people who have been running this nightmare?" He let out a sharp exhale, "How do we even know what's real or not? Did you tell us your real names? Are you guys even really married?"

No and no.

How would they ever believe us if all we kept admitting to were lies?

"N—

"Yes."

In-hos powerful voice cut me off. I glanced at him with wide eyes. He ignored me.

Gi-huns gaze snapped towards In-ho. "Yes?" His voice was laced with skepticism, "You expect me to believe that."

Dae-ho's voice cut through the tension, "Prove it."

"What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. We had just revealed that we were the masterminds behind the game, but all they were worried about is if we were really married?

My hands curled into fists at my side. I wanted to shout at him and make him believe me, but I knew that would only make the situation worse. How could we even prove we were married? We knew nothing about each other besides our real names. And our ages. This was ridiculous.

I barely had any time to react before In-ho moved.

His left hand caught my wrist. His fingers wrapped around my hand, snaking up my arm with a surprising gentleness. I instinctually wanted to shrink away from his touch. But, with a gentle yet firm pull, he urged me towards him.

My breath hitched at the sudden closeness. It was suffocating and intoxicating all at once. Warmth flooded my veins, spreading throughout my body.

And then he kissed me.

Every thought in my head stopped, my mind felt like static. My heart stuttered. The pressure of his lips on mine made my whole body flush. It left me breathless. It wasn't gentle. But it wasn't entirely rough, either. It was different. Something entirely, uniquely In-ho.

I found myself leaning into him, drawn by an invisible force I couldn't name. It just felt so right, being here kissing In-ho. The way his lips pressed against mine and the heat that grew between us felt like it was meant to happen.

It felt so real. The way his fingers grazed my skin and the way he tilted his head, deepening the kiss had me reeling.

His hands found my waist, holding me in place. His grip was possessive, but careful. As if he was scared to be touching me. The feeling of his hands on me sent a rush of heat through my body. I wanted more.

Based on the subtle urgency of his kiss, he did too.

But now wasnt the time—we had an audience, after all. In-ho knew this, too.

He pulled away and I had to physically restrain myself from whimpering. The loss of warmth was jarring, throwing me back into reality.

We stood there, inches apart, looking into each other's eyes. My breath was ragged, my heart still racing. I couldn't stop the soft smile that spread on my lips. He couldn't, either.

And then, before anyone could say anything, a chilling announcement was made, crackling through the silence.

"Detonation in thirty minutes. Please evacuate."

AN: Dw they will have a real kiss eventually (and some smut if you guys want it)