The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass by in a blur, I was still shaken from what happened during mingle. The image of In-ho snapping that man's neck replayed in my mind. His face—a mixture of mania and ruthlessness— was more of a shock to me than anything else. Perhaps I preferred it with his mask on, at least then he doesn't look so uncanny.

I sat on the bed with my legs dangling off, trying to avoid thinking about the steep drop right before me. The others were conversing, but I just couldn't bring myself to join them. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. They all seemed to sense my need for solitude, which I appreciated more than they knew. I caught them glancing my way a few times, but they convinced themselves that I was okay and left me alone.

A sharp bang was heard and everyone turned their heads towards the front of the room. All conversations ceased when we saw who it was: the manager and a few guards. Their presence cast a heavy tension between the players. We all knew what they were capable of so no one wanted to upset them, lest they be eliminated.

Without missing a beat the manager announced that the prize money was now 35.6 billion won. Split evenly between the hundred of us left, we would all get 356 million won.

A few players from the O side of the room grumbled and complained, but the players on the X side remained hopeful. That was a lot of money, but would it be enough to win against greed?

As the manager explained more about the money and the vote, my thoughts wandered—drifting back towards the game we played earlier.

Me and In-ho being so close one moment and then seeing him kill someone seconds later was like whiplash. They were two polar extremes: fiery hot tension and icy cold stares. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. One one hand, he was protecting us—protecting me. It would have been impossible for us to sneak out without causing suspicion and ruining the game. But also, the man was just trying to survive. We wouldn't have died either way, so the moral and empathetic part of me decided that In-ho was wrong: the man should have lived.

Though, I didn't know how much more morality I had left in me. I felt myself slipping into the trap of the game, seeing the players as money and not caring about their survival. They were just pawns, just numbers in the grand scheme of things. I was losing my humanity, and that scared me more than In-ho ever could.

I knew that I couldn't win the money, but still, what would humans do when pitted against each other in a game for their life?

Fight.

And fight I would—though— in a different way than one would suspect. In a sense, it would seem almost illogical. I wanted to get these players out of here alive. I wanted to fight for their survival.

The manager started the vote. In-ho was called to go first. Without hesitation, he decided to keep playing. The shrill beep echoed throughout the room and he seemed to command the room with the way he walked towards the O side.

"002."

My heart lurched as I made my way towards the voting station. Every step seemed like an eternity and I felt everyone's gaze locked onto me. The feeling didn't make me nervous though. If anything, their stares made me want to prove myself even more. However, there was one, sharp gaze that made me hesitate. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I knew who it was but I didn't dare look.

My hand hesitated over the buttons. What would In-ho do if I voted to leave? It's not like he could get mad at me out here, but in his room? He had the power to do whatever his heart desired. I swallowed, hard, at the thought.

I knew that I would end up regretting my decision if we had to play another game, if they had to play another game. If any of them ended up dying, I would never forgive myself. In the end, my vote was my decision, so I moved my trembling hand over to the X button and pressed it.

The red light illuminated my face as I stood, frozen, staring at my hand on the button. I really did it. I went against In-ho. I went against the game and everything I had been protecting the last few years.

Maybe In-ho wouldn't read too much into it. I could only hope that he thought it was a ploy to get the others to trust me. But the way he stared at me— cold, knowing, demanding— I knew he saw right through me.

The manager held out a patch for me and I took it, hesitantly putting it on my chest. The red fabric felt foreign under my touch as I walked over to the X's side in a haze.

The vote was one to one basically the whole vote. Everyone was kept on their toes awaiting their fates. Every O vote was countered with an X. But somewhere near the 200s, one player switched their X vote to an O. A chorus of sighs were heard as more people followed their lead. By the time it was Dae-hos turn to vote, the O's had a four person advantage.

We just needed four of the five players left to vote X so it would be a tie. Time seemed to drag on as they walked up to cast their votes. I couldn't bear to watch. I averted my gaze downward, studying the new patch on my chest. The only thing I heard was the buzzing of the buttons and the collective sighs throughout the X side of the room.

My hands started to tremble. If we didnt get out of here, if we had to play another game, my vote would have been meaningless. I would have gone against In-ho for absolutely nothing. At least if they were able to leave I would have something to prove for my... disobedience.

When Gi-hun was called up to vote it was already decided. The player just before him, player 428, pressed O. A pit of dread formed in my stomach. The game would continue, and there was nothing I could do about it.

—-—-—-—

It was later that evening when it happened. I didn't know how it started. One moment I was explaining to the group how he had killed that man in mingle and then, like a spark went off, we were yelling. I wasn't sure exactly how it had happened, but honestly I didn't care. All I knew was that I was yelling at In-ho, and we were both furious .

We both understood that we had to protect our aliases so our words were very carefully chosen. They were able to get the point across, but not enough to reveal anything. If you were a spectator listening in, you probably wouldn't have been able to understand it— the secret jabs we took at each other and the sly, underhand meaning of our words.

It may have looked like a simple quarrel between the X's and O's, but we both knew that it was much, much more than that. This was months, years of rage that I had pushed down and ignored. I knew that I shouldn't be yelling at my boss like this, but I simply couldn't bring myself to care. He could do whatever he wanted to me later, but I wouldn't forgive myself if I was to pass up this opportunity.

Yes, he could hurt me later. But now, all he was able to do was sit there and listen. He had no choice but to listen to me if he wanted to protect our aliases.

These were things that had to have been said. These were things that everyone—guards and players alike—were wondering about the man behind the game.

"Why are you like this? Don't you have a sliver of empathy in you?" Or in other words: Why are you like this, how could you possibly run these games knowing that everyone dies? Knowing that it's your fault?

He said nothing for a moment and I had wondered if my words even reached him at all. Though based on his erratic breaths and his clenched fists, he had, and he was choosing his next words very carefully.

The silence that stretched between us and that echoed throughout the room was near unbearable. I wanted nothing more than to shake him like a toy and force the words to fall out of him. I felt the gaze of every single player on us, they were all silent, too scared to intervene in what they thought was a lovers quarrel. They were all staring. Good— let them. Let them see the monsters this place can create.

In-hos voice came out rough and gritty, almost like he was forcing himself to respond.

"I didn't have a choice. Do you want to live?"

"Yes! But he wanted to live too!"

"Darling, it's kill or be killed here, and I would prefer it if we lived."

My heart wanted to stop and race at the same time. Darling ? He could not be serious. And yes, being empathic would get you killed, especially here. But not for us, nobody should die for us as we had no real consequences. Why didn't he understand that?

"There were other ways." I said through gritted teeth, barely containing what self control I had left.

"Like what— killing myself? Killing you?" His half-lidded eyes bore into mine and my blood went cold. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. The weight of his words pressed down on me, suffocating me. Would he really kill me? Well, I had already dug my grave, might as well make it deeper.

I walked towards him with full confidence in my steps. I refused to let him see my fear. If I hesitated, he would take the chance to tear me down. I couldn't allow that to happen, especially not now when I had the upper hand. Here, I had the advantage of being around others, and I had to make the most of it.

Stopping just inches away, I raised a shaking hand and pointed it right at the blue patch on his chest.

"Do you only care about the money? What about the poor, desperate people in here who just want to leave?"

He was quiet for a moment, so I decided to use the silence to my benefit.

"Do you not care about me?"

His expression did not waver, but I saw something flicker in his eyes—something I couldn't quite place. He was completely speechless for a few seconds, though this time I could tell he wasn't calculating. He genuinely had no idea what to say.

I knew he didn't care about me, not in the slightest. He would have no issue killing me without a second though. But he had to say something to keep up our ploy.

He scoffed, "Of course I care about you—"

"Just not as much as your late wife, right?"

His face stiffened and his eyes burned with rage, I could tell I had pushed him too far. His eyes darkened and I practically felt the energy shift in the room. What once felt like raw fury now felt dark, brooding, and f urious .

I had never seen him this angry—not when he had killed those with the organ harvesting network, not when Gi-hun had returned to the game, not even when I had warned him about the impending rebellion.

No, this was a completely different kind of anger, one that truly scared me.

He closed the gap between us and our eyes met, unadulterated fury collided with a steady irritation. The tension was so thick it was able to be cut with a knife. Everything seemed to disappear— the whispers, the stares, the stress from the game—until it was just him and I. I could feel the intensity of his glare, but I wanted both to revel in it and shrink under it.

But now, being inches away from him, I could see the pain in his eyes. He covered it instantly with the mask of anger, but it was undeniable. I truly had crossed a line.

His lips parted and I could practically see the words forming—words that I didn't want to hear—but before anything came out, a voice interrupted him.

"How many years have you two been married?"

We both turned to look at the voice, whatever moment we had just shared gone in an instant. It was an old woman with 149 written on her jumpsuit.

"Stop yelling at each other and make up already! The last thing you want to be doing right now is fighting!"

She took our confusion as a sign to keep talking, "At least sleep on it, there is no use in arguing after a high stress situation."

Without even looking at him I made a beeline towards my bed which was, unfortunately, right next to his. I slid under the covers and pulled the blanket over my head, drowning out the conversations that had eased back into the room and the weight of the stares.

There were only ten minutes left until lights out, I just had to make it until then. At least, with the lights dimmed, I would be able to fall asleep. I turned towards the wall and tried to shut my eyes, but I just couldn't relax. My heart and mind were still racing from our argument. I couldn't shake the weight of our words—of his words especially. Would he really kill me?

As the seconds ticked by I tried to focus on my breathing, though my thoughts wouldn't stop swirling around in my head. Sleep evaded me. I heard the bed beside mine shift and I knew that In-ho had gotten in. I didn't dare turn to look at him.

When In-ho woke me up to talk, what would I even say? How could I come back from that attack on his wife? My thoughts spiraled. What would he say? Would he simply kill me without waiting for my explanation, or would he wait to see what I had to say? Or maybe I would get lucky and he would think it's all an act?

Only time would tell. Time that seemed to stretch on, endlessly. The lights went out and the quiet murmurs of conversation were replaced by soft snores and the ruffling of sheets.

I shut my eyes and held them tight, hoping that I would fall asleep, but it was no use. The silence in the room grew heavier with every second. Every tiny sound seemed amplified— the creak of the bed frame, the soft breaths of In-ho. My body ached, whether from stress or physical exertion, I wasn't sure.

My thoughts kept circling back to our argument and our future meeting. I couldn't shake my anxiety. Sleep was impossible. No matter how many times I shifted under my blanket or turned, I wasn't able to relax. My mind refused to quiet. Every possible outcome of our next conversation played on loop, most of them ending in my death.

I clenched my fists under the blanket. I knew there was no use in overthinking, but I couldn't help myself.

I had no sense of time in this dimly lit room, there were no clocks or windows to even hint at the time. I didn't know if it had been minutes or hours, but my whole body tensed the moment I felt a steady tapping on my back.