Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
---------- 〇△▢ ----------
HAN-JIN WALKED SLOWLY INTO THE HALL, SANG-WOO CATCHING UP TO HIM.
The boy was glad Sang-woo was alive, but Ali's dead. The old man's dead. The girl with the nose piercing is dead. Yeong Mee-yon is dead. They're all dead. Han-jin looked up when the group stopped, seeing 212 sit up from her bed. What? She's been here the whole time? She gave the group a wave with a grin on her face, Han-jin sighing. "Deok-su, honey, so glad you won. Ooo, 002 too!" She let out, 101 looking behind him. The boy only stared at 212, her tucking her hair behind her ear. "How... the hell." 101 stammered his speech, 212 raising her eyebrows. "What? You're looking at me like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?" She acted concerned, Deok-su staring at her wide eyed. 212 only scoffed when he didn't reply, pointing to the masked men. "The masked guys all called me this, 'the weakest link'." 212 explained, Han-jin swallowing.
He couldn't forgive himself. He shouldn't have cheated in the rock, paper, scissors. "Like when nobody chooses you as a partner for things when you were a kid." The woman whined, pointing to a random player. "This guy knows about the weakest link!" She cackled, pulling Han-jin out of his trance. "And after that, they gently escorted me back to this dorm." She admitted, laughing, "Because... they said that it's all part of a rule that in the old days," 212 shrugged, "not to let a kid turn into some kind of outcast, I guess. Goddamn it." She cursed, Han-jin tilting his head. "It's amazing, isn't it? You better thank 002 for not picking me or I'd be dead right now!" The woman cackled more, everyone walking past 101, including Han-jin as the man glared at him. Sang-woo looked up to the Tv, seeing 18 players left and 43.9 billion won.
○△▢
THE FRONT MAN ARRIVED BACK AT HIS OFFICE ON TIME, MOVING TOWARDS THE PHONE.
He stopped himself when he saw the phone put back the opposite way he had put it, picking up the ringing phone. "Front Man speaking." He addressed, nodding as the other line spoke. "I'm happy to hear you enjoy the game, sir." He spoke, the other line humming. "Yes, sir. The host is currently waiting for the VIPs to arrive." Front Man informed, putting the phone down the way he always put it down,
not the way he had found it in.
The man walked to the elevator, nodding and cocking his gun before the door. Turning around, he held his gun up, sighing. "Are you in here right now?" The man called, knowing Jun-ho was there or had previously been there. "You're good, but you made one mistake. I always put the receiver down the other way." The Front Man announced, opening one of the many doors in the corridor. Pointing the gun in, he found no one. Testing the one opposite and finding the same thing, Front Man stalked back down the corridor. "The same bullet you shot was from a Smith and Wesson M60 revolver, standard issue for Korean police." Front Man opened another door, finding nothing. "What's a cop doing here without a partner?" The man opened the opposite door again, nothing appearing. He inhaled sharply, stalking to the last two doors.
