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JUN-HO STOPPED WHEN HE REACHED A CLIFF EDGE.
Turning around, he saw a square masked man with his gun in the air, multiple triangle armed men surrounding him. Jun-ho's heart sank to his stomach, this was it. He was either going to die or be tortured. Pointing his gun at them, he was terrified. "Police. Put down your weapons, you got that?" He warned, holding up his phone. None of the masked men replied, Front Man making his way up to where they were. "We already know everything about you all. The coast guard will be here soon." Jun-ho continued, Front Man shrugging. "I don't know. Have the Korean police ever been quick to act?" He asked, Jun-ho's face paling. "And besides, you barely get any signal around here. I don't know what you tried to send, but I doubt it went through." He advised, Jun-ho pointing his gun at the man.
"Come and turn yourself in. You'll get a plea bargain with that." Jun-ho advised himself, Front Man not standing down. "If you drop your gun right now and hand over the phone, I might let you live." The man stepped forward, Jun-ho shaking his head. "Stop right there." He ordered, the Front Man surprisingly doing as told. "That gun of yours holds five bullets. But for police regulations, one chamber must remain empty, and one must be filled with a blank. That leaves three live rounds. You've already used one to kill a man," Jun-ho cocked his gun, on his last bullet, "and another one to break the lock. Which means that there's only one bullet left in your gun." Front Man informed, Jun-ho taking shaky breaths.
"One bullet is more than enough to kill you."
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HAN-JIN KEPT HIS EYES ON HIS LAP THE ENTIRE MEAL.
He felt like a terrible person. He ate all this food without a single thought to his grandpa. The masked circle men were taking away all of the empty dishes. Everyone stayed quiet as the square man took out his radio. "He doesn't suspect anything." He advised the Front Man, watching as Han-jin looked up when one single item was left on his table. A knife. The same knife he ate with. Looking to the others, they had a single knife too. Sang-woo watched as Han-jin took a slow reach towards the knife, his hand hovering over it. He didn't want to participate anymore. He was astounded at how far he had come and he wasn't proud of himself. He wish that his food was poisoned or anything. He would even let Gi-hun or Sae-byeok kill him at this point. Not Sang-woo, he wouldn't hurt the boy even a little bit.
He felt as if too many people had died on his behalf. Like they had won for him to continue. That wasn't the case, of course, but Han-jin couldn't brush off four hundred and fifty two people dying. He should've been one of them. Gi-hun and Sae-byeok made eye contact. He had to team with her. Sang-woo had pocketed his knife already, Han-jin shakily picking up his. He flipped the blade, seeing his reflection and it looked broken. Like a animatronic doll that had ran out of batteries. He didn't even react at his own reflection, Gi-hun watching as his hand dropped near his chair, staring at the chandelier type decoration in the middle of the table.
