Chapter Text
They never get the chance to rebel. Somehow in a place where they are watched constantly, it hadn’t occurred to Gi-hun that the people in charge would hear them conspiring to come and kill them.
While the clock ticks down for lights out and all of Gi-hun’s team are getting into position, the timer stops. The doors open. The guards pour in, making a beeline straight for Gi-hun. Gi-hun struggles, but it’s useless. As they pull him out from under the bed, the square guard at the front makes an announcement.
“We apologize for interrupting your sleep,” the robotic voice starts. “Player 456 has been caught plotting to violate the spirit of the games and the players’ right to choose. So, we have determined a fitting punishment; a special game that will let him have the choice he wants, while allowing those who want to stay a chance to let player 456 know exactly how they feel about it. Bear with us as we set up this new bonus round.”
Something sharp is plunged into the side of Gi-hun’s neck. His vision blackens at the edges, and his awareness slips through his fingers as he’s carried out.
He wakes up cold. His arms hurt. He can’t see anything. He tries to move before realizing that he’s strung up, hanging from his wrists.
He can feel that his tracksuit has been removed. He is completely exposed, save for a pair of briefs. He is only surprised that they left him with that much dignity, at least.
The blindfold is torn from his face. All of the players stare back at him. He twists his head back, far enough to see pink guards holding their guns against their chest, an unspoken but obvious threat. No one will help him.
Worse, a figure in black steps up, blocking his vision. His mask isn’t like any of the others, marking him as a rank above the rest. Without a doubt, Gi-hun knows this is the man he’s been looking for. He doesn’t even need to hear him speak to be sure of it. This is the Frontman.
“Player 456,” the Frontman greets him. “Welcome to the special round.”
Gi-hun struggles to break free of the chains, even knowing it’s futile.
“Let me out, you bastard!” He snarls at the man. “What happened to your so called fairness?” He spits, filling every syllable with his contempt.
“You were the one who tried to violate the spirit of this game,” the Frontman answered. “You were plotting to try and end the game early, weren’t you? Votes be damned.”
Gi-hun scowled at him.
“It’s clear to me that you will continue to be a problem if left to your own devices,” the Frontman droned on, his robotic voice grating on Gi-hun’s nerves. “Thus, I have made the decision to disqualify you.”
Gi-hun’s heart sank. He didn’t care about his own life, but if he was eliminated, he wouldn’t be able to save anyone. Everything he set out to do would have been for nothing.
“Serves you right!” He heard someone call out from the crowd. He turned to look and saw player 100 and his gang of O voters cheering, going so far as to applaud his execution.
“Go ahead and eliminate him!” Player 100 jeered. “We’re waiting!”
Suddenly, gunshots rang in Gi-hun’s ears. He framed his neck back to see the pink soldiers firing towards the ceiling. The frontman had his hand up, likely the signal for crowd control. When he let his hand fall, the soldiers stopped shooting.
A square guard stepped out on Gi-hun’s other side to address the crowd. “Interruptions during the special game will not be tolerated. Players will speak when spoken to.” The guard nodded, and stepped back out of Gi-hun’s sight.
“You will not be eliminated, but you will be removed from the game after the bonus round,” the Frontman told him. Gi-hun furrowed his brows.
“So you’re sending me home?” Gi-hun shook his head. He hated the idea of that even more than dying here; to make it this far, only to be discarded and thrown back out on the streets like he had been all those years ago, told to think of it as a dream… It infuriated him.
The Frontman inclined his head, not replying. “Allow me to explain the rules of the bonus game.”
Gi-hun flinched at the sound of something cracking through the air like a whip. He saw it in the Frontman’s hand. A riding crop. He sneered at it. Another reminder that he was less than human to these people.
“You will be given the chance to allow the players their freedom, as you wish,” the Frontman told him. Gi-hun waited for the catch. “For each player you choose to release, you will receive one lashing.”
“However, the players are still granted a choice too,” the Frontman went on. “Each player you grant the ability to leave will be given the choice to seek compensation from you on the way out.” He waved to his guards, and they wheeled out a tub of water, putting it a few feet in front of him.
“The player may opt to seek a prize in a different way. For every second they hold your head under water, they will receive 1 million won. After, they will be given another choice. They can choose to leave and take what they win in this bonus round home with them, or they can stay and have what they earn in the bonus round added on to whatever prize money they may win if they continue.”
“We will start in numerical order, from lowest to highest. First, player 006,” the Frontman stated. Immediately, alarm bells rang in Gi-hun’s head.
“Wait!” Gi-hun shouted. “What about Young-il? What happened to him?!” He thrashed in his restraints uselessly. The Frontman only tilted his head.
“Can you not guess?” The Frontman was mocking him. It made him want to throttle him. It was easier to focus on the anger than think about what happened to Young-il. “Player 006. Will you take the lashing, or will you send her back to the games?”
Gi-hun sneered. “Can you not guess?” He repaid the Frontman’s mockery in kind. The Frontman didn’t move, so Gi-hun sighed. “Yes. I’ll take the lashing. Let her go.”
Quicker than Gi-hun could blink, the Frontman’s arm slashed through the air. Gi-hun gasped as the riding crop whipped across his chest, grazing his left nipple. For some reason, Gi-hun had assumed the Frontman would be striking his back.
It wasn’t as sharp as a blade- it didn’t cut through his skin, but it did undeniably sting.
The Frontman observed him, his mask letting nothing slip through. Then, he turned on his heel to face the player. A woman looking to be about Gi-hun’s age but a foot shorter than he was stepped up to the front of the crowd.
“Player 006,” the Frontman addressed her. “You have been granted the choice to leave. Will you take it?”
The woman nodded eagerly, her head shaking up and down so hard her body shook with it. It made Gi-hun’s pain from the sting of the riding crop fade. He had saved one life- that already made everything he had suffered through to get here worth it.
“As you wish,” the Frontman nodded. “Before you go, would you like to leave with only your life and go home penniless, or would you like to participate in the bonus round and earn a portion of the prize money?”
The woman looked to Gi-hun guiltily. He felt bad for her. He had been in her shoes; he knew what could happen if she returned home penniless. Her organs could be trafficked, or worse- she could be. He nodded, signaling that it was okay. He could take a few seconds without air if it meant saving her from whatever waited for her outside. Her eyes widened.
“I-!” The woman stammered out. “I will participate in the bonus round!”
“Very well,” the Frontman said. He retrieved a remote from his pocket.
The Frontman pressed a button, and Gi-hun’s arms were moving. The rectangular frame his restraints were attached to whirred, and his arms were pulled apart. At the corner of the frame they stretched awkwardly, an annoying twinge in his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and bared it.
His wrists were pulled down, down, until his knees buckled to the floor beneath him, forcing him to kneel over the tub of water they wheeled in front of him.
“The timer will start when you submerge him. The second his head breaks the water, your time is up,” the Frontman explained to her. “Begin.”
She scampered up towards Gi-hun, silently mouthing an apology to him. Her hand went to the back of his head, and he took a deep breath as he was pushed under water.
He could take it. He thought he could, at least. It burned his nostrils as the water seeped up his nose, but it was bearable. At a million won a second, he couldn’t imagine she would hold him under long. And he had the chance to get a nice lungful of air before going under, so it wouldn’t be too bad. The pressure in his lungs, full as they were, though, did start to burn. He huffed through his nose, trying to dislodge the water that was leaking in, but as soon as he stopped in an attempt to ration that air, more would leak in. It was uncomfortable, but-
She finally pulled his head above water. Gi-hun took a gasping breath through his mouth as water ran over his lips, and he snorted as he tried to get it out of his nose. The water was worse than the whip.
He didn’t have much time to catch his breath though. He heard the Frontman press the button on his remote again, and he was being lifted up by the wrists once more. His toes barely touched the ground, leaving him to dangle from the restraints. He coughed. Meanwhile, the woman was ushered away out of sight by a pink guard.
“Player 007. Spare or stay?” The Frontman asked from behind him.
“Spare,” Gi-hun huffed out. He didn’t even have to think about it. He winced as the crop slashed across his back, causing his muscles to clench up. He coughed, looking out at the crowd.
Only 90 or so more players left. He could do this.
The son of the woman he met in mingle stepped up to the platform.
“Will you accept player 456’s offer to leave?” The Frontman asked.
007- Gi-hun regretted not learning his name- looked reluctantly back to the crowd. Gi-hun followed his gaze and saw the boy’s mother nodding to encourage him. He turned back, resolve in his eyes.
“I will,” 007 said.
“And will you participate in the bonus round?”
007 hesitated, looking at Gi-hun. Before Gi-hun could nod, 007’s eyes already darted back to the Frontman.
“Yes…” the guilt in 007’s voice was clear to hear. Gi-hun frowned. He would have allowed himself to be pushed under anyway. He would have said as much, if the Frontman wasn’t already pressing the button to bring his restraints back down to the floor.
Gi-hun was more prepared this time, kneeling down slowly as he was dragged to the floor rather than fighting it. 007 stepped up beside him.
“It’s okay,” Gi-hun reassured him, even as 007 refused to meet his gaze. “Do what you must.”
007 finally looked him in the eye then. Gi-hun was the one being tortured, but it looked as though the one standing about to do it to him was the one who was going to cry. 007’s lip trembled as he grabbed Gi-hun’s head, and Gi-hun closed his eyes as he was dunked under again.
He tried to hold his breath longer this time, rather than fighting that stinging feeling as water ran up his nose. It was hard, but he didn’t have to do it for long before 007 was already pulling his head up.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ 007 was dragged away by the guards, and Gi-hun was already being lifted off the ground again, tugged up by his restraints.
007 was too soft to make it here for much longer. He was glad he was able to save him.
“Player 008. Spare or stay?”
“Spare,” Gi-hun said. He didn’t recognize the number, but regardless of who it was, it was the only answer he would give. He would save as many people as he could, no matter what.
He held on to that thought as he was struck across the back again, a diagonal slash across where he was whipped earlier.
Player 008 walked up to the platform. Gi-hun saw his patch- an O voter, this time.
“I’ll leave.” He said without being prompted. “But yes, I’ll participate.”
The Frontman pressed the button to bring him down to his knees again. The stretch was a mild annoyance every time.
The moment he was down, 008 dunked his hair in the water without hesitation, not even giving Gi-hun a chance to take a breath before his head was under the water.
His lungs started burning right away. He thrashed in 008’s grip desperately, survival instinct kicking in. But 008 was stronger than him. He couldn’t get his head up, no matter how much he squirmed, and the exertion made his lungs ache for air even more desperately.
His body went slack as the fight drained out of him. He couldn’t pass out this early. But he didn’t have a choice.
His vision was already going dark around the edges.
He had to fight back somehow. He gave one last, desperate thrash, surprising 008. His grip loosened just enough for Gi-hun to get his head above the water. He gasped for air, and 008 tried to push him back down. His head was only dipped below the water before he was pulled back out this time, but it was enough for water to fill his lungs. He coughed, barely hearing the sound of the Frontman’s voice over his own heaving breaths.
“Your time is up,” the Frontman was saying.
“But I’m not done-“ he heard someone, player 008, protest.
“His head breached the surface. You only get one chance,” the Frontman pressed the button to drag Gi-hun up. Gi-hun was still coughing, desperately trying to get his lungs clear as he watched the player being dragged away.
He was still choking for air when the Frontman turned to him again.
“Player 015. Spare or stay?”
Gi-hun couldn’t stop coughing.
“Spa-“ he choked again, dissolving into another fit of coughs.
“Quickly. If you cannot answer, the bonus round will end.” The Frontman said sternly.
His throat burned as he ground out the word. “Spare!”
His retribution was instant. A sharp lash across his thigh this time. Gi-hun gasped, breathing in a few more stray droplets of water.
His eyes burned with tears and snot ran down his nose. He looked at the player as the Frontman spoke to them. It was an X voter. Gi-hun dared to hope.
“Will you participate in the bonus round?”
“I’m sorry,” the man said, looking genuinely remorseful. Gi-hun understood. He didn’t hold it against him. He turned back to the Frontman. “Yes. I’ll participate.”
The Frontman pressed the button, and Gi-hun focused on catching his breath on the way down as he was lowered back to the floor.
“Are you ready?” Player 015 asked him. Before Gi-hun could reply, the Frontman cut in.
“Start now, or lose your chance.”
“Just, please, wait-“ player 015 protested. In a way, it warmed Gi-hun’s heart to see him sticking his neck out on his behalf.
“Too slow,” the Frontman said. He pressed the button, and Gi-hun was pulled back up.
“Wait- he didn’t-“ Gi-hun didn’t want to hold his breath anymore, but he felt horrible. 015 was losing any chance of going home with a single cent just because he took a second to check on Gi-hun’s well-being. He thought back to his own desperation when he came here the first time. The loan sharks coming for his organs.
“Player 015. Will you leave with nothing, or stay and play more games?” The Frontman cut him off before he could say anything else.
Player 015 looked back to Gi-hun. His eyes caught on the wound across his leg, and he squeezed them shut, turning away.
“I’ll stay.”
Gi-hun’s heart sank.
“Very well,” the Frontman gestured for him to go back into the crowd, Gi-hun lost him among the sea of green jackets.
The Frontman turned back to Gi-hun.
“Player 017. Spare or stay?”
Things became a bit blurry from there. He spared everyone he could, regardless of their patch.
Player 018. Spare. A lash across his sternum. Another minute without oxygen.
Player 019. Spare. A lash on his thigh. Another player choosing to stay anyway.
Played 021. Spare. A lash over his spine.
Player 022. Spare. A lash on his calves.
023. Another lash on his back.
024. A lash to the flank.
025. A sting on his back that Gi-hun swore drew blood.
028. A red line imprinted on his other thigh.
035. His back again.
037. His ribcage.
039. Another weeping player apologizing as they nearly drowned him.
Universally, all of them opted to waterboard him after, though the X’s tended to be more merciful. They would hold him down for closer to thirty seconds than a minute, which was light work compared to what the O voters put him through. Still, he was lucky to not run into another player as spiteful as 008 had been when he held Gi-hun’s head under. But he was becoming exhausted.
20 lashes down. 70 or so to go.
“Player 044. Spare or stay?”
Gi-hun was too tired to look up and see who it was. The numbers sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen them.
“Spare,” he wheezed out, the same answer he always gave.
“Player 456,” he heard a grating voice call out to him. He finally looked up.
The first woman he had spoken to when he got here. He mentally groaned, bracing himself to be held under for another minute at least.
044 looked at Gi-hun. “I told you you do not have any control over your fate. See where your actions have landed you? It’s your destiny. The more you fight it, the further you are sent down the path that was preordained.”
“Enough,” the Frontman cut her off. “Will you participate in the bonus round?”
“I will,” she declared, proud. She continued as Gi-hun was lowered to his knees again. “I will show him what happens when he meddles with fate.”
He took a deep breath as he was lowered. He had become familiar with the routine. He was so damned lightheaded now, though, his head spun every time he was pulled up and down.
She didn’t just push him under like the others, though. When her hand came to rest on the back of his head, she twisted it, yanking him back by his hair. He yelped, too tired to cover his reactions anymore, which lost him precious air.
When he opened his mouth to cry out, that was when she shoved him under- starting him off with a lungful of water.
He couldn’t take it. He thrashed around desperately, choking and screaming underwater. She gripped his hair tighter, almost clawing his scalp. It was too much.
His vision began to go black. His limbs were going numb.
But he couldn’t give up. He had to break the surface. He had to save as many as he could.
In a last ditch effort to free himself from her grip, he tried the opposite tactic. He pushed himself deeper into the water, tearing his hair free of her grasp and then ripping his head back.
He spat out as much water as he could, lurching forward in his restraints. Water dripped down his face, gushing out of his nose and down his chin and chest. He took a heaving breath.
He couldn’t keep doing this. He just couldn’t take another round like that.
“God,” he choked out. “Fuck…”
“I’ll stay,” player 044 said, looking at the Frontman. She cast her gaze down on Gi-hun, smirking before she turned on her heel and left.
Gi-hun was tugged back up by the press of a button. Too quick, his break from the torment was over. He was pulled back up, his shoulders straining and his lungs burning.
“Player 047. Spare or save?” The Frontman asked.
And for the first time, Gi-hun hesitated.
He couldn’t keep doing this forever. He had people who actually wanted saving. Jung-bae. Dae-ho. And most importantly, Jun-hee.
She needed saving more than anyone. And she was more than a hundred numbers away- though… not every player was alive between hers and 047. But…
He hated it. He hated making this choice. But he had to save his energy.
“Player 456. Are you unable to continue?” The Frontman prompted impatiently.
“Just give me a moment” Gi-hun snapped, his eyes scanning the crowd.
He finally saw 047’s patch. O voter.
“Player 456-“ the Frontman started, but Gi-hun interrupted him.
“Stay,” Gi-hun said. His eyes fell to the floor, shame burning inside him. He just couldn’t. He had to choose his battles.
Murmurs echoed through the room.
“That’s not fair!” He heard player 047 cry out. “Why did everyone else get to-“
“Player 456 has made his choice,” the Frontman said. “If you do not stop-“
“No, this is bullshit!” Gi-hun heard the player cry out. Footsteps echoed through the room, and Gi-hun looked up to see a furious man charging towards him. Gi-hun flinched back, but there was nowhere for him to go, strung up by his wrists like he was.
The player was shouting. “I want my turn! I want my-“
A gunshot rang out. Player 047 fell to the ground. Dead.
Because Gi-hun hadn’t spared him. Or…
Because Gi-hun hadn't given him the chance to drown him.
He instantly berated himself for the thought- like he was trying to justify the man’s death. It didn’t matter. Whoever he was, whatever he wanted to do, he didn’t deserve to die.
“Those who do not follow the rules of the special game will be eliminated,” the Frontman said coldly. There wasn’t the slightest hint of emotion in his voice. “Let us continue.”
The crowd was silent. Gi-hun could see the shock on all of their faces. He found Jung-bae’s eyes.
Jung-bae looked horrified. His eyes flickered between Gi-hun, and the body on the ground.
Gi-hun felt so ashamed, he had to look away. Unfortunately, the Frontman was ready to provide a distraction.
“Player 052. Spare or stay?”
Gi-hun looked up. Player 052. X voter.
“Spare,” he said, his voice low and rough.
Another lash to his back. He flinched, tensing up at the blow.
Another half a minute under water. But the X’s weren’t trying to make him pass out. They were just trying to make enough to not be killed the moment they got out. Many of them had to have debts at least as high as Gi-hun had had when he came here last time.
If he were given this chance, it would’ve taken him more than 5 minutes of holding someone underwater to make enough to pay off his debts. So they had to only be getting enough to make a down payment, something to keep themselves off the table of organ trafficking loan sharks for another month or two.
30 seconds would be less than a tenth of what he himself would have needed. So he couldn’t blame them for 30 seconds.
He was dragged back up. He took slow, shaking breaths.
“Player 055. Spare or stay?”
Another O voter. Gi-hun didn’t have the strength to take the risk.
“Stay,” He said, his voice cracking. The O voters knew better than to protest, now.
It went on.
Player 058. X voter. Spare. Another red line drawn on his back by the crack of a whip, and another minute spent nearly drowning.
Player 062. X voter. Spare. Another lash across his stomach. His lungs burned for air.
Player 064. X voter. Spare. A lash on his arm, causing his shoulders to strain even more as his full body weight was shifted to the other arm.
Player 065. O voter. Stay. He hated that he was grateful for the chance to catch his breath.
Player 067. X Voter. Spare. He remembered Saebyok as he was lashed across the stomach. Her blood soaking through her shirt. He could take this pain. It was nothing compared to what others had suffered in here.
Player 072. X. Spare. A lash to his back. An apologetic but firm hand holding him under.
Player 080. X. Spare. A lash to his thigh.
Player 084. X. Spare. Another lash to his back. Another dizzying moment without air. His brain was so deprived of oxygen it was getting hard to tell for how long.
Player 088. O. Stay. Another crack in his chest as his heart broke for another person he was sending to their grave.
Player 094. X. Spare. Another lash to his chest.
Player 096. O. Stay.
Player 100. O. Stay.
He realized they were all starting to blur together for him. It was becoming automatic. It was when he saw player 100 glaring at him that he realized he couldn’t even remember the faces of the previous players. He was looking at them as numbers rather than people. Only taking their patch into account, as if the choice to vote O or X said everything about who they were and nothing else mattered.
Player 102. X. Spare. A stinging pain on his thigh. His thoughts kept drifting as he was held underwater again.
That mindset… Was the same as the VIPs. He was thinking exactly the same way as the people who ran this factory of human misery, and he couldn’t even stop himself. He hated himself for it. When he was pulled above the water again, he couldn’t even recognize his reflection in the surface. He was turning into what the Frontman wanted him to be.
Player 105. X. Spare. He couldn’t tell if his back was bleeding from the lash, or if it was water running down from his hair.
He tried to force himself to look at the next player closely. A woman. Bobbed hair.
Player 120. He vaguely remembered speaking to her. X voter. Spare. She spoke, more than just giving an answer to whether or not she would participate in drowning him.
“Can I choose whether or not to stay after everyone else has chosen?” She said. Her eyes didn’t leave Gi-hun’s battered and bloodied body as she spoke.
“You choose now or you do not get to choose at all,” The Frontman told her.
She looked behind her, to the crowd. She must have seen something important, because her shoulders fell, and she nodded.
“Then I’ll stay. And I won’t participate,” Her eyes flickered between Gi-hun and the Frontman.
Gi-hun didn’t understand. She was an X voter.
“Why?” Gi-hun croaked out. “Why would you throw your life away? You have the chance to escape… Why won’t you-” He dissolved into a fit of coughs. She looked at him, pity as clear as day.
“Player 120, take your place with the others,” The Frontman interrupted before she could answer. He took a moment to look at Gi-hun closely.
When he spoke again, it wasn’t to announce the next number to the crowd. It was low, just enough for Gi-hun to hear.
“I suppose you aren’t the only one who wants to play the hero game,” the Frontman murmured to him. Before Gi-hun could react, the Frontman straightened up, and his torture continued.
“Player 124. Spare or Stay?”
He looked back to the player. Another X voter. One he didn’t recognize, but he tried to this time, staring into the boy’s frightened face to memorize it.
“Spare,” Gi-hun didn’t even have to think about it. He received another strike on his back, where the skin was the most sensitive. He cringed at the feeling of the riding crop cutting across the already raised bumps.
And so it went. Between the oxygen deprivation and the pain of the whip, he lost count of how many he spared, how many lashes he took. But he remembered flashes.
Player 149, the old woman, the mother he and Young-il had gone into a room with in mingle. She had gotten on her knees and thanked him, and refused to waterboard him before she left to reunite with her son.
Player 222. Jun-hee. She shook her head when offered the chance to waterboard him too. She was too kind, even for millions of won. He could have taken at least ten seconds for her. He said so.
“Come on,” Gi-hun rasped. “Please, I don’t want you to leave empty handed.”
She still refused. “I can’t do it. I won’t. You’ve done enough for me, please.”
The Frontman ordered her away before Gi-hun could say anything more.
He wished there was more he could do for her that hang there and shiver in the cold air of the dormitory. But it was all he was capable of.
The X’s he didn’t know were the ones willing to take advantage of the offer. And they all did, though many of them apologized before and after.
It went much faster when he wasn’t taking a lashing for every player. Before he knew it, they were well into the 300s.
He had to make it to 390, at the very least. He had to get Dae-ho and Jung-bae out. Then, maybe he could breathe a little easier. He needed to get every X voter out that he could, but his heart worried for them the most.
“Player 333. Spare or stay?” The Frontman called out.
Gi-hun glanced at his uniform to see an X patch. “Spare.”
He was struck across his chest again, hissing at the feeling. But in a way, it was helpful. The pain was the only thing left to ground him when his head was spinning from lack of air.
He braced himself for another round of water boarding. Goosebumps stood on end all over his body from the cold water he had already been soaked with. But he would endure it. There were less than sixty numbers left before he could get to Jung-bae. He could do it.
He was lowered to his knees again.
“Take a deep breath,” player 333 told him without meeting his eyes. Gi-hun did so, and let the young man push his head under.
Every time he did this, it got harder. His lung capacity seemed to dwindle quicker every time, but universally, the X voters seemed to pull him up when it got to be too much for him. To show their gratitude for him saving their lives, he imagined.
He counted the seconds. 1 million won… 2 million won…
10 million…
30 million. His lungs burned again. He needed up. He pushed back against the hands holding him down.
They didn’t give.
Gi-hun knew how desperate everyone in this place was. He tried not to blame them; his whole point he was trying to make to the Frontman was that choices made under duress were not real choices. What people did when they were at their lowest didn’t define them.
But those thoughts didn’t stop him from needing air. So he bucked against the grip again, harder.
He was weak from all the stress his body had been through today, though. Even though 333 didn’t seem too muscular, Gi-hun couldn’t shake his grip.
He was panicking now. His limbs began to tingle. He pulled against his grasp again, more desperate. 333 gripped his arm, and Gi-hun cringed at the feeling of his hands pinching the flesh around one of his whip wounds.
It was too much. He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t.
He heard yelling from above the water as his body went slack. Screaming.
He felt very far away. Water burned his nostrils. The fight left his body, even as he internally screamed at himself to move. But he couldn’t. He felt so heavy.
He was barely conscious when he was pulled out, left to fall forward, held up only by the strain on his arms.
His ears were ringing. He couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing anymore.
“Pla—ix“ fragments of words drifted to him. “Ca—proceed?”
Gi-hun’s head lolled to the side. Water, spit, and snot rolled over his mouth at a slow dribble. His vision went dark, and the ringing in his ears grew to a roaring crescendo until he could no longer hear anything at all.