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A cold and calculating man oversees the deadly competition as its secret mastermind: every move, every tactic, every techni...
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"We have to be smart about this." Young-il says. "Everyone takes what they're best at."
After discussing our strengths and what we think we're best at, I end up choosing ddakji, Player 390 chooses biseokchigi, and Player 388 chooses gong-gi.
„That leaves jegi and Spinning Top. Which are you good at?" Player 456 asks Young-il.
„I'll play whatever you pick for me, Gi-hun." Young-il says.
Gi-hun?
"You know my name?" Player 456, or should I say, Gi-hun, says.
Young-il's face flickered with a brief freeze, before he smoothed it back into a neutral expression.
"Oh, your friend was calling you by your name, so I thought I'd try it." He said, showing to Player 390. "Does it bother you?" He asks.
"No, it's fine." He says, nodding.
The whole thing felt strange, and I narrowed my eyes at him, even though he's not looking at me. Once again, I feel like he's hiding something... maybe more things. I decide to ignore it for now, but not forget about it completely.
"So, Gi-hun, which are you good at?" Young-il asks.
"I guess I'm better at jegi." He says.
"Hm, then I'll just do Spinning Top." Young-il says, and they both nod at each other.
Player 390 asks us to bring our hands together, and Young-il rolls his eyes, but puts his hand on top of the others too. I smile at this.
„On three, we go "Victory at all costs!" Player 390 says. „One, two, three!"
We all raise our hands at this, hoping for the best.
I look around the arena, trying to see if Jun-hee found a team too. When I finally catch her eye, she smiles at me, gesturing that everything is okay. I breathe out, relieved, and smile back at her.
We stand in the back, waiting for our turn as the other teams begin their games. The air was heavy with sounds of desperation—players shouting commands, panicked breaths, and occasional screams of failure.
"You think they'll make it through?" I ask Young-il, who's next to me, nodding toward one group.
"Doesn't matter," he replied, his voice low. "They're not our concern."
I smirk, liking the way he thinks like me.
"You don't seem worried about anything. I wonder... why is that?" I ask him.
He turns his head slightly and looks down at me, meeting my gaze. God, he's so much taller than me even as we're sitting down. And he looks so damn handsome.
I mentally slap myself for thinking like this. Y/n, he's just a man.
"There's no point in worrying, it won't change the outcome. And I don't see you worrying either...?" He says.
