The first team to survive consists of four women and one man. Seo-hyun finds herself swept up in the relief and adrenaline as they cross the finish line. She cheers alongside the others, her arm around Player 222.

Then she feels it—a hand on her back. She freezes, her body tense until she glances sideways and realizes it's Player 001. His touch is light, almost absentminded, as he jumps and cheers with the rest of them, his focus entirely on the winning team.

If she were even a little pettier, she'd nudge Player 390 and point out the obvious—that the previous teams, stacked with men and their misplaced bravado, failed miserably, while this team of four women and one man made it through—but instead, she chooses silence, savoring the happy moment.

Her gaze drifts to Player 222, who finally looks at peace, smiling faintly. She leans closer and murmurs just loud enough for her to hear, "Looks like brains and teamwork win."

Each team that succeeds in a mini-game sends ripples of excitement through the room. People who were once sitting silently now stand, cheer, yell, and jump with unrestrained joy. Victories are celebrated with hugs and triumphant shouts that fill the air with a rare sense of hope.

But for every win, there are losses. Cries echo from those who fall short, flinches ripple through the crowd at the sound of gunfire, and frowns settle heavily on faces as players realize the cost of failure.

Seo-hyun forces herself to focus on the wins, clutching onto the fleeting moments of triumph. She knows if she lets herself linger on the losses, the weight of it all might break her confidence.

By the time it's her team's turn, Seo-hyun has seen it all—she's watched some teams breeze through the games, crossing the finish line with minutes to spare, while others scrape by in the final seconds, their relief palpable. But she's also seen teams crumble. Some never make it past the first game, dying before they can even attempt the other games. Others falter at the final one, unable to kick the Jegi five times in a row successfully.

"Last teams, get ready." The robotic voice announces. Seo-hyun's heart pounds as the timer resets once more for her team and the other one left. This is it.

The quietly move to the starting line where their legs are tied together. Seo-hyun is standing between Player 390 and Player 001. She links her arm through Player 390's, his grip firm but impersonal, before hesitating for a moment. Steeling herself, she wraps her other arm around Player 001's bicep. Her fingers instinctively press against the firm muscle she can feel beneath his jacket, and she swallows hard, forcing herself to focus on the game that is about to begin.

The rest of the team shifts into position, adjusting their arms and testing their leg mobility. For a brief moment, Seo-hyun glances at each member, catching a flicker of determination in their eyes before she quickly looks forward again.

They bid good luck to the other team who will play at the same time as them, promising to see each other at the finish line.

"I believe in you guys," Player 001 tells them. He smiles at Gi-hun, "Plus, we have a previous winner with us."

And the Front Man.

The manager raises a pistol and fires it, and just like that, they're off.

Seo-hyun matches her steps with the team, their synchronized chant keeping them from messing up. The tied legs force them to move as one, and they lean slightly toward Gi-hun, creating space for Player 222 to maneuver as they reach the Ddakji post.

Player 222 doesn't hesitate. She picks up the blue Ddakji, eyes it for a moment, then slams it down with enough force to flip the red one on her first try.

"Pass," the robotic voice announces, emotionless. The circle guard standing at the post raises his arms in an 'O' shape, signaling their success.

They cheer quietly, shaking each other's arms in shared excitement. Seo-hyun feels a flicker of relief as Player 222 beams, but the celebration is brief. They steady themselves again, calming their breathing as they move toward the next game.

Player 390 steps up to the Flying Stone table with confidence. Grabbing the stone, he bends low, his expression focused. "When I played baseball, my pitches might've been slow, but I had flawless ball control," he says, aiming carefully.

He takes a moment to line up his shot, then throws. The stone flies through the air and hits the target dead-on, knocking the other stone down.

"Pass," the robotic voice declares once more, and the guard raises his arms in that same 'O' shape.

The team lets out another cheer, though it's shorter this time, their eyes already fixed on the next station. The weight of the clock ticks in the back of their minds, urging them forward.

They reach the Gong-gi table and quickly release each other's arms, crouching down when the small table is placed on the floor. Seo-hyun grabs the pieces, her hands steady despite the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

"Shut up," she snaps when Player 390 opens his mouth, cutting off whatever comment he was about to make. Without waiting for a reply, she tosses the pieces onto the table and starts playing. 

Her hands move in a blur, scooping and catching with perfect precision. One piece, two, three, four, then five—all fluid, no wasted movements. The clink of the plastic pieces is the only sound, and she doesn't fumble once.

The final toss sends all five pieces into the air, and she catches them effortlessly.

"Pass," the robotic voice announces, and the guard lifts his arms in that same 'O' after Seo-hyun shows the guard the five pieces in her hand.

The team erupts in a quick cheer, their collective relief spilling out in unison. Seo-hyun doesn't bask in the moment. She's already on her feet, brushing dust from her knees. "Let's move," she urges, her voice cutting through their scattered excitement.

Their shared energy refocuses, and they quickly stand back up. The Spinning Top station looms ahead, with three and a half minutes left on the timer.

Player 001 grabs the spinning top from the guard, his expression calm as he starts winding the rope tightly around it. Seo-hyun stands beside him, her hands restless but useless, left with nothing to do but silently pray he knows what he's doing.

"There's no rush," Player 390 says, his tone almost too cheerful, clasping his hands in front of him.

Player 001 finishes winding and releases the top. It doesn't spin. The top drops uselessly to the ground with a dull thud.

"It's fine," Seo-hyun takes a deep breath, trying to keep the nerves from showing in her voice. They still have time.

Without hesitation, they start moving forward to retrieve it. Player 001 snatches the top from the floor and starts winding the rope again as they shuffle backward.

He throws it again, but this time, when he pulls the rope to release it, the top flies backward by the Gong-gi station, not spinning. A sharp jolt of panic settles over the group. They would need to walk all the way there and then back here.

"I'm sorry..." Player 001 exclaims as they all stare in shock.

"Stop staring, let's go." Seo-hyun points out. "All right, let's go."

"You sure you did this a lot as a kid?" Player 390 asks while they walk backwards.

"We have enough time." Seo-hyun answers for Player 001. "Stay calm."

Player 001 picks the top from the floor and starts winding it as they begin to walk forward again. As they do, Seo-hyun remembers something.

On the first day she met the Front Man, they had been given shoes. He grabbed his with his left hand. He punched Player 230 and 124 with his left hand. He fixed his hair after that fight with his left hand. Is he... left-handed? He had thrown the top with his right hand, so surely she's mistaken.

"Hang on. Let me do this." He mutters in frustration as they walk, shaking off Seo-hyun's and Gi-hun's hands from him. The rope slips and unwinds, "What the hell is the problem?" Player 001 curses, rewinding it. They get back to the Spinning Top station and he rushes it, once more not getting it to spin.

a minute and a half on the clock.

Player 001 closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair at the fail, and Seo-hyun quickly bends down to get the top back. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" he yells, slapping his face. "You goddamn idiot! You're an idiot!"

Seo-hyun grabs his shoulder, turning him to face her. "It's okay," She tries to sooth, catching his eye as he heaves. "Just focus up, you got this. No one is blaming you, it's okay." then quieter, "I believe in you. Take a deep breath, okay?" Her thumb brushes back and forth over his jacket, trying to help him relax. 

"Try to remember the times you had fun playing this as a kid," Gi-hun adds, "Now, deep breaths."

He nods, grabbing the top from her hands. She squeezes his hands as he does, before he starts winding it again.

"It's okay," Seo-hyun breaths, staring at the clock. A minute. "You got this, take your time."

Player 001 successfully winds the top again, his movements precise. Seo-hyun's eyes narrow as she notices something subtle but telling—he throws it with his left hand this time. She watches in stunned silence as the top spins flawlessly on the first try.

"Pass," the robotic voice announces, and the guard lifts his arms in an 'O.'

Her chest tightens as realization dawns. He's left-handed. He was failing on purpose.

The others erupt into cheers, but Seo-hyun stays quiet, her mind racing as they shuffle toward the Jegi station. The joyful energy around her feels muted, distant, like she's watching it through a fogged-up window.

Seo-hyun wants to tell herself Player 001 wanted then to survive but he wanted to run the clock just enough to scare them, otherwise he wouldn't have switches hands. But a small part of Seo-hyun doesn't believes that. If Gi-hun messes up at Jegi, even once, it's over.

Her gaze flickers toward Player 001 as Gi-hun grabs the Jegi from the guard. He doesn't look worried—why would he? Immunity protects him, whether they succeed or fail.

Gi-hun kicks the Jegi—one, two, three times—his movements growing more tense with each hit. On the forth kick, the Jegi flies more forward then the first three, just out of reach from Gi-hun's foot. Then, without missing a beat, Player 001 extends their tied leg, allowing Gi-hun to get the last kick in.

"Pass," the robotic voice declares, and the guard raises his arms in 'O' shape for the last time.

With seconds to spare, they cross the finish line and all cry out in relief. Cheers erupt around her—But Seo-hyun doesn't join them. Instead, she drops to a crouch, her palms pressing firmly against her eyes as if trying to block out the world. Her chest heaves with the effort of catching her breath, the adrenaline finally crashing down on her all at once.

And then, gunfire. The other team didn't make it.

Her blank expression suddenly doesn't feel so out of place. Around her, they all look worn down—faces pale, eyes hollow—as the guards herd them back toward the main room, the dormitory.

Seo-hyun follows the others once they enter the dormitory, figuring she now has a team and should stay with them. Gi-hun leads them to the corner of the room near where his bed is, and they all settle onto the platform together in silence. It lasts all of ten seconds before Seo-hyun stands up.

"Player 001," She starts, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

The rest of the team looks between the two, the determined look on Seo-hyun's face and the confused one on Player 001. "Yes, of course." he agrees, standing back up.

Player 001 follows her away from their team to the corner of the room behind the bunks, far enough that the others can't overhear. She crosses her arms, her expression unreadable, though the tension in her shoulders betrays her simmering frustration.

"You were throwing the Spinning Top game on purpose," she says bluntly, her voice low. It's not a question, and the accusation hangs in the air between them. "You're left handed, and you used your right hand."

Player 001 raises an eyebrow, his expression calm, almost amused. "And if I was?"

Her jaw tightens, and she steps closer, lowering her voice further. "If Gi-hun had missed just one kick..." She lets the unfinished sentence linger, her meaning clear.

Player 001 tilts his head, studying her with an unreadable expression. "But he didn't," he replies simply, his tone infuriatingly composed. "And here we are, alive."

Seo-hyun clenches her fists, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why? Why would you do that? Are you bored?"

For a moment, he doesn't answer, his gaze holding hers with a quiet intensity. "Because fear motivates people," he says finally. "It sharpens instincts, keeps them alert. And it worked, didn't it? We survived. And, helping Gi-hun with the last kick of the Jegi was perfect."

Seo-hyun states at him in shock, though it shouldn't surprise her. To run a place like this you have to be cunning, egoistical, unforgiving. "You were playing with our lives," She points out, pointing an accusatory finger at the man. "With my life," she adds, quieter. "You don't get to decide that to me. You don't get to gamble with my life just because you want to."

Player 001 remains eerily calm, his lips curving into a faint smile. "I didn't gamble," he replies evenly. "I'm not a VIP nor am I one of the low-lives recruited to play. I calculated. There's a difference."

His words cut deep, and Seo-hyun feels a flicker of uncertainty in her chest. She wants to argue, to push back against his cold logic, but she's not sure how. Can she, even? Would she get a punishment once her job was completed? Would he make sure she wouldn't leave this island alive? She had never heard of a guard arguing with the Front Man, and that thought makes her back down. All she needs is to do her job until it's over and she likely won't need to speak or interact with him ever again.

"If you say so," Seo-hyun finally nods, her voice low and audibly defeated. "I apologize for questioning you, sir." She adds plainly, using the same tone she had used with Managers before.

She notices a flicker of something in Player 001's expression—confusion, perhaps. She's too exhausted to care about what he's possibly thinking right now. Instead, she turns to leave, wanting to join the rest of her team again.

Seo-hyun walks back to the group, her mind still swirling with the recent confrontation. As she approaches, she notices a new figure among them—Player 388. She recognizes him, the guy who joined their conversation from his bunk when Gi-hun was telling them he thought the second game will be Dalgona.

"Oh!" he gasps when she sits down on the stairs next to Player 222, and Seo-hyun raises a brow. Player 001 joins them too, sitting a bit away from her on the platform. "You! That was so cool when you stood up to Thanos, you know? Really badass."

Seo-hyun blinks, trying to wrap her mind around his cheery mood. "Thank you." she smiles, bowing her head respectfully. "It was nothing, really." Mostly since Player 001 did the heavy lifting by fighting Thanos, but Seo-hyun doesn't say that.

"This man is very brave! He was in the marines, like me," Player 390 boasts, urging Player 388 to lift his sleeve to show off their marine tattoos. "We need strong, brave men on our team!" He continues, his pride evident as he gestures to Player 388, who grins widely, clearly enjoying the attention.

Seo-hyun doesn't argue with him, for once. 

Her hand finds Player 222's collar, and she smooths out the folded fabric at the back of her neck. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?" Player 001 asks, leaning forward and tilting his head.

"Yes," she replies, bowing her head politely. "Thank you all for including me in your team."

"She smashed that Ddakji on her first try," Player 390 says, gesturing to Player 222 as he speaks to Player 388. "That was amazing!"

"She really did." Seo-hyun glances at Player 222 with a soft smile. "And while being pregnant. She's the strongest pregnant woman I've ever met." Player 222 looks down at her hands, cheeks tinged pink. "We're lucky to have her."

"And your Flying Stone game," Gi-hun prompts, nudging Player 390 with a grin. "He nailed it in one shot."

"It was impressive," Seo-hyun agrees with a polite nod toward Player 390. "I didn't realize we had a professional baseball player on our team."

Player 390 beams at the comment. "And you? You finished Gong-gi before I could even blink. And after saying you haven't played in twenty years!"

"Ah, you played Gong-gi?" Player 388 asks, his face lighting up as he looks at Seo-hyun. "I did too. I'm the only son for two generations. My mom wouldn't let me play outside, so I just played at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the marines?" Player 390 questions.

Player 388's smile falters, just a little. "That was my father's idea. He wanted me to be more of a man." he explains, tone a little more serious. "He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"Wow, sounds like a great man," Player 390 remarks. "Was he a marine too?"

"Yeah, well..." Player 388 trails off, standing abruptly. Seo-hyun expects him to leave, his discomfort clear, but instead, he clears his throat and looks around. "Listen, maybe we should share names. I still don't know yours, gentlemen. Or yours, ladies." His suggestion lingers for a moment before he continues. "I'll start. Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big,' and 'ho' means 'tiger.'"

"Wow. Big tiger. Cool name," Player 390 chuckles. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

"My name is Kim Jun-hee," Player 222 says softly, glancing between the group members. "I don't know what it means, though."

"'Excellent joy,'" Seo-hyun explains, her tone quieter . "It fits you well."

Jun-hee smiles faintly, her gaze warm with gratitude. "Jun-hee, when you get out of here, go see a doctor right away," Player 001 advises, his tone unusually gentle. "You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

Jun-hee nods silently, her hand brushing over her stomach.

"I'm Oh Young-il," Player 001 says next. Seo-hyun doesn't even blink. She doesn't buy it, not for a second. But she keeps her mouth shut, ready to use the name because even a fake one is better than calling him by the number on his jacket. "Young-il sounds like zero one, and that's my number."

"Oh, what are the odds," Seo-hyun comments, "How lucky."

"And what is your name, miss?" Young-il prompts, raising a brow at her.

"Kim Seo-hyun," she answers simply, holding his gaze for just a beat. Seo-hyun is not afraid of using her real name. She's not a coward like him. "Lucky and brilliant."

"That really suits you as well," Jun-hee pipes up, giving Seo-hyun a soft smile.

"And you, sir," Dae-ho says, pointing at Gi-hun with a grin, "our previous winner. What's your name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun replies easily, his eyes briefly meeting each of theirs.

"Seong literally means 'last name,'" Young-il quips, laughing at his own joke.

Seo-hyun stares at him, deadpan, along with the rest of the group.

look at them go!!! winning! sharing names! Seo-hyun starts to be nice to Jung-bae!

Jun-hee and Seo-hyun mean so much to me guys and it'll get even BETTER... 

Seo-hyun clocking In-ho like that in spinning top was lowkey v impressive of her. my smart perceptive sharp QUEEN