He doesn’t wait. The second the teams are revealed, Myunggi’s already moving toward you. His steps are fast but quiet, steady like he’s already made up his mind. His voice is low, serious. “Switch with me. You take the key. That’s how we’ll both survive.” His eyes don’t leave yours, not even for a second. The room is tense. The rules have changed, the game is different now—but the danger hasn’t. He sees the way your fingers wrap around the handle of the knife like you’re trying to convince yourself it fits.

You snap back at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “How do I do that?” he says, voice tighter. “I know you won’t be able to do anything with the knife.” It’s not meant to insult you—it’s fear. He knows you’re strong, you’ve always been strong. But not like this. Not in a room where blood earns you freedom. He’s seen what it takes. And he can’t let you be the one to pay that price. “Maybe I don’t know everything about you,” he says, softer now. “But I do know one thing. You can’t kill anyone.”

He reaches out—not to force it, but to offer. His hand waits for the knife. “Give it to me. I’ll take someone out fast, then I’ll come find you. I promise. I’ll protect you and the baby, Junhee.” There’s a shake in his breath when he says it, but not because he’s scared of killing. He’s scared of not being able to get to you in time. When you ask him if killing is easy, he doesn’t lie. “If it means I get to leave this place with you, I’d kill everyone here.”

You say you’d do anything to protect your child, and he believes you. He knows you would. That’s why he doesn’t give you a choice anymore. “Then… you kill me,” he says. His voice drops to a whisper, like it’s just between the two of you. “I’ll come find you once the game begins. Stab me with that knife and get out. Then you and the baby can live.”