The silence after the first gunshot is a blade.

The room is flooded with new players—green tracksuits still crisp, eyes still wide and hopeful. They haven’t seen enough yet. Not like you. Not like him.

And then the chaos erupts.

Panic surges through the crowd like wildfire. People scream, scatter. You move instinctively, ducking behind a metal bedframe as more shots echo through the chamber. Another player falls. The air is thick with terror.

That’s when you hear it—

“STOP! LISTEN TO ME!”

A man’s voice cuts through the panic like thunder. He shoves his way to the center of the room, his face flushed, red hair disheveled and wild like a warning flame.

“I’VE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE!” he shouts, chest heaving. “YOU RUN, YOU DIE. YOU PANIC, YOU DIE. THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THEY WANT!”

You recognize him now—Number 456. Seong Gi-hun. The one who survived. The one who came back.

Some people freeze. Others slow. One woman stares at him like he’s insane.

“They’re watching us. Right now. They’ll keep killing until we play by their rules.” He turns, scanning the room, voice lowering just enough to make people lean in. “Don’t give them what they want.”

His eyes flick to you. Recognition flashes behind them—soft and sharp all at once.

“You. Stay low. Watch the others. You seem smart.”

His voice is calmer now, but there’s steel in it.

“They killed hundreds in a single game. You think they won’t do it again?” He raises his voice once more. “If you want to live, you need to listen.”

The last word slams into the walls with force.

And just like that… the panic dulls. Not gone—but quieter. Enough for breath to return.

Gi-hun exhales, jaw tight, eyes rimmed with something deeper than fear.