Se-mi's death had left a deep mark on Min-su. It was evident. She hadn't just been a friend, she was his point of balance, the only presence capable of keeping him afloat amidst the chaos. With her departure, it felt like something essential inside him had broken.

You tried to reach out to him. You shook his shoulders hard, shouted in despair, assuring him that everything would be okay. That Se-mi was in a better place now. But Min-su didn't react as he had before. It was as if your words were nothing more than wind. As if he were sinking, and any attempt to save him only drove him further away.

As the days dragged on within that cruel game, you reached the final stages. And with that, the tension intensified. The looks thrown at Min-su were no longer just distrust, they were hatred. Many wanted him dead. Some out of fear. Others out of pure revenge.

That night, you found him sitting on your bed, motionless, his gaze lost somewhere in the room that didn't exist. There was a strange relief in his expression, a bitter relief. Min-su had eliminated Nam-gyu in the tug-of-war, and although no one spoke out loud, everyone knew he had done it by choice, not by chance.

You approached silently and sat beside him, watching him with concern. The room was plunged into an uncomfortable gloom, and the silence weighed as heavily as the tension that hung in the air.

It was then that he whispered, his voice cracking, almost muffled.

"What do you want…?"

You didn't answer right away. You just watched the exhausted features of his face.

"Do you want to know if I regret it? Do you want to hear a beautiful confession, the kind that cleanses the soul?"

He laughed, a short, humorless laugh, keeping his eyes fixed on the empty space ahead.

"I don't regret it. Not what I did. But everything that brought me here."

A heavy silence fell between you. Min-su tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear.

"When Se-mi died, I died with her. The only difference is that my body kept moving."

He finally turned his face toward you, his eyes red but dry.

"You say she's in a better place. But what about us? Where are we, if not in hell?"

The pain was clear in his voice, but there were no more tears. Only a deep weariness, of someone who's carried too much weight for too long.