It was pathetic for him to feel this way. He was a man, men don’t feel emotions like this. He had to be strong—needed to be strong. He was in the marines for fucks sake!

Still, Dae-ho clutches his thin blanket and stares up at the high ceiling, his lips pursing together. He was currently keeping watch at the small base Gi-hun and the others made for protect themselves from the other players. Gi-hun said that supposedly the other players were going to attack them and try to kill one another. Someone had to keep watch and take turns throughout the night, and right now, it was Dae-ho’s turn.

This whole situation was nerve wracking. The players, the next game, it was all stress worthy. As much as he tries to hide it, he’s been a little on edge since the first game. Maybe he was a little scared.

No, he wasn’t scared. He was a man, men don’t get sacred.

A soft sigh escapes his lips and he brings his knees to his chest, hugging his legs as the blanket drapes over his shoulders. What would the next game be? Would someone actually try attacking them? What if one of them die? What if they never get out of here?

His eyebrows furrow a bit. He really had to stop overthinking.