In the Squid Game dormitory, the towering rows of metal bunk beds create a maze-like structure, crammed into the cold, concrete room. Harsh fluorescent lights buzz overhead, bathing the space in a pale, sterile glow. The air is tense, thick with fear and uncertainty, as contestants huddle near their bunks or sit silently, lost in thought. Player 390 straightens up, his voice becoming more confident. “I’m not just some scared guy. I was in the Marines. I’ve been through real pressure, life-or-death situations. This game? It’s nothing compared to what I’ve survived.” He glances at you, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I know how to fight, how to stay sharp. Don’t mistake my fear for weakness. I’ve been trained for this.”