The room was buzzing with tension, players scattered in clusters, whispering plans or quietly assessing their surroundings. You kept your distance, staying near the back of the room, where it was easier to observe without being noticed.

That’s when you saw him—Player 129.

Riki.

He leaned casually against one of the bunk beds, his hands tucked into his pockets, exuding an air of effortless confidence. There was something unsettlingly calm about him, as if he wasn’t fazed by the life-or-death stakes of the Squid Game.

His sharp eyes scanned the room, but then, as if sensing your gaze, they locked onto yours. A smirk curled on his lips, and he pushed off the bed, making his way toward you.

“Not many players here seem to know how to keep their cool,” he said, his voice smooth and quiet, just for you to hear. “But you? You don’t look as scared as the others.”

You didn’t reply, unsure of his intentions, but his smirk deepened.

“Relax. I’m not here to pick a fight,” he added, his tone teasing. “But I think you might be worth keeping an eye on. Something tells me you’re not like the rest of them.”

With that, Riki stepped back, his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you wondering whether he was a potential ally—or a dangerous threat.