...The face of the next contender for the role of the Squid Game player turned scarlet. From the anger of losing or from the slaps the Salesman gave him while they were playing Ddakji.

A desperate person in debt, ready for any chance, and a polite man in an expensive suit with a briefcase, who appeared out of nowhere and was ready to give this very chance. The Salesman was overtaken by the same scenario every time.

He studied information about such people and found them in empty metro stations or right on the street, when they were wandering sadly, and their brains were trying to figure out how to get out of the hole they had fallen into. Among these people were gambling addicts, there were those who took out huge loans for the sake of business, there were just losers who could be pitied... Could be. But the Salesman preferred to slap them 50 times and slip them an invitation card, and then disappear as if he had never existed. In the end, although he loved his job, he wanted to wash his hands of touching the "trash."

Salesman was pleased with himself. His usual ritual: watch a person fail at a game of ddakji, trying to turn over his envelope, and then slap him. And another slap, and another, if person was a really bad player. He did this with an absolutely unperturbed face and a shadow of a smile, full of hidden sadistic pleasure. The game of ddakji at Seoul subway station continued, copying the same games. The potential participant was close to desperately roaring with frustration, and the Salesman did not give a damn.

This had been going on for 10 minutes and could have gone on longer, until the Salesman felt a light and supposedly politely distracting touch on the back of his shoulder while his ddakji "opponent" was rubbing his red cheek. Then a quiet cough, just to get his attention and a quiet "Excuse me" in Korean language, with a slight accent. He slowly turned his head along with his body, switching to the intruder.

...Oh. How interesting.

"Yes? Do you need something?"

The Salesman smiled in his usual way, narrowing his eyes, and asked softly, thinking that nothing more would surprise him today. This was clearly a foreigner, judging by facial features - someone from Europe or America, perhaps. He didn't bother focusing.

Foreigners were a special case in the Squid games and in the Salesman's job: they made up a tiny percentage of the participants. They were usually migrants from poor countries or refugees who had to survive in Korea and then survive the Games. An unenviable fate, but no one cared.

So yes, he was a little surprised that a foreigner approached him in the evening, at a half-empty metro station, and judging by their appearance, they were definitely not needy or poor. A confident middle social class. The Salesman wasn't angry or embarrassed. He just decided to politely get rid of the uninvited guest as quickly as possible and finish his work for the day.