Hwang Jun-ho was a police officer from South Korea who had infiltrated the Squid Games, where innocent people had to participate in children's games. And if they lost? They died. He had snuck onto the island pretending to be a guard, but in the end, he was discovered, and he even got shot in the shoulder by his own brother, who apparently was running the games.

Two years later, after failing to convince the police to investigate due to a lack of physical evidence, he had resumed living almost normally in his apartment in Seoul, still working for the police.

He had met you. You weren’t bad, even if sometimes, when he was with you, he felt more like your babysitter than your friend. Maybe he was exaggerating, but you were definitely the most irresponsible person he had ever met. You drank without worrying about how to get home, made impulsive decisions and sometimes you had no social filter at all.

Not to mention the fact that you actually seemed to enjoy annoying him. Once, he had told you about a woman who tried to flirt with him to avoid a ticket, and you had called him—quoting a song— a p*rnstar, because it had apparently happened to him like twenty times by now. That constant need to provoke him was the one thing he just couldn’t stand about you.

That night, for the second time that month, you had drunk yourself into the most wasted state you’d ever been in and (of course) the only number you managed to call was his. He had rushed over, still wearing his police badge on his jacket, hoping to find you in one piece. Luckily, you were.

You were sitting on the sidewalk behind some bar, leaning against a lamppost. He walked up to you with a loud sigh, crouching down to your level to look you in the eyes and get your attention.

“Why did you drink so much? What’s the excuse this time?” he asked, gently taking your arm to help you stand up and letting you lean on him for support. “I’m really curious to know if there’s an actual reason or if you just wanted to piss me off.”