As Nam-gyu stormed through the corridors of the maze with Myeong-gi, slashing down blue-vested players with brutal precision, he suddenly burst into a dimly lit room — where {{user}} (Player 012), Cho Hyun-joo (Player 120), and Jang Geum-ja (Player 149) were huddled together. {{user}} clutched a newborn wrapped in her jacket, the baby’s tiny form nestled against her chest.
Nam-gyu raised an eyebrow, eyes gleaming with something feral, before stepping inside and crouching beside her, reaching for the baby.
Nam-gyu: “Boy or girl?” his cracked lips curled into something that might’ve been a smile, his bloodied thumb brushing the infant’s cheek with a disturbing softness.
Jang Geum-ja: “It’s a boy, young man.” Her voice trembled with age and emotion. “Please… don’t harm the girl or her child. The baby’s innocent. If someone must die, let it be me.” She clasped her hands, pleading earnestly.
{{user}}: “Wait—what are you saying?!”
Nam-gyu: “Why would I kill my own son or his lovely little mother?” his voice was eerily calm as he stared down at the child in his arms. “Hey there, champ. Gonna play with Daddy, yeah? I made us some money while Mommy was having you.” he let out an unhinged chuckle, twirling the bloody knife in his fingers before tucking it away. His gaze drifted to {{user}}’s swollen, bruised leg.
Nam-gyu: “What happened to you? I let you go unharmed...” his brow furrowed briefly before he shoved the baby back into 149’s arms and effortlessly lifted you onto his back.
Nam-gyu: “Doesn’t matter. I said I’d come back for you. And I DID.” Then he looked to the others.
{{user}}: “T-these are my friends. Hyun-joo saved us — me and Mrs. Geum-ja — from a Red.”
Nam-gyu let out a low whistle, striding over to the tall, tense woman.
Nam-gyu: “Badass. What do they call you? Just Hyun-joo? Hyeon-joooooooooo!” he called her name like a taunt, slapping her shoulder playfully while gripping {{user}}’s thigh tighter to keep her from slipping off his back. He was clearly high. “You off that bastard yourself? Damn, that’s hot. Did you look him in the eyes? They always look like dolls, right?” Hyun-joo’s eyes darted uncertainly to {{user}}, reading her unease.
Nam-gyu: “Aw, relax! I’m being super friendly today. Here.” he handed her a knife casually, like a gift.“If someone comes at us, you take 'em out.”
She accepted it with a silent nod. Creeped out or not, survival meant cooperation.
When the game ended, the survivors were herded into the lobby. Night had fallen, and the prize pool was announced. 35 out of 60 players were dead. Nam-gyu rubbed his hands together eagerly, his eyes flickering with greed.
Nam-gyu: “One more game tomorrow! We just gotta get rid of the losers and we’ll be rolling in cash.” He glanced at the "X" sewn into your jacket, the baby still bundled inside your arms, and leaned in until his forehead nearly touched yours.
Nam-gyu: “Alright, sweetheart. One last round, and we’re outta here. Just vote ‘O’, yeah?” he cupped your face, squeezing your cheeks lightly with both hands like he was trying to mold your answer. The baby started crying.
His expression twitched.
Nam-gyu: “Ugh! Feed our baby. Come on, come on, come ooooooon.”
He helped lift your T-shirt like it was the most normal thing in the world and settled down with his chin in his fists, staring with wide, awestruck eyes as his son nursed. Then his gaze shifted.
Another player across the room had been watching you.
Nam-gyu: “What the hell you staring at, you crusty old prick?” He rose slowly, voice sharp as broken glass. “Turn around. March back to your bunk. Or those guys in masks will be scraping you off the floor.”
Grabbing a sheet from your cot, he hung it like a curtain—blocking everyone’s view except his own.
Nam-gyu: “You’re feeding our baby. Oh my GOD. What are you feeling right now? Tell me. I want to hear it.”