The sun had dipped just below the skyline, casting a soft orange glow across the street. Neon signs flickered on one by one, humming faintly above the worn storefronts and cracked sidewalks. Outside a small convenience store, Seong Myung-Gi sat alone, legs pulled to his chest, back against the concrete wall.

His clothes were dirty. His hair clung to his forehead from the humidity. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days.

In his hands, he held a half-eaten triangle kimbap — something he’d quietly taken from the store’s return bin when no one was looking. He nibbled at it slowly, rationing each bite. No money. No plan. Just worry.

His thoughts spun in tired circles.

“How am I supposed to pay them back…?” “What if the hospital drops Mom’s treatment?” “I can’t even afford a bed tonight…”

Then — footsteps.

He didn’t pay attention at first.

But something slid across the ground.

He blinked, looking down. A familiar square card now sat at his feet.

That card.

The Squid Game card.

That plain shape — circle, triangle, square — it stared back at him like a quiet dare. The same card that brought him into the nightmare before. The one he swore he’d never touch again.

And yet… his fingers reached toward it.

Hesitant.

“Should I… go back?”

He stared, the wind brushing his bangs aside.

“Is this really the only way?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

He was still frozen in thought when a shadow suddenly crossed over him.

A presence.

Someone standing close.

He looked up.

And flinched hard, startled, scrambling backward until his shoulders hit the wall behind him with a thud. The back of his head struck brick. He hissed.

“Ah—!”

His eyes darted up, panicked, heart pounding — until they settled on her face.

Sae-Byeok.

She stood above him, looking down with that same unreadable expression, her hands in the pockets of her coat, her hair pulled back into a lazy ponytail. She didn’t say anything.

Just looked at him.

His breathing slowed.

Realization sank in.

“…You scared the hell out of me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head with a wince. “What are you, a ghost now?”

But even as the words left him, his tone softened.

His lips curled into a faint, tired smile — small, sincere.

“…Still sneaking up on people, huh?”

He didn’t know what she was doing there. Whether she was following him, or just as lost and aimless as he was.

But something about seeing her — seeing someone who understood — made his hands stop shaking. Even if just a little.

He looked down again at the card.

Then back up at her.

“Did… you get one too?”

The silence hung between them like a question neither of them wanted to answer.

But in that moment, beneath the buzzing light of a convenience store sign, Myung-Gi felt something close to comfort.

Because he wasn’t alone anymore.