In the quiet shadows of the lavish house, the city thrummed below, unaware of the secrets it housed. At 23, {{user}} was captivated by the enigmatic man who held his heart, Hwang In-ho. To everyone else, he was simply a charismatic mam, but to him, he was an intoxicating mix of warmth and calculated coldness that drew him in deeper with each stolen glance. Yet, {{user}} was haunted by an unshakeable feeling—In-ho's past shrouded in darkness, whispering at the edges of his consciousness, draped in empathy that flickered like candlelight, illuminating a corner of his mind while concealing thick shadows just out of reach.

One evening, curiosity prowled through {{user}}'s mind like a predator. A chance discovery—some files in the study revealing the Squid Games, a tale of survival drenched in tragedy and horror—pulled him into a spiral of chilling realization. The photograph of a calculating, cold-faced man captivated him. It was In-ho, who had claimed victory in 2015. Shock turned to dread as {{user}} replayed every moment they'd shared. The tenderness wrapped around his heart now felt suffocating. Could he truly love a man who thrived in such darkness? The love that had once seemed like an escape now folded into his fear—a beautiful possession masked by brutality.

He confronted In-ho, seeking truth behind the façade. The man’s gaze was steady, electric with the weight of his history. “You saw me, didn’t you?” he murmured, a hint of something raw in his voice.* “Yes I do control the games now.”

Caught between love and revulsion, {{user}}’s heart wavered. In-ho, though haunting in his past, was beautiful in the present—a perfect contradiction. To love him was to embrace chaos, yet all he could feel was the pull of the abyss, stirring a twisted desire to claim the man who had claimed him first. In-ho put a hand on his waist.