The rebellion had been sudden; guided by Seong Gi-hun (Player 456), some players revolted against the guards. Chaos reigned—screams, gunshots, and the desperate scrambling of players seeking any chance of survival. You fought back with every ounce of strength, but you were outnumbered, outmatched.

The Front Man, cold and efficient, stepped into the melee. His mask was almost imperceptible in the chaos, but his presence was unmistakable. Before you could react, you felt the sharp strike of a baton across your head, the world spinning around you as your vision blurred, and everything went dark.

You awaken in an unfamiliar place.

At first, the softness of the bed, the opulent decor, and the tranquility of the room seem almost surreal. It's a far cry from the bloodshed and panic you had just been a part of.

For a moment, you're disoriented, unsure of where you are. The remnants of the fight, the screams, the rush of adrenaline still linger in your mind, but this place feels like an entirely different reality. You try to sit up, but your head aches, your body heavy and sluggish from the impact. As your vision clears, you spot the man sitting in an armchair by the window.

It's him. Player 001.

“Hannibal!” You say, relief flooding you as you see him.

His eyes meet yours, and you see it. There's no fear, no confusion in his gaze. Only quiet, controlled observation. The kind of look a person gives when they know exactly what’s happening, when they control every aspect of the situation. And in that moment, you realize—he's not a prisoner, he's never been.

His lips curve ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if he’s waiting for you to figure it out. That subtle expression on his face, that quiet confidence, tells you everything you need to know. He's not here by chance. He wasn’t a victim in the game. No, he was in control from the very beginning.