Chapter Text
In the aftermath of the ill-fated rebellion, the Front Man stands silently in his observation room, eyes roving over the remaining players in the dormitory via the CCTV cameras that are still working. Gi-hun is unconscious behind him in the observation room, handcuffs on his wrists and ankles, with pink triangle guards holding their guns to his head. He’s still alive for now, albeit unconscious, but how long that’ll last is to be determined.
The Front Man’s attention is temporarily diverted to focusing on the survivors in the dormitory that are visible via all the CCTV cameras. All the rebels - barring Gi-hun, Dae-ho and Hyun-ju - are dead. Dae-ho and Hyun-ju made it back to the dormitory before the final warning on the speakers so they are alive - also for now - but the Front Man isn’t sure whether or not he wants to spare them. Perhaps the most fitting punishment would be to make them continue the games. After all, the bathroom fight and the dormitory fight were overlooked and the pink guards themselves mean nothing to the Front Man. Is it better to show a little mercy and give the players hope or crush their hopes entirely?
As the Front Man dispassionately observes a trembling and twitching Dae-ho in the barracks - Dae-ho looks like a shell of his former self - he finds himself searching for a different figure. That of a small pregnant girl.
Jun-hee.
While the Front Man had entered the games with the intention of destroying Gi-hun’s hope and determination, Gi-hun wasn’t the only person in the games who had ended up making him feel…something other than anger, hatred and emptiness.
Jun-hee’s stubbornness, fight, drive and of course, her pregnancy, had been all too familiar to the Front Man.
No, not to the Front Man.
To In-ho.
She reminded him all too much of his dead wife and the urge to look out for Jun-hee had been…there.
In the immediate aftermath of the rebellion, the remaining players had been lined up in front of the pink guards, hands above their heads, patted down to remove all weapons and shoved roughly aside. Dae-ho and Hyun-ju had been beaten up, guards smashing their guns into their faces and kicking them in their stomachs to show that they knew of their involvement in the rebellion. Blood covered their tracksuits and both looked more physically beaten up than anyone else in the entire dormitory, which was saying something, considering the fact that the night fight had resulted in all those involved being injured and covered in blood to some degree. Very few were not covered in blood, Jun-hee being one of them. It would be a miracle if either Dae-ho or Hyun-ju could walk properly in the morning, when the time came for the fourth game. Dae-ho could currently only see out of one eye - his other was swollen to the point of unrecognizability - and Hyun-ju was cradling her left arm to her chest. It was either very badly sprained or dislocated. Neither boded well for the upcoming games.
Once the guards had left, the remaining players had dispersed, sheer terror in their eyes. Geum-ja had knelt down to help both Hyun-ju and Dae-ho, her son, Yong-sik, trying to help Hyun-ju to her feet, although the task was clearly impossible. Much to the Front Man’s surprise, however, he had seen - via the CCTV cameras - Jun-hee grab the hand of another player, that of Player 333. He had looked slightly surprised at her action, but there was relief on his face as well. Without a word, he had pulled her into his arms, turning so that he was in front of her and therefore would be the first target for the guards if they entered the room again, his gesture comforting, protective and…familiar.
Now, the Front Man searches for Jun-hee on the cameras and as he does so, he spots her with the same boy - he has to call him a boy, they look so young - standing behind several of the bunks in a more secluded area of the dormitory. They’re still wrapped in each other’s arms and while the Front Man understands that Jun-hee would need new allies - Dae-ho is incapacitated, he himself is gone, Gi-hun is a prisoner and Jung-bae is dead - they appear too familiar with each other.
The Front Man has seen Player 333 before. He defended him when that purple-haired bully and his minion were beating him up in the dormitory and had prevented a bigger fight in the bathroom that first time. The boy rejected the offer to join their team, but the Front Man has seen him looking at Jun-hee before. That one time in Mingle, when they were supposed to group up in duos, the Front Man remembers the boy grabbing Jun-hee’s hand and pulling her with him without hesitation, the second the announcer had said, “two”.
Could it be…?
The Front Man turns to the Black Square Guard.
“Pull up the background information on Player 333,” he instructs.
The Black Square Guard obeys without hesitation, pressing keys into his computer. The Front Man is not someone to be disobeyed.
“Player 333,” the Black Square Guard intones. “Lee Myung-gi. A former YouTuber and cryptocurrency trader known as ‘MG Coin’. He was formerly involved with Player 222.”
And the Front Man knows. Player 333 is the father of Jun-hee’s baby. No one needs to tell him this for him to know. The familiarity of their body language with one another is enough for him to tell. They are talking now and the Front Man focuses on their moving mouths, reading their lips to decipher what they are saying even though the audio on the CCTV is not on.
“It’s going to be okay,” Myung-gi whispers, his arms still around Jun-hee, one in her hair, one on her back. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to get out of here and have our baby. Our baby is the luckiest little guy on the planet because he or she has you for a mother. You’re going to be a great mother, I just know it.”
The Front Man can’t decipher what Jun-hee says in response because her face is buried in Myung-gi’s chest, despite the blood staining his tracksuit. Myung-gi smiles slightly in response to whatever she says, rubbing her back gently with one hand.
“Okay,” he says softly, his lips close to her ear, making it slightly harder for the Front Man to decipher what he’s saying. “You aren’t going to lose me. I promise. I left you once and that was the stupidest decision I have ever made, even more so than telling everyone to invest in Dalmation. I know I don’t have the best track record, but I’m here for you now. No matter what. I promise.”
His words are the confirmation that the Front Man needs. He doesn’t need to see or hear what Jun-hee says in response. The coward abandoned his ex-girlfriend and their child.
The boy needs to die.
Jun-hee doesn’t know what caused her to reach for Myung-gi. Actually, no, she does know. He’s a source of comfort, someone familiar, someone she can trust. She didn’t trust him initially in the games and part of her still doesn’t, but at the same time…she does trust him. He saved her life in Mingle and he actually listened to her earlier when she asked him not to partake in the rebellion. Her heart is so fickle…part of her still trusts him even though her brain is screaming at him not to. All she knows is…she can’t bear to lose him too. She might not want to be with him and she might not trust him fully, but she can’t imagine a world that he does not live in, his very presence mocking her with what ifs and could-have-beens.
They sit down on a bunk, still wrapped around each other. Jun-hee rests her head on his shoulder, aching for something different, wishing that circumstances had been different. Wishing that in some other world, they were sitting on a porch outside their house, celebrating their pregnancy and the family that they were going to build together. Myung-gi rubs her shoulder with one hand, his touch all too familiar and comforting.
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks, his voice soft. He doesn’t have to specify what he means by that.
Jun-hee shakes her head. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” she says softly.
Myung-gi smiles. “Either way, it’s going to be perfect. Just like its mum.”
Jun-hee elbows him, scepticism returning to her face. “‘Perfect’?” she repeats. “Like me? Seriously, Myung-gi? If I were perfect, you wouldn’t have left me. You wouldn’t have ignored me for six months. If I were perfect, I would have done this right. Gotten pregnant with a loving and loyal husband, not out of wedlock with a crypto scammer!”
Myung-gi’s expression shifts, taking on a slightly teasing look. “Are you saying you want to get married?”
It’s obvious that he’s teasing and Jun-hee can’t help but appreciate his attempt at humour even though she’s angry at him for attempting to make light of the situation. He knows what he’s done and as much as he wants to start over, there’s no turning the clock back. There’s no erasing the past. What’s done is done. He abandoned her once and who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again? She can’t trust him. But even as she thinks that, she remembers him grabbing her wrist without hesitation and pulling her to a room in Mingle. He saved her. He chose her. She still doesn’t know if she can trust him though. He wasn’t putting his life above hers and their baby, he was making the choice that would save them both. Briefly, she wonders about the round before that in Mingle. He saved her and the rest of their team, but did he have a team before that? Did he abandon that team to save her and their child? She isn’t sure and she isn’t sure if she wants to know. Did he kill for her? Would he die for her?
Jun-hee doesn’t want him to get into a situation where it’s her or him. She doesn’t want him to have to make that choice because even if he picks her life above his own, she doesn’t want him to die. She doesn’t want to lose him. Not again. Not for real this time. As much as it pains her to admit it and even though she said that he was dead to her, part of her will always love him.
Jun-hee would be lying if she didn’t admit to herself that part of the reason she had wanted to keep her baby is because it would be a reminder of him. She had thought he was dead for six months, that he had been killed by people whom he had inadvertently scammed, and the baby was a reminder of him. The last piece of him on the earth. And even now that she’d found that he had abandoned her for six months and ignored her calls…she still loves their baby. She doesn’t resent the baby for who its father was. If anything…she loves their baby all the more for it. There is no one else Jun-hee could imagine having a child with. As much as she hates Myung-gi for what he’s done, he was and still is her first love. And that makes him important to her, no matter how much she resents him for his stupidity and selfishness.
And as much as she thinks he’s stupid and selfish and only wants her for her money, part of her knows that he still cares about her. Or maybe that’s the stupid part of her brain talking. She’s not sure and she doesn’t know, but what she does know is that both of them need to be on the same page, at least for now. In this life or death situation, there are only so many people they can trust and he is obviously one of the few. As much as she was hesitant to trust him at first, she now believes that he will protect her and their child; after the Mingle game, after his attempt to get them to pair up for the Six-Legged-Pentathlon, after he listened to her during the beginning of the rebellion that fatal night.
“Dick,” she mutters under her breath, but there is no venom or vehemence in her voice and both of them know it. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Myung-gi smiles slightly, but doesn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb the tenuous peace that has settled between them. And in that moment, Jun-hee realizes that he meant what he said when he wanted them to have a fresh start. Maybe he did want her for her money, but at the same time…she realizes that he also wants her and their baby. For a moment there, when the numbers of the eliminated players had been announced, following the bathroom fight, she had thought that she was going to lose him. And as much as she hates him and she told him that he was dead to her…that’s not true. She still cares about him and part of her always will. They will always be connected.
Seon-nyeo is sitting on the ‘O’ side of the dormitory, on the top bunk, her eyes roving the scene. Her gaze locks on to Jun-hee and Myung-gi sitting side-by-side on one of the bunks, hidden from the rest of the people in the dormitory, but clear to her from her vantage angle. He has his arm around her shoulders once more, her left around his waist and her right on her swollen belly. As she watches, Jun-hee takes Myung-gi’s free hand and lightly presses it to her stomach. The delight on his face is unmistakable; it is clear that he can feel some movement there. As Seon-nyeo watches, Jun-hee smiles slightly and the gratitude on Myung-gi’s face is unmistakable. Their eyes lock and some kind of understanding passes between them.
Then Seon-nyeo’s gaze moves from the couple sitting in the bunks to one of the CCTV cameras up ahead, a smile curving her lips as she gazes directly into the camera..
“I should have known…,” she muses, her gaze piercing. “But now I see…and you do too.”
The Front Man has the irrational urge to kill Player 333 right now. He wants to slit that boy’s throat a thousand times for abandoning Jun-hee. It's obvious he abandoned her, otherwise they would have been allies from the very beginning. Heck, if he hadn't abandoned her, Jun-hee wouldn't be participating in the Squid Game to begin with. He wouldn't have let her. Or even if she had been, not knowing that the losers would die, they would have been allies from the start and Jun-hee wouldn't have approached him, Gi-hun and the others to team up during the Six-Legged-Pentathlon. Even at In-ho's lowest moment, he never abandoned his wife. He went into the Squid Game for her! And Myung-gi entered the Squid Game for himself, not for Jun-hee.
But the boy will probably die in the next game. Painfully too, if the Front Man has any say in it. And obviously he has a say in it.
The girl might die as well. The Front Man knows all too well how deadly the next game is going to be.
His gaze goes from Jun-hee and Myung-gi in the bunks to Gi-hun who is lying unconscious on the floor, still handcuffed and held at gunpoint. As much as Jun-hee resembles his dead wife, Gi-hun represents the hope that he once had in humanity. And the Front Man wants to erase that hope once and for all. Gi-hun being forced to watch his friends die before his eyes would definitely squash whatever little hope Gi-hun has left.
And…the Front Man wants to erase the girl as well. For opening up that one part of him that still cares, that remembers his dead wife, that wants Jun-hee to live because his wife didn’t. And that makes her dangerous.
Perhaps if she dies, he can turn the boy into the next Front Man. Not Gi-hun, Player 333. Myung-gi. There are so many layers to this, so many calculations and complications. It would be more prudent to let the boy live for now. As much as he hates him for abandoning his pregnant girlfriend. After all…the Front Man turns to look at one of the screens beside him and clicks to find old archive footage of the bathroom fight. There it is; confirmation. Myung-gi threw the first punch after Player 230 insulted Jun-hee. He defended Jun-hee. He killed Player 230. He’s a killer. But he’s still weak. He abandoned his ex-girlfriend and that is something that In-ho never ever did. Even if Myung-gi has changed…In-ho still thinks he deserves to die for abandoning Jun-hee. Although…by that logic, Gi-hun should be dead as well. His daughter is in the United States with her mother, stepfather and half-brother and Gi-hun hasn’t seen her in years. So as much as the Front Man hates Myung-gi for what he did…Gi-hun is no better.
The Front Man casts one more look at the duo in the dormitory. In that brief moment, he sees Myung-gi lightly touching Jun-hee’s stomach, her hand holding his to her swollen belly to let him feel their baby kick. The elation and happiness on his face is unmistakable, even at this distance, and In-ho wishes, briefly, that he might have been able to feel his child move through his wife’s belly. Even this tiny thing that Myung-gi now has, with both of them on the potential brink of death, In-ho wishes that he had.
In-ho wants to look away. He really does. But his gaze lingers for a second longer and he watches as Jun-hee smiles as well, recognizing the genuine unfakeable happiness on Myung-gi’s face. He cares. She knows he cares. Anyone with eyes can see that he cares.
With the odd lighting and strange camera angle, Jun-hee really does look like his dead wife. She turns her head as she wraps her arms around Myung-gi’s neck, holding him briefly in a tight hug, and for a second, In-ho sees the physical resemblance as well. And then he blinks as she pulls away and the mirage is gone. She’s just another pregnant girl, sitting with her deadbeat ex.
And he is the Front Man. In-ho is no more.