The air was tense, thick with unspoken emotions as Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing at Jun-ho's nonchalant demeanor. He stood by the counter, fastening the last button of his shirt, his expression unreadable but determined.

"You can't be serious, Jun," Y/n said, her voice edged with frustration. "You're going to a Halloween party where Gi-hun and Woo-seok are planning to go undercover? Do you even know how dangerous that sounds?"

Jun-ho glanced at her briefly before focusing on adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves.

"It's not as bad as you're making it out to be, Y/n," he replied, his tone calm but firm.

"Not as bad?" she repeated, incredulous. "You're willingly walking into a situation where anything could go wrong, and for what? To prove something to yourself?"

He stopped what he was doing, turning to face her fully.

"I have to go," he said evenly, though the weight behind his words made it clear there was more to it. "This isn't about proving anything—it's about In-ho."

The mention of Jun-ho's brother hit like a blow, softening her stance momentarily but only fueling her worry.

"And what happens if you don't come back, Jun?" she asked, her voice quieter but no less intense.

"What am I supposed to do then? Pretend I'm okay while you throw yourself into danger for someone who—" She stopped, biting her lip to hold back words she didn't want to say.

Jun-ho's jaw tightened.

"Don't," he warned, his voice low. "Don't make this about anything other than what it is. You know I can't just stand by while there's a chance I can figure out what happened to him."

Y/n's chest heaved, her frustration bubbling to the surface again. "Then take me with you. Let me help."

"Absolutely not," Jun-ho said immediately, his voice sharp. "This isn't something you need to be involved in."

"You're unbelievable," she shot back, her eyes flashing. "You think I'm just supposed to sit around and wait for you to come back, hoping you're still in one piece? Do you even care how I feel about this?"

"Of course I care!" he snapped, the rare outburst shocking them both into a brief silence.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily.

"But that's exactly why I need you to stay out of it. I can't do this if I'm worried about you getting hurt."

Y/n shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"You don't get to make that decision for me, Jun-ho. I'm not some helpless bystander in your life."

He stepped closer, his hands reaching for hers, but she pulled away. "

Y/n," he said softly, his voice pleading. "I need you to trust me on this."

"I don't trust you," she said bitterly, her voice breaking. "Not when you keep shutting me out."

Jun-ho flinched at her words, but his resolve didn't waver. "Then hate me if you have to," he said quietly. "But I'm still going."

The car ride to Chan-yeol's was silent, the tension between them palpable. Y/n sat with her arms crossed, staring out the window, her anger simmering beneath the surface. When they pulled up to the house, Jun-ho put the car in park and turned to her.

"Stay here," he said firmly. "Don't leave under any circumstances, Y/n."

She turned to him, her expression cold. "I'm not making any promises," she said, her voice clipped.

Jun-ho sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please, Y/n. Just—stay safe."

Without another word, she got out of the car, slamming the door harder than necessary. But instead of heading inside Chan-yeol's house, she stood on the sidewalk, watching Jun-ho drive away.

When she arrived at her father's house, the weight of the argument settled over her. She felt a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by her anger and frustration. She couldn't understand why Jun-ho insisted on carrying the burden alone, pushing her away when all she wanted was to stand by his side.

Her father noticed her storming into the house, her face a storm cloud of emotions.

"Y/n," he said cautiously, setting down the book he'd been reading. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she said tersely, kicking off her shoes and heading straight to her room.

Once inside, she sank onto the bed, her anger giving way to tears.

She hated feeling helpless, hated that Jun-ho was so willing to put himself in danger without considering how it affected her. As much as she wanted to believe he was doing the right thing, she couldn't shake the fear that this time, he might not come back.

______________

The club throbbed with energy, a symphony of flashing strobe lights and pounding bass that reverberated through the cavernous underground space.

The crowd, a chaotic sea of costumes, danced and swayed, their laughter and shouts blending into the music's relentless beat. The atmosphere was a cocktail of hedonistic revelry and a faint undercurrent of menace, heightened by the shadows that clung to the corners of the room.

"Whoa, look at all these people. Why is it so crowded tonight?" Woo-seok asked, craning his neck to survey the packed club as he followed closely behind Gi-hun.

Gi-hun's brow furrowed, his unease palpable.

"Hold on. Is that today? That's Hall... It's like an American thing. Hallo..."

"October 31. Halloween," Gi-hun supplied quietly, his tone grim.

"Yeah, Halloween," Woo-seok echoed, his expression darkening. "What are they planning here?"

"They're up to something. I can feel it," Gi-hun muttered, his voice barely audible over the din. "The guy they call the Front Man..." He trailed off, his eyes scanning the road as if he could spot the elusive figure amidst the chaos.

"You said he always wore a gray hood and a black mask?"

"Yeah," Gi-hun confirmed, his voice tight. "He chose today, so he'd blend in with everybody."

"These guys are pretty good, huh? Shit," Woo-seok admitted, shaking his head.

"All right, let's go," Gi-hun said, his resolve hardening.

"Oh, okay. Whoa! Wait, wait, wait!" Woo-seok tugged at Gi-hun's sleeve, gesturing to a roadside vendor selling masks. "We gotta cover our faces too, right?"

Gi-hun shrugged but nodded reluctantly.

"Oh, uh, here. How much for this one?" Woo-seok asked hurriedly, grabbing a plain mask and slapping down a few bills before they made their way inside.

Descending into the basement, the noise became deafening, the sound of music interspersed with the indistinct chatter of hundreds of voices. The air was thick, tinged with sweat, alcohol, and something acrid that burned the back of their throats.

Woo-seok tapped his earpiece, raising his voice to be heard.

"We just made it in! It's underground. Can you hear me okay?"

"Yeah, I hear you," Jun-ho replied over the line, his tone steady.

"And the tracker?" Woo-seok asked, his voice slightly shaky.

"Signal's strong. What's it like in there?"

"It's chaos in here. Total chaos," Woo-seok said, swallowing nervously. "Everyone's got a mask on. I can't tell who's who."

"Listen, I'll let you know if anything happens," Gi-hun added.

"Okay," Jun-ho replied tersely, his focus divided.

From his car parked a block away, Jun-ho's sharp eyes caught a flash of pink amidst the costumed crowd entering the club. His stomach knotted, his thoughts flickering briefly to Y/n—her voice still echoing in his ears from their argument.

But there was no room for hesitation.

"The masks. That's them. They're here. They're about to head into the club now," Jun-ho reported.

"Masks? I just told you, everyone in this place is wearing a mask!" Woo-seok's voice crackled back.

"These aren't just any masks," Jun-ho snapped. "They're in pink jumpsuits, just like on the island."

"Seriously?"

Jun-ho stepped out of his car, his movements swift and deliberate as he headed toward the club entrance.The line stretched long, costumed revelers jostling and laughing, but Jun-ho strode forward, his jaw set.

"Whoa! Hey, hold on there, bud. Wait your turn with everyone else," the bouncer barked, stepping in his path.

"Out of the way. Police," Jun-ho said, his voice low and commanding as he tried to push past.

The bouncer laughed, shoving him back. "See? You're not the only cop here," he said, gesturing to people in police uniforms. "Hey, it's Halloween, dude. You could've put on a uniform at least."

Jun-ho didn't hesitate, pulling out his gun and leveling a sharp gaze at the bouncer.

"Does this look like a toy?" he asked, his voice cutting through the noise like steel.

The bouncer took a step back, his hands raised defensively. "Hey, hey. Whoa!" he stammered, moving aside quickly.

Jun-ho pushed forward, disappearing into the club's pulsing depths.

Inside, Woo-seok's frantic voice came over the line. "I don't see anyone in pink suits!"

"Keep looking. They're here," Jun-ho insisted, weaving through the crowd.

"Oh!" Woo-seok exclaimed. "There, I see one. Looks like he's taking Mr. Seong somewhere. I'm gonna go after them."

"There's more than one," Jun-ho said sharply, his eyes scanning the crowd.

"What was that?" Woo-seok shouted.

"I said I saw two of them!" Jun-ho yelled, frustration mounting.

Before he could say more, Woo-seok's line crackled with a sudden silence.

"Woo-seok, where are you?" Jun-ho asked urgently. "Woo-seok, come in! Woo-seok! Woo-seok, get up!"

Jun-ho's voice carried an edge of desperation as he quickened his pace, his eyes darting through the chaos, searching for the man amidst the sea of masks and shadowy figures.

______________

Y/n's boots clicked against the wooden floor, a restless rhythm to match the chaos in her mind. She paced back and forth in the dimly lit house, her shadow flickering against the walls as the single lamp overhead swayed with each draft of cold October air.

Her hands clenched and unclenched, nails biting into her palms as she tried to steady her breathing. Jun-ho. His name echoed in her thoughts, a reminder of what was at stake tonight.

The weight of his danger pressed heavy on her chest, and the fear that she might lose him sharpened her resolve.

Chan-yeol, sprawled out on the couch, groaned groggily and opened one eye. "Y/n, just sit down, would you? You're wearing a hole in the floor."

"I can't," she snapped, her voice taut with suppressed anxiety. "Not when he's out there with them."

He sighed, giving up after a moment, and retreated to his room, mumbling something about her being impossible.

As the door clicked shut, Y/n grabbed her jacket and keys. The house felt suddenly too small, too suffocating. She needed to act.

"They've moved out of the building. Everyone, get ready!" The voice crackled over her earpiece as she slid into Chan-yeol's car, the engine roaring to life.

Her knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as she sped through the streets, weaving through late-night traffic like a predator on the hunt.

Her phone pinged—Jun-ho's tracker.

She synced it to her dashboard, her lips pressing into a grim line. "Hold on, Jun-ho," she murmured, her tone laced with quiet ferocity.

"They just got into a white limousine. I want everyone tailing it," another voice came through her earpiece.

"We're still on its tail," Kim's voice buzzed in her ear. "But something's wrong. This feels off."

"What do you mean?" Jun-ho's voice was sharp, concerned.

"They keep circling Yeouido. It's like... they're toying with us," Kim replied.

Y/n's jaw tightened. She wasn't near the Yeouido circle yet but could see the pattern from her position. The limo's erratic movements weren't random; they were calculated. A trap.

"Don't engage yet," Jun-ho instructed. "Wait until we're somewhere less public."

Gunshots erupted over the line, and Y/n's grip on the wheel tightened. She spotted the flash of a sniper's scope on a nearby rooftop.

"Sniper! Get down!" she barked into the earpiece.

"Y/n?" Jun-ho's voice cut through, equal parts shock and relief.

"Cars One and Two are pinned down," Kim's voice crackled through the earpiece, tension seeping into every word. Gunfire could be heard faintly in the background, punctuating his report. "We can't proceed."

Y/n's grip on the wheel tightened, her knuckles pale against the leather. The veins in her temple pulsed visibly as she took a sharp breath. Her mind raced—every second mattered.

"I'll follow the limo," she said quietly, her voice steady but loaded with resolve.

"I'll follow you," Jun-ho interjected quickly, but his voice barely reached her ears before a sharp beeping noise interrupted the line.

Instinctively, he ducked just as a deafening explosion shattered the stillness, sending a spray of debris into the air.

"Damn it, I'm hit too!" Jun-ho's voice returned, strained and urgent.

Y/n's heart skipped, but relief washed over her when she spotted his number flashing on her phone. The call meant he was alive, for now. But this wasn't the time to linger on relief.

She eased the car into a slow pursuit behind the limo, careful not to follow too closely and draw attention. If they spotted her, she knew, she'd be next.

"I'm losing them," Jun-ho said, frustration evident.

She didn't respond right away, her focus locked on the limo. Finally, she picked up his call, slipping out her earpiece to avoid any interruptions.

"Turn around. Don't do this, please," Jun-ho's voice was thick with desperation, pleading as if his words alone could anchor her to safety. "Don't take him on alone! You don't have to prove anything—just come back!"

Y/n exhaled sharply, her lips curving into a bitter smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Don't miss me too much," she said, her tone tinged with a teasing edge, though her heart felt heavier than ever. "I'm not doing this for you, Jun-ho. I'm doing it for our future—for peace."

The line went quiet for a beat, but Jun-ho's voice returned, now edged with a frantic tremor.

"Y/n, please! If you get yourself killed, what kind of peace is that? Stop the car. Think about this!"

But Y/n had already made up her mind.

"I have thought about it," she replied, her voice soft but unyielding. "Now, stop trying to talk me out of it. I know what I'm doing."

Jun-ho was quiet. He knew if he talked too much she'd end the class and he didn't want to risk not knowing what happened to her.

"Y/n I swear if you–" began Jun-ho.

Ahead, the limo made a sudden, sharp turn, cutting through a side street like a predator evading its prey.

Y/n reacted instinctively, yanking the wheel and accelerating. The tires screeched as she tried to keep up, but the limo's driver was cunning. The vehicle turned again, veering into her path.

Y/n had no time to brake; the impact was inevitable.

Metal crunched against metal as the limo collided with her car, sending her vehicle skidding into a lamppost. Her airbag deployed with a deafening hiss, forcing the breath from her lungs.

The world blurred around her, sounds coming in and out like distant echoes.

Meanwhile, Gi-hun faced his own reckoning. He had felt the crash and the limo had stilled. He could only hope Y/n was alright.

"Did you really think you could end a game like this with one little gun?" the Frontman's voice dripped with mockery, amplified over the limo's speakers.

Gi-hun's jaw tightened as he met the voice with unflinching resolve. "Let me play the game again," he demanded, his tone unshaken.

"You want to play again?" the Frontman echoed, amusement evident in his tone.

"I want you to send me in there again."

A long silence followed, broken only by the Frontman's slow, deliberate reply. "A few moments ago, weren't you telling me to stop the game?"

"They'll love it, won't they? Your rich bosses. The returning winner who came back to play. It'll be a spectacle. Go ahead. Knock me out. Take me to the game."

"Why the hesitation?" Gi-hun pressed. "Are you afraid? Do you think you'll lose to me like Oh Il-nam?"

The Frontman's voice faltered slightly, but the hesitation didn't last long. "If that's what you want, then so be it."

The last thing Gi-hun remembered was the gas hissing in his ears and the Frontman's final words: "Player 456, welcome back to the game."

The last thing Y/n remembered was the jagged shard of glass jutting from her abdomen, catching the dim light like a cruel, crystalline dagger.

Her trembling hands fumbled as she tried to grip it, her palms slick with blood that refused to stop flowing. Each movement sent a fresh wave of agony ripping through her, sharp and unrelenting. She gasped, teeth clenched, as the edges of her vision blurred with tears she refused to shed.

The world around her was a cacophony of muffled sounds—the hiss of a leaking radiator, the faint crackle of flames licking at the wreckage.

Her phone, now lying precariously on the crumpled dashboard, lit up with Jun-ho's frantic voice.

"Y/n! Answer me! Please—just say something!" His desperation cut through the haze, but she couldn't muster the strength to reply. She tried to reach for the phone, her bloodied fingers stretching weakly toward it, but the pain in her abdomen flared like fire, forcing her back.

Blood pooled beneath her, warm and viscous, soaking through her clothes and spreading in dark, ominous patterns. She knew enough to recognize how bad this was.

The metallic tang of blood filled her nose, and the cold was creeping in, even though she could feel sweat beading on her forehead. Every shallow breath she took felt heavier, the weight of her injuries pressing down on her like an unmovable force.

"Y/n, please! Don't do this to me!" Jun-ho's voice cracked, breaking through her fading consciousness like a lifeline she couldn't grasp. "Stay with me—just hold on!"

Her lips parted, and she tried to speak, but the words were little more than whispers lost in the chaos. Her fingers grazed the shard of glass again, trembling as she tried to pull it free. Her body screamed in protest, her vision swimming as darkness began to creep in from the edges.

She exhaled shakily, her head falling back against the seat. Jun-ho's voice was still there, muffled but insistent, pleading with her to fight.

A faint, bittersweet smile touched her lips, though the effort made her wince. This was for him—for their future, their peace, the chance to end this madness once and for all.

Her eyelids grew heavier, the pain receding into a strange numbness. Her last thought before she closed her eyes was of Jun-ho's face, desperate and determined, and the sound of his voice, still calling her name as the darkness claimed her.

A/n 

erm how r we feeling? 

im trying to get all my ideas together lets see what happens!