The subway station felt like a distant hum in the background as Hae-won Sook sat down on a wooden bench, aimlessly staring ahead, her thoughts swirling like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind. A pair of bulky headphones encased her ears, effectively muting the myriad of hushed conversations that flowed around her, transforming the busy atmosphere of the station into an undisturbed cocoon where only her favorite rock song resided. The crisp air bit at her skin, leaving the tip of her nose slightly pink, an indication of the chill that crept into the station, prompting her to momentarily sniffle.

She delicately brushed her finger beneath her nostrils, almost as if trying to chase away the intrusive thoughts that nibbled at the edges of her mind. As the final notes of her cherished song faded into silence, her gaze was reluctantly drawn to the digital screen hanging above the platform. The bright letters announced a twenty-minute wait until the next train; a seemingly insurmountable eternity in her current state of longing to return home. She exhaled deeply, her lungs aching with the strain of her day, the black puffer jacket she wore expanding and contracting with each breath.

Perhaps a harsh reminder of the layers of responsibility she carried on her shoulders.

Just an hour earlier, she had finished a long shift cleaning high-end offices, a job she was thankful for, yet the weight of gratitude was quickly overshadowed by the relentless thought of her father's mounting debt that felt as though it was burning a hole through the fabric of her jacket pocket. The mental image of the bills piling up, like neglected leaves left to wither on the ground, forced the corners of her lips down into a faint frown, deepening the shadows beneath her eyes.

So engrossed was she in her internal struggle that she failed to notice the man who had chosen to sit directly next to her on the bench. Though the bench was spacious enough for three, he opted for a mere couple of inches between them, creating an invisible barrier that nevertheless felt charged with a peculiar tension. Sensing the weight of his gaze, which seemed to linger longer than the usual sidelong glances of strangers, she instinctively removed her headphones, letting them rest in her lap as she turned to face him.

For a moment, her breath hitched when she took in his appearance. He wore a clean, gray suit that fit him like a second skin, tailored impeccably to his slim figure, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist. It was then that she realized, with a mix of surprise and intrigue, that his features were striking up close. His jawline was sharp and well-defined, his cheekbones high and prominent, framing a face that was not only handsome but also oddly symmetrical.

"You look exhausted, Miss," his raspy voice echoed between them.

Sook could feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at her eyelids, the dark circles beneath her doe-like eyes stark against her pale skin, a silent testament to the sleepless nights and unending responsibilities that had become the backbone of her daily existence. Working three demanding jobs and juggling multiple side projects was no small feat, yet here she was, caught in the grueling monotony of it all, trapped on a bench in a bustling train station with a weird man.

A pent-up scoff escaped her lips, a mix of frustration and resignation as she whispered, "Well, no shit, I want to go home just like everyone else."

The man sitting next to her, however, was an enigma wrapped in a smirk, his smile radiating a mischievous glint that danced in his piercing gaze, creating an almost magnetic pull toward him. With an unsettling calmness, he countered her internal dialogue, leaning slightly closer and tilting his head as if to dissect the very essence of her being, saying, "But you're not like everyone else."

His fingers, adorned with an air of authority, rested atop a sleek black briefcase that seemed to pulse with untold secrets, the faint tapping against its hard surface mirroring the drumming of her heart as curiosity mixed with suspicion. What the hell did that mean? The questions swirled in her mind like a tempest, causing her to lean back against the cold, unyielding surface of the bench, her bulky headphones resting in her lap, still pumping pop music into her ears.

Shaking her head slowly, she instinctively began to shift further down the bench, her voice halfheartedly escaping her mouth, "I'm not interested in whatever you're trying to sell."

Yet, the man interrupted her with an almost playful wave of his hand, an assurance lacing his tone as he quickly stated, "I'm not trying to sell anything, Miss. I only want to help."

The word 'help' hung in the air, weaving its way into her thoughts and halting her instinctual retreat. She blinked a couple of times, caught off guard, as she watched him settle the briefcase firmly between them, the audible click of its lock reverberating ominously in her head. As he opened the case, the contents seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the station. Her jaw shifted with intrigue and dread as he pulled out a stack of red and blue tiles.

"Let's play a game," he declared, turning the briefcase toward her to reveal stacks and stacks of money nestled inside, a visual spectacle that brought a flicker of hope to her otherwise dreary day.

Holding up the tiles with a flourish, as if they were keys to unlocking something far beyond the mundane, he continued, "Ddakji. It so happens to be my favorite."

His words flowed effortlessly, detailing the simple yet risky mechanics of the game, "We take turns throwing the tile to flip the other. You win, you get 100,000 won each time. You lose..."

Yet, there was a momentary pause, his gaze drifting to her pouty lips with an unsettling intensity before he added, "I get to slap you."

Sook couldn't help but stare down at the stacks and stacks of money that lay enticingly within the open briefcase, its metallic surface gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights of the subway station. Each bundle of crisp bills was meticulously arranged, their bright colors almost pulsating with a life of their own, whispering sweet promises of a life untethered by her father's unpaid debts that hung like a dark cloud over her family. The allure of wealth, juxtaposed against her current struggles, was intoxicating, and for a moment, it felt as if the money was calling out to her, beckoning her to take a chance, to seize an opportunity that had the potential to change everything.

However, the longer she stared, the more a sense of weariness began to creep into her thoughts. Almost impossible to ignore. It was as if an invisible weight pressed down on her shoulders, reminding her that every decision came with consequences.

"No thank you, Sir," she politely declined his offer, shaking her head.

For once, she listened carefully when her instincts were screaming at her to walk away and ignore the siren call of money. She wished him a nice day, a rehearsed script that rolled off her tongue as she reached for her headphones, intent on drowning out the chaos around her. Yet, just as she turned away, she caught a flicker of panic in the man's strikingly handsome face.

"200,000 won," he quickly increased the stakes for each round, causing her to halt in her tracks. "What's the harm in trying, you know?"

Doubt gnawed at her resolve, her grip on the headphones wavering as she toyed with the idea of playing, caught in a whirlwind of temptation and caution. The silence hung thick between them, and after a brief, internal struggle, she found herself biting her bottom lip, feeling the urge to assert her own value in this game of chance. "500,000 won each round I win," she declared, her voice filled with defiance, knowing that if she was to risk being slapped by a grown man, the reward needed to justify the danger.

The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his lips curling into a mischievous smile that danced dangerously along the edges of amusement and intrigue. It was as if he had underestimated her, and now he was captivated by her audacity. "Alright, Miss, you have yourself a deal," he breathed, his words laced with excitement as he stood up from the bench, the thrill of the challenge igniting a spark in his nearly black eyes.

Releasing her bottom lip from between her teeth, she finally placed her headphones on the bench, turning to face him fully, ready to engage in this game that felt as precarious as it was exhilarating. "What color would you like to play as?" he asked with a friendly demeanor, holding up both red and blue tiles, as if inviting her into a world where the stakes were as high as the potential for victory.

She inhaled a shallow breath, the gravity of her decision hanging heavily in the air, and with a flick of her finger, pointed decisively at the blue tile, feeling the weight of her choice settle in her chest. As he handed her the blue tile, she couldn't help but notice the way he bent down to place the red tile on the floor, an almost theatrical gesture that marked the beginning of a game that was not just about money, but about courage, risk, and the desire for something greater.

What Sook hadn't told the man was that she was incredibly good at Ddakji. It was a skill mastered through years of playful rivalry with her older brother, who had first introduced her to the game when she was merely ten years old. On that fateful day, when the sun filtered through their living room window and danced across the floor, her brother had unwrapped the brightly colored tiles with an excitement that echoed in her own heart.

They had spent countless afternoons in spirited competition, Sook's laughter mingling with her brother's taunts as they perfected their technique, the rhythm of their playful banter punctuating the air like the sharp clap of their tiles meeting one another. She remembered the way her arm would swing back, a well-practiced motion that felt as natural as breathing, before the powerful strike that sent her blue tile soaring into the air, flipping the red tile with a satisfying snap. Each victory felt like a triumph over gravity itself, and over the years, she had mastered the art of the game to the point where every flick of her wrist felt like a dance, a delicate balance of power and precision that her brother had long come to respect.

So, when she found herself standing in front of the man, his face initially bright with enthusiasm, it was only a matter of moments before that excitement waned, replaced by a stoic expression as he suffered defeat after defeat at her hands. She had beaten him seven times in a row, each game a mirror reflecting her years of practice, her victory not a stroke of luck but the culmination of dedication and skill that belied her youthful appearance. After the final game, she noticed the corners of his mouth twitching as he fought back laughter, an expression that was both puzzling and oddly satisfying.

He reached down to gather the tiles scattered across the subway station floor, and when he stood up, the weight of his defeat lingered in the air, palpable yet strangely light. With a chuckle that seemed to bounce off the tiles and echo in the bustling station, he bluntly remarked, "You've surprised me. I don't typically lose. Do you play often?"

The question hung between them, a challenge wrapped in curiosity. She merely brushed a loose strand of her dark brunette hair behind her ear. "No, it's not my thing. It just seems like luck is on my side for once," she replied coolly, lifting her shoulder into a half-shrug.

The momentary pause that followed her words was electric. "Perhaps," he hummed in response; a low sound reverberating from deep within the tailored confines of his pristine suit. He then began rummaging through his black briefcase, the meticulous manner in which he did so betraying a certain urgency. With an air of intrigue, he turned to her, now brandishing handfuls of money, crisp notes that gleamed with potential.

Sook's heart raced as she zipped open her book bag, her faint smile betraying a mix of triumph and curiosity when she motioned for him to put the cash inside. The sensation of 3,500,000 won now resting heavily on her shoulder felt surreal. As she took a step backward, her eyes remained fixed on the man, who was now collecting his briefcase with a lopsided grin that suggested there was more to him than met the eye.

Tilting her head slightly, she ventured to probe further, asking, "So, do you go around and gamble away money for... what, fun?"

The man held his briefcase close, a protective gesture that hinted at a deeper narrative, and stared down at her with a sly grin before curtly stating, "I don't gamble, Miss. I give opportunities."

This statement sent a ripple of confusion through her mind, and as he reached into his suit pocket, she felt the tension between them shift once more, culminating in the moment he handed her a small business card; a simple piece of paper that now held the weight of a thousand possibilities.

Sook looked down at the black card that rested between her agile fingers, its surface smooth yet cool to the touch. The strange shapes printed onto it seemed to shift and shimmer under the fluorescent lights of the subway station, their conceptual forms defying her attempts to distinguish any meaningful pattern. Beneath these enigmatic designs lay a phone number, stark and unyielding against the dark color, and as she blinked a couple of times to clear her mind, her attention drifted back to the man standing before her.

He was an odd figure. His casual demeanor and easy smile were incongruous with the heavy implications of his smooth words. With an unflinching gaze, he bluntly stated, "If you're willing to participate in a much bigger competition for a much bigger prize, call that number."

Yet, even as he spoke, an uneasy sensation began to churn in her stomach.

Just then, the sound of the approaching train broke the tense air around them, its thunderous roar reverberating off the station's walls and cutting through the static of their exchange. As she turned to watch the train enter the station, its bright colors blurring into a single mass of motion, she caught a glimpse of the man standing right where she had left him. For a brief moment, his words echoed distantly in her mind.

"I hope I see you again."

The train came to a full stop, its doors sliding open with a pneumatic hiss, triggering a chain reaction of people rushing forward, eager to claim the best seats and escape the throbbing chaos of the platform. Turning back around, she felt a strange emptiness wash over her. The man had seemingly vanished into the crowd, leaving her alone with her swirling thoughts and the black card still firmly in her hand. It was unsettling how quickly he had disappeared, almost as if he were a figment of her imagination conjured up by the unusual atmosphere of the station itself.

Everything about this encounter felt off-kilter, drenched in an inexplicable strangeness that lingered like the aftertaste of a bizarre dream. With the business card still clutched tightly in her hand, she shook her head to dispel the disquieting thoughts that threatened to overtake her. Inhaling a deep breath through her nose, she joined the crowd, her heart pounding in rhythm with the departing train.

Hae-won Sook     (009)

I am hoping it is enough to be both angry and alive, because I am not sure I have it in me to be gentle and alive.

Portrayed by Jeon Jong Seo

Hwang In-ho     (001)

I have always felt ashamed at being witnessed in the act of wanting something I could never have.

Portrayed by Lee Byung-hun

Extended Cast.

Jo Yuri     Player 222     Jun-hee
Lee Jung-jae     Player 456     Gi-hun
Yim Si-wan     Player 333     Myung-gi
Park Sung-hoon     Player 120     Hyun-ju
Lee Jin-uk     Player 246     Gyeong-seok
Won Ji-an     Player 380     Se-mi
Kang Ha-neul     Player 388     Dae-ho
Lee Seo-hwan     Player 390     Jung-Bae
Kang Ae-sim     Player 149     Geum-ja
Yang Dong-geun     Player 007     Yong-sik
Lee David     Player 125     Min-su
Roh Jae-won     Player 124     Nam-gyu
Choi Seung-hyun     Player 230     Thanos
Chae Kuk-hee     Player 044     Seon-nyeo
Gong Yoo     The Recruiter
Lee Ye-won Yun-hee
Choi Seung Hoon Ha-joon ♱
Shin Min Ah Sun-ah ♱
Lee Dong-wook Junseo

+ The Squid Games ( Season Two ) cast as their respective characters.

Disclaimer and warnings.

I do not own Squid Games. However, I do own Sook Hae-won. Consequently, her background, dialogue, and plot line belong to me, unless stated otherwise.

This book will contain mentions of the following: character deaths, heavy gore, forks, crude language, dead bodies, violence, sexually explicit content, illegal substances, murder... the usual Squid Games themes.

Please be advised:
18+
However, this is purely a work of fiction.

Dedication.

To all of those who are obsessed with the Front Man.

Author's note.

There isn't much Player 001 books... so uh, here we go.

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