THE HEART OF A MAN.
(hours after the game was terminated)

Hwang In-ho did have a heart, he hadn't realize it until he saw her in a puddle of blood in the arms of his so-called enemies.

Seung-Hyun Eden had finally earned his trust, then it was time that was their enemy.

He showed sympathy, but only for her.

But why? He was the frontman, why would he care if a girl that was drowning in debt like all the other players. Why would he warm up to her if she was just another one of his muppets?

That was the thing.

She wasn't one of his puppets, neither was Gi-hun and much less Kang Dae-ho. They wanted to get out, and In-ho almost felt bad for them, almost for all of them.

After the fight that ended many people's lives, the people that wanted to leave ended up winning the voting. In-ho could've chosen to stay, but then he wouldn't have been able to take Seung-Hyun Eden to revive her.

She died, her heart beat had stopped beating, her eyes had been closed by Gi-hun. She was meant to stay dead.

But In-ho couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let the young woman die for nothing, she had so much to live for. And to die in the arms of the man he loved, almost reminded him of the moment his wife and un-born child left him, in the arms of a heartbroken man.

If his child had lived, maybe he wouldn't be here. If his child had lived, maybe it would've grown to be like Eden. Protective, thoughtful, generous, empathetic, and most of all, selfless. In-ho wished his child was here, maybe then everything wouldn't be the same as how it was now.

After everyone was sedated and brought back to their homes. In-ho and his most trusted guards took Eden to another trusted doctor, someone that he knew would give her a second opportunity to life.

Seung-Hyun Eden and Kim Jun-hee were the only two players he had wished could've gotten out. Only one of them did.

When it was just the doctor and In-ho, he took his mask off.

"Sir." He nodded, making the frontman nod back. The doctor sighed and looked at the young woman lying in the bed. "May I know who it is?" He asked as he grabbed utensils.

In-ho looked down to Eden for a moment before looking away. "She reminds me of a certain someone." He responded.

She reminded him of what his child could have been, he didn't know exactly why.

When the silence was quiet enough for both of them, In-ho sighed. "You can save her, right? There's still a pulse." He pointed out quickly.

"Yes, sir." The doctor responded as he inserted a tube onto the woman's vein. "If you had brought her a second later then it would've been too late, but she can still live." He added as he grabbed the syringe and placed it on the tube.

In-ho stared at him with narrowed eyebrows, "you're wondering what happened to her." He stated.

"I am, but I won't ask." He responded blankly.

He nodded to himself and looked away.

Hwang In-ho was never meant to feel this way. He was the frontman, the enforcer of the rules, the unwavering hand of control in the chaos of the game. His job was to ensure the balance between survival and despair, not to sympathize with the players who willingly entered the games. 

But as he stood in the secret room of the doctor's hideaway, his mask discarded, he realized just how deeply he had failed to remain detached. Seung-Hyun Eden lay motionless on the table, her once fierce and determined expression now replaced by the eerie stillness of death. The blood on her clothes had dried, but the image of her collapsing into Dae-ho's arms was burned into his mind. 

She wasn't supposed to matter. None of them were. 

Yet, as he stared at her pale face, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to a life that had never been—a life that could have been his. 

In Eden, he saw shades of the child he and his wife never had the chance to meet. He remembered the warmth in his wife's voice when she spoke of their future, the way her hand lingered on her stomach as if she could already feel their child's heartbeat. It was a future stolen by tragedy, leaving In-ho to drown in the shadows of what-ifs. And now, staring at Eden, he couldn't shake the haunting thought: If my child had lived, would they have been like her?

Her fire, her stubbornness, her refusal to yield even in the face of overwhelming odds—they were all qualities he had hoped to see in his own child. She was selfless to a fault, risking her life for people she barely knew, much like his wife had been. That kind of goodness was rare, almost extinct in a world like this. 

The doctor's voice cut through his thoughts. "Sir, I'll need a moment to stabilize her. It's not guaranteed, but there's a chance." 

In-ho nodded stiffly, masking the chaos of emotions threatening to spill over. "Do what you can." His voice was steady, but inside, he was unraveling. 

He turned his back to the table, staring out of the small window in the room, where moonlight barely seeped through the cracks. He clenched his fists, trying to force himself to see her as just another player, another number in a system he was meant to uphold. But it didn't work. 

"I said she reminded me of someone," he muttered, more to himself than to the doctor. 

The doctor paused, glancing up. "Someone important?" 

In-ho didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the darkness outside. "It doesn't matter," he said finally, his tone sharp, almost defensive. "Just focus on saving her." 

But it did matter. He knew it mattered more than anything. He could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, the guilt of trying to undo something he was never supposed to interfere with. He wasn't supposed to care. He wasn't supposed to defy the rules of the game. And yet, here he was, risking everything to give her a second chance. 

Because if Eden died, it would feel like losing his wife and unborn child all over again. 

In the suffocating silence of the room, In-ho wrestled with himself. He had spent years convincing himself that emotions were a weakness, that caring about others would only lead to pain. But standing here, watching a young woman sway on the edge of life and death, he felt something crack within him. 

It terrified him. 

"She does has a pulse," the doctor said suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. "But it's faint. Shes already stabilize, so there a big possibility that she'll live." 

In-ho exhaled, though it wasn't relief he felt. It was something else—something heavier, like regret. He turned back toward Eden, his face hardening again as if he could mask the conflict raging inside him. 

"Good," he said coldly. "Do whatever it takes." 

He wanted to leave the room, to put distance between himself and the sight of her fragile body, but he couldn't move. Instead, he stood there, watching as the doctor worked to save her. His mind screamed at him to stop caring, to let her go, to remember his place. 

He wasn't supposed to care. And yet, here he was, risking everything to give a girl like Eden a second chance. Not for the games. Not for the organization. But for himself. Because maybe, just maybe, saving her would quiet the ghost of the child he'd lost.

And when it was all over, when Eden's heartbeat steadied and the doctor assured him she would live, In-ho put his mask back on. The cold steel pressed against his skin, and with it, he buried whatever fragile piece of humanity had surfaced.

This wasn't about sentiment. That's what he told himself as he walked out, leaving Eden in the doctor's care.

After all, the Frontman wasn't supposed to care.

Martina speaks:  this sudden plot is lowkey plotting ngl 😏😏 it was hard not to write an actual dialogue but I got through it, dropping two more chapters because this one and the next one are kind of boring. Just for the plot yk, but chapter 23 will be AQESOME