The train rattled along the tracks, cutting through the Seoul skyline beneath the dark sky. The three sat side by side, not saying much at first. The exhaustion was still in their bones, but something else had started to settle too—a strange, tentative peace.
Gi-hun looked out the window, then turned toward Sang-woo. "You know," he said quietly, "you can pay off everything now. Every loan shark. Every debt. You and your mom… you'll never have to work again."
Sang-woo didn't answer at first. His eyes were heavy, distant. Then he nodded slowly, voice rough. "Thank you. For… everything. I don't know why you pulled me up back there. I wouldn't have."
Gi-hun shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. "I almost lost my best friend back there. That's not something I could've lived with."
Sang-woo swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. Then, after a moment, he turned to Sae-byeok. "I… I'm sorry. For what I tried to do. I don't know what got into me that night. Maybe I do. Maybe it was just… everything."
She looked at him, tired but calm. "Don't hate the player," she said simply, "hate the game."
Sang-woo let out a breath, something between a laugh and a sob. "Maybe that's fair," he muttered.
Gi-hun nodded. "It's the truth."
The train began to slow as they approached Ssangmun-dong. The familiar buildings rolled past the windows. Old lives, waiting to be reclaimed.
When they stepped off the train, Sang-woo stood still for a moment, looking toward the street that led to his mother's apartment. The evening air wrapped around them, quiet and cool.
"I should go," he said softly, his voice laced with guilt and fear, but also with something like hope. "She doesn't even know I was gone."
Gi-hun clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Go home, Sang-woo. Start over. You still have that chance."
Sae-byeok gave him a small nod, not unkind. "Make it count."
Sang-woo gave them both a final glance, eyes shining with something unspoken, and then turned down the road—each step heavy but purposeful—as he slowly made his way back to his mother.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he could face her.
The streets felt quieter now, as if the world itself were finally letting out a long, exhausted breath. Just the two of them remained—Gi-hun and Sae-byeok—walking without much of a destination. The city pulsed softly around them, but neither of them said a word for a while.
Eventually, Gi-hun broke the silence. "Do you… have somewhere to go?"
Sae-byeok paused, a small shake of her head. "Not really," she admitted. "Not yet."
He looked over at her. "You could stay with me. I've got space. It's not fancy, but… it's warm. And safe." He gave a half-smile. "And I promise I don't snore. Much."
That got the tiniest smile out of her—tired, wary, but real. "Alright," she said softly. "Just for a night."
"Yeah," he said. "Just for a night."
As they walked, her pace slowed, eyes fixed on the horizon. "I keep thinking," she said. "What if my mom's still alive? What if I actually have the money now to bring her here? To get Cheol safe? A home, school, a real future."
"You will," Gi-hun said without hesitation. "We'll find her. And I'll help you with your brother. And you'll meet my mom, too. She'll love you."
She glanced over at him, and something passed between them. Not romance, not exactly. Just… understanding. Hope. Shared survival.
They reached his building just as the sun began to dip below the skyline, casting the stairwell in soft golds and shadows. The air smelled like city dust and rain.
Step by step, they climbed the narrow stairs, their footsteps echoing hollowly. He reached his door, hand hesitating just a second before unlocking it.
Then he pushed it open.
At first, everything seemed normal. The apartment was quiet, the same worn-out slippers at the entrance, the faint smell of something long gone cold on the stove.
But then he froze.
And Sae-byeok saw it too.
There she was—his mother—lying crumpled on the floor near the kitchen, lifeless, still, her hands clutching her stomach as if in pain. A bag of groceries had spilled beside her. A roll of kimbap, a few green onions, an apple.
Gi-hun didn't breathe.
He staggered forward, fell to his knees.
"Mom…?" he whispered.
But there was no answer.
Gi-hun knelt there, completely frozen, eyes locked on his mother's lifeless body as if time itself had shattered. His breath caught in his throat, trembling fingers reaching toward her, brushing her cold cheek.
"Mom…"
His voice cracked—barely more than a whisper—raw, broken, helpless.
"Mom, please…"
He collapsed fully beside her, curling forward, pressing his forehead against her chest, as if maybe, just maybe, if he stayed like that long enough, she'd wake up. That this was just another nightmare. Just one more twisted test from the games.
But this wasn't a game. This was real.
The sobs came without warning, ripping out of him like something feral. All the pain, the fear, the guilt—the weight of everything—crashing down all at once.
"I did all of it for you…" he cried. "Every second… I just wanted to come back a better son…"
Behind him, Sae-byeok stood silent, watching, her own heart heavy with a quiet sorrow. Slowly, she moved forward, knelt beside him, not saying anything at first. Just placing a hand gently on his back.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
He turned slightly, his eyes wet, bloodshot. "She was everything I had left."
Sae-byeok didn't try to say otherwise. Didn't give him some lie about time healing wounds or her being in a better place. She just stayed with him, steady and present, until the worst of the shaking faded.
Eventually, in silence, they lifted her body together.
They didn't know where they were going. Just that she couldn't stay here. Not like this.
They walked for miles, through alleyways and quiet neighborhoods, avoiding other eyes. Gi-hun's arms never loosened their grip once. Not until they found a small patch of overgrown earth near a hillside temple—a forgotten corner of Seoul where the city noise melted away.
There, under the faint light of the moon, they dug a grave with nothing but their hands and a broken plank they found nearby. It took almost an hour. Every second was heavy.
Finally, they laid her down gently, Gi-hun whispering something only his mother would hear, his fingers brushing her hair one last time.
He covered her with earth slowly, carefully, as if afraid to let go.
When it was done, Sae-byeok placed a few gathered stones to mark the spot. Then she stood beside him, the two of them staring in silence at the small, lonely grave.
The wind moved softly through the trees.
"She would've been proud of you," Sae-byeok said, her voice barely audible.
Gi-hun swallowed hard, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "I wish she'd lived long enough to see it."
"She saw enough to know the kind of man you are."
Gi-hun didn't answer. But he nodded, just once.
Then the two of them turned, and began the long, quiet walk back into the city.
That night, the city lights outside flickered through the window, cold and distant. Gi-hun sat at the edge of the couch, a half-empty bottle of soju dangling from his hand, his eyes lost somewhere in the blur of neon and night. The silence in the apartment was crushing—too heavy, too loud.
He took another sip. Then another.
Trying to drown it all: the grief, the trauma, the blood on his hands, the weight of ₩11.3 billion that suddenly meant absolutely nothing.
Behind him, Sae-byeok sat on the floor by the low table, her own bottle clutched tightly. She hadn't said much since the burial. Had barely touched her food. But seeing his mother's body… it had cracked something open inside her.
She exhaled slowly, bitterly, staring down at the liquid in her cup.
"My father… he was supposed to see us safe."
Her words were quiet, slurred with exhaustion and drink.
"He carried my brother across that river. He smiled at me… even when the guards raised their guns."
Gi-hun turned slowly, eyes red and glassy, his breath catching.
"What happened?"
She looked up at him. A single tear rolled down her cheek, but her voice was strangely steady.
"They shot him. Right in front of me. I couldn't scream. I couldn't stop running. I just… ran."
The pain in her voice hit him like a wave. He moved closer, kneeling beside her.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured, meaning it with everything he had left.
"You didn't deserve any of this."
Neither of them did.
She let out a bitter laugh. "None of us did. But we're still here." She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "You don't have to be alone, Gi-hun."
He stared at her, a long pause, his face unreadable.
"Neither do you."
They were both drunk—too drunk—and maybe that made everything louder, brighter, heavier. Or maybe it just stripped away the walls. All that was left was two people, broken, grieving, clinging to something that felt like the closest thing to comfort they'd known in a long time.
They stumbled onto the couch together, half laughing, half crying, the world spinning around them. Sae-byeok held onto his shirt as if it were a lifeline, and Gi-hun cupped her face like she might vanish if he let go.
His hand, heavy and clumsy, found her thigh. She didn't pull away, her eyes locked onto his. "You're trouble, Gi-hun," she murmured, her voice thick with alcohol and something else. Something darker, more primal. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "I could say the same thing about you, Sae-byeok."
His hand inched up her thigh. She bit her lip, her breath hitching as his thumb brushed against the lace of her panties. "You're so fucking drunk," she whispered, but her body betrayed her, arching into his touch. "As are you," he replied, his voice a growl.
She didn't resist as he pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling him. Their mouths crashed together, a messy, desperate kiss. Tongues tangled, teeth clinked, and they laughed into each other's mouths, the sound muffled and hungry.
Gi-hun's hands roamed, mapping out her curves, squeezing her ass, pulling her hips flush against his. He could feel her heat through his jeans, and it sent a jolt of desire straight through him. She moaned, grinding against him, her eyes rolling back. "Fuck, Gi-hun," she gasped, breaking the kiss.
He pulled off her shirt, tossing it aside. Her bra followed, and then she was bare-chested, her nipples hard and begging for his attention. He obliged, sucking one into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. She cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her. He lavished attention on her breasts, switching between them, his hands roaming her body, exploring every inch of her soft skin.
She was a whirlwind of sensation, her body alive and aching. She fumbled with Gi-hun's shirt, finally managing to pull it off. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle, the rough scars from their past. She leaned down, her tongue tracing the lines, her teeth nipping at his skin.
His mouth found hers again, his kiss hungry, demanding. His hands roamed her body, tracing the curve of her hips, the softness of her thighs. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down her neck, her collarbone, until he reached her breasts. He took his time, lavishing attention on each one, his tongue swirling around her nipples, his teeth grazing the sensitive buds.
Sae-byeok arched into his touch, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her. "Gi-hun," she moaned, her voice thick with desire. "Please…"
He looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust."Please what, Sae-byeok?" he growled. "Tell me what you want."
She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing. "I… I want you to touch me. Down there."
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. He eagerly kissed his way down her stomach, his hands pushing her panties down. She lifted her hips, helping him, and then she was bare, her pussy glistening with her arousal.
He looked up at her, his eyes locked onto hers. Without hesitation he leaned down, his tongue flicking out to taste her.
She cried out, her hips bucking. He gripped her thighs, holding her in place, his tongue exploring her folds, circling her clit. She was sweet and salty, and he couldn't get enough. He feasted on her, his tongue thrusting into her, his fingers joining in, stretching her, preparing her.
"Gi-hun," she panted, her body tensing."I'm… I'm going to…" Her words turned into a moan as she came, her body convulsing, her fingers gripping his hair.
He looked up at her, his mouth glistening with her arousal. "That was just warm-up," he said, his voice a low growl. He stood, unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down. His cock sprang free, hard and aching.
She looked at it, her eyes wide. "Fuck, Gi-hun," she breathed. "You're… huge."
He chuckled, a dark, hungry sound. His hand reached between them, guiding his cock to her entrance. She nodded, her eyes locked onto his. "Yes," she whispered. "I need it, Gi-hun. Please."
He pushed into her, slowly, inch by inch. She was tight, her body stretching to accommodate him. She gasped, her nails digging into his back. He paused, giving her time to adjust. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with restraint.
She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes. Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
He began to move, first slowly and steadily, then faster, harder, his body slamming into hers. She met him move for move, her hips rising to meet his, her body craving more, always more. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, mingling with their moans and panting breaths.
"Fuck, Sae-byeok," Gi-hun growled, his voice tight with pleasure. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, marking her. She could feel the tension building inside her, her body coiling like a spring.
"Gi-hun," she gasped, her eyes locked onto his. "I'm… I'm close."
"Come for me, Sae-byeok," he commanded, his voice a low growl.
His words pushed her over the edge. She cried out, her body convulsing, her pussy pulsing around his cock. He groaned, his body tensing as he followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her with his hot seed.
They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed together, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Then, with a groan, Gi-hun rolled off her, pulling her into his arms. She went willingly, her body limp with exhaustion. The room spun around them, the alcohol still coursing through their veins. They were both too tired, too sated to move. And so, with their limbs tangled and their bodies still damp with sweat and come, they fell asleep.