Chapter Text
Kang No-eul blinked as fluorescent light crept into her room. She rubbed her eyes, letting out an irritated moan.
“The Commander wants to speak to you.”
No-eul’s heart nearly stopped.
“The Commander?”
She uttered under her breath.
No-eul heard of the Commander, but they had yet to meet in the flesh. He was a new, mysterious figure on the island–his reputation and identity built on nothing but whispers and vague rumors. No one knew much about him, and that alone filled her with unease.
“Did I do something wrong?”
She asked, her breath hitched.
“He wants to speak with you. That’s all I know.”
The manager in the doorway replied.
“Quickly now. He says it's urgent.”
***
No-eul stepped into the dim office, her entire body vibrating with terror. Her dilated eyes fell on a tall, intimidating figure hovering over a leather armchair. He had an almost ghost-like appearance with his long, stark white cloak and smooth, blank mask adorned only with two dark eyeholes.
“Good evening, number 11.”
He greeted, his voice distorted by the eerie mask.
“Evening…Commander.”
No-eul replied, unable to conceal the terror in her tone.
“Would you prefer I call you by your real name?”
No-eul paused, the question catching her off guard. Still, she managed to utter a meek “Yes.”
The Commander took a step forward, his posture hunched slightly.
“You don’t have to be scared, No-eul. You’re not in trouble. Quite the opposite, actually.”
The moment the commander's words sank in, her body seemed to deflate, the tension evaporating from her like a storm cloud lifting. She blinked, not quite processing at first, then felt a wave of warmth spread through her chest. Her shoulders, which had been knotted in tight, anxious tension, finally relaxed. It was as though a weight she hadn’t even realized she was carrying had been lifted. Her breath came easier now, the tightness in her throat gone.
His tone was kind, almost gentle, and they didn’t carry the harshness she expected. There was no malice in his tone, no cruel edge, or hint of deception.
“I just have some questions for you.”
The Commander gestured to the armchair.
“Take a seat.”
No-eul sat in the luxurious chair, sighing as her sore body sank into the expensive leather cushioning.
“I’ve been reviewing some camera footage, mainly in the staff dorms.”
No-eul winced, the violent memory of being held down and threatened by two men still fresh in her mind. She could still feel the hands on her, rough and unyielding, pinning her down. Two menacing shadows at the edge of her mind, their weight pressing on her chest, on her limbs. She fought, struggled, but it was useless. The memories weren’t just pictures in her mind–they were raw, visceral, like a night terror she couldn’t wake up from.
“Two soldiers forced their way into your room. Is that correct?”
No-eul nodded.
“Did they harm you at all?”
The soldier's stomach twisted, her hands anxiously gripping the chair’s arms. The wound on her cheek still stung, constantly reminding her of the attack.
“They held me down. One of them cut my face. They also said they would cut my fingers off and incinerate them.”
She confessed, her voice cracking as she recalled the traumatic event.
The Commander nodded, listening intently.
“Do you know why they did that?”
No-eul hesitated, fearing that her honesty would paint a giant red target on her back. She began to shake again, tears brimming in her eyes.
“It's ok. You can tell me.”
She swallowed, her chest heaving.
The Commander came closer and slowly reached out, placing a comforting hand on No-eul's shoulder.
“No-eul, I will personally ensure your safety. No one is going to harm you. Not while I’m around.”
No-eul swallowed hard. It had been so long since anyone had made her feel like she mattered. So long since someone had cared enough to protect her. Even in the outside world, she had long grown used to silence, living in constant terror, always holding her breath, always looking over her shoulder.
Now, this man, essentially a stranger, vowed to protect her. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had offered her anything remotely decent.
No-eul sniffled, ready to spill her guts.
“Some of the other soldiers…They purposely shoot players in nonlethal parts of their body so they’ll still be alive in the coffins. After that, they’re sent somewhere to have their organs harvested. I…I saw them doing it during the game today, so I ordered them to open the coffin so I could ensure the player was…properly eliminated. I just thought it was the right thing to do.”
The Commander was silent, the black holes in his mask almost conveying a sense of sadness and disappointment. Not with her, but from the depraved actions of his subordinates.
“That is…That is the right thing to do, No-eul.”
He assured gently.
“Do you know anyone else who might be involved in this organ trafficking ring?”
No-eul’s eyes widened slightly as a familiar face flashed in her head.
The Officer.
She bit her tongue, nodding. Despite the Commander’s promises, she didn’t have it in her to expose the high-ranking officer.
“No. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Don’t be sorry. You still gave me very valuable information. Thank you, No-eul.”
The Commander said, bowing his head slightly.
“I apologize for summoning you here so late. I’ll make sure you are compensated for your honesty.”
No-eul cracked a rare smile behind her mask.
“Thank you, sir.”
She replied, also bowing her head in return.
“You are dismissed. The guard outside will escort you back to your dorm.”
No-eul stood up from the luxurious seat, her body lax now that all her fears were quelled.
“Good night, sir.”
“Good night, No-eul.”
The Commander watched No-eul step outside, her soft footsteps quickly fading as she and her escort traveled further down the pastel hallway. He sighed, reaching for the radio nestled in his pocket before holding it to his mouth.
BEEP
“Yes?”
“This is the Commander. Take soldiers 17 and 23 from their rooms and bring them to my clinic.”
“Right away, sir.”
***
Gi-hun shed his second face, setting it on the table beside his armchair. He immediately reached into his pocket, retrieving a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He plucked one from the middle, holding it between his teeth as his fingers clicked at the lighter. The routine took longer than usual, Gi-hun’s hands slightly trembling from withdrawal and anticipation.
He flicked the lighter once, then again, until the tiny flame bloomed, warm and perfect. The moment the end of the stick caught, he drew in a deep, greedy breath. The toxic smoke filled his lungs, soothing and burning all at once. His eyelids fluttered half-closed as the potent nicotine flowed through his bloodstream.
Gi-hun exhaled slowly, watching the white smoke dance in the air before slowly fading into the ceiling. He licked his dry lips before taking another long drag, hoping it would settle his nerves.
After all, he was going to need steady hands for what he was about to do.