Chapter Text
What is a thousand years to a human? For a mortal, it’s eternity, something impossible to fully grasp. For the immortal, it’s endless waiting, stretched between boredom and the torments of memory.
Vampires long ago found their own twisted answers. Some unleash their own demons, drinking blood not for survival but for the suffering of mortals. Freaks, honestly. Others seek solace in holiness, becoming like prophets, saviors who deliver “mercy” to those they might have killed yesterday. The rest are just pretend victims.
Some get absorbed in creation: building, writing, inventing, trying to trick immortality with science or philosophy. At least they did something useful.
And then there are those who, tired of the endless cycle, wish to die, and can’t. In some ways, he understood them.
Their attempts to leave turn into new circles of despair, as if Death itself turns away, refusing those who once rejected its hand.
Seong Gi-hun? He did everything at once, a little of everything.
For the first three hundred years, he went through all the stages of denial. He did it with such finesse that…
…his Master watched with amused fascination, whistling through his teeth while sipping warm, thick blood from young men’s bowls, always repeating:
"Not tired yet? Stubborn little bastard. Tch."
In truth, Gi-hun was a lousy man, not a monster, no, just not a saint. He didn’t kill for fun, didn’t cheat out of malice. He just… lived as he could. And honestly, most of the time he was bored out of his mind. Games were his passion, his purpose, the only way to feel blood still running hot. He loved betting, rolling dice, taking risks.
Modern people would call it gambling addiction, ludomania. In his time, it was simpler: “lousy bastard,” “idiot.” That’s what his mother and later his wife called him. But not his children. To them, he was a good father, caring in his own way, sometimes funny, often loud, but family. He could lose anything, money, house, honor, but not his kids. He’d protect them to his last breath.
Question: how did this “lousy bastard” become a vampire?
Ah… a story he’d rather forget. Shame ate at him.
Considering that Gi-hun could sell his last shirt, it’s no surprise that one night in the smoky gambling hall, luck, or cruel fate, smiled on him. Cards shuffled, dice danced, coins rang like music. Driven by greed and overconfidence, he dared.
He made a bet. With whom? A young man he’d never seen before, too pale, too calm to be an ordinary gambler. Richly dressed, light but confident posture. Silk robe, elegant sword, Gi-hun noticed immediately, though oddly he didn’t remember his face.
By then, Gi Hun was nearing forty, an age to settle down, build a farm, open a forge, take care of business. But he was drawn to the fire of risk.
He didn’t know how to stop. Then, or later. That last bet became a disaster.
When he realized he was losing, he looked pathetic, flailing like a fish, shaking, clutching the table as if to grab luck by the sleeve. Stakes were high: possessions, home, a shred of dignity. His wife would’ve kicked or killed him.
He probably cried. Real tears of panic and helplessness. The young man looked at him with slight disgust, like a dog latched onto a boot. And suddenly said
“Want to risk something real?”
“Like what?”
“Blood. Body. Maybe an eye. Pretty eyes you have.”
Gi-hun, naturally, agreed. He chose blood. The body, his and his wife’s. Eyes could be useful, important for reading cards and fleeing scoundrels. Blood? Well, just a little could go. Surely wouldn’t die. He did.
Who would refuse, when saving one’s pants was at stake? And then… it was too late.
Mr. Kim Chinhyul, as he called himself, seemed almost to pity him. Or just didn’t bother drinking more, claiming Gi-hun’s blood was “too salty.” Not to “ruin his palate,” he poured his own vile blood into the loser’s mouth, calmly watching Gi-hun writhe in agony. Blood didn’t please him, let it burn in hell, piece of crap.
Asshole. Monster.
That sadist even commented, mid-scream and transformation, that Gi-hun “philosophizes curiously for a peasant.”
Thus Gi-hun gained a second life. A vampire’s life.
Wife still beat him, even as a vampire,no riches brought home, thanks to the rich demon.
But…
There was a catch. This new life, frankly, annoyed him. He could spit, grumble, roll his eyes endlessly, yet his character remained, or worsened. He played even more.
Try living a thousand years, when everything you love dies. When there are only wars and plagues around. Then tell me you have no reason to sit at a table and bet everything left. Games, at least, distracted him.
A few hundred years later, he found another excuse: not drinking human blood. All because of his gift. He always claimed he’d been a decent man, or, as his mother shouted, a naive idiot with a pea in his head and a big heart.
And? His gift was humanity.
Drinking human blood disgusted Gi-hun. Human food barely satisfied him, though he could eat it. Sun didn’t burn him, fire didn’t hurt him, but losing his head? That scared him like any normal vampire. But never mind.
He switched to animals. Vampire blood? Ugh, no thanks, he gagged until blue.
Master Kim just chuckled: Gi-hun ’s gift was interesting. He realized it when Gi Hun, for his third child in Joseon, at the child’s request, kept him human. That child was already thirty.
He had few children, each with their story. Two from the first marriage, the eldest became a vampire, following his parent’s footsteps, managing his father’s wealth so he wouldn’t gamble it all away. Then came 14th-century romance: a sweet lady, a delightful daughter, and the full set of parental foolishness. Gi-hun spoiled her rotten. Even without arguments, he removed her vampire essence, the child had found love and wanted a normal human life.
Gi-hun’s life was interesting: sometimes close to his descendants, helping as he could; sometimes wandering the world, marveling at new inventions. Chinese chess and cards particularly fascinated him. And when boredom struck, he loved changing his age and pulling little pranks.
One such prank, mixed with boredom and the fact his son was in Romania on council, led to him unexpectedly becoming the child of Seong Gong-Ju and Oh Mal-soon… and he didn’t notice how badly he was screwed.
Sometimes he just needed to forget risk… and pranks. Honestly, he should’ve slept another hundred years.
⋆༺𖤍༻⋆
Gi-hun genuinely wanted to buy a proper gift for Ga-yeong, his fourth daughter. He had a huge castle, tons of accounts worldwide, thanks to his son and Master, and assets that could feed all of Seoul. But none were accessible: pretending to be Gong-Ju’s child, growing “as a human,” his son locked him out. The son was furious, calling it punishment for his lousy father.
So Gi-hun got creative. Really, he tried. Up to thirty, by human standards. Then came that ridiculous strike with chaos, noise, unemployed money, and Jeon Bae’s wild ideas… He couldn’t resist.
After escaping the mortal hustlers, who couldn’t really hurt him, flesh like stone, couldn’t even pull a kidney, he’d so fully immersed in the role of failing human that he forgot he was a millennial vampire.
When the strange guy with the suitcase offered a game of ttakji, Gi-hun agreed. His thoughts jumbled, partly due to lost winnings; the mini bonus game seemed necessary. Perhaps that’s why, on the third try, he tossed the cursed paper just right, cheek stinging from the madman’s blows, almost breaking the subway tile.
“Hope this idiot didn’t notice…” he muttered, nearly laughing.
The recruiter gave him a sharp, hungry-dog glare, but remained silent, handing a card with about 100,000 won. Honestly, Gi-hun shouldn’t have agreed to the game, nor taken the card. But who can resist gambling? He isn’t immortal… oh wait, he is. Still doesn’t stop you from being an idiot.
He quickly bought the gift and took Ga-yeong to a decent spot. Chicken was perfect, fireworks — wow, the girl glowed so brightly even his eternal vampire boredom evaporated for a while. Master, it seemed, adored his fourth daughter in his own way: fireworks in Seoul every birthday, a Singapore account. Major. But, thought Gi-hun, old Kim Chinhyul could’ve helped just once, not perform tricks.
Double jerk.
When all calmed, and he brought the sleeping daughter to her mother, he regretted once again opening his mouth with the ex. She looked at him like… even a dead man would feel guilty.
Passing old Ssamundon houses, he surprised his mother with unexpected money. Lately, she’d been gloomy, so in a caring frenzy he sometimes added a bit of his blood to her food. Subtle, but… caring. Yes, awful, but she lived, and major illnesses mattered less.
The card in his jacket pocket burned pleasantly as he rushed to his room, but Gi Hun restrained himself.
At night, patience broke. Sitting with a bottle of deer blood (disguised as a milkshake, genius), he examined the gilded card, recalling that man’s words:
“Just kids’ games? And lots of money.”
Suspicious.
Games… oh, how he loved them! Even as a human, hiding in alleys with other kids. Maybe it was time to try again?
He shifted a bit, as if apologizing to his son coming from Macau next week, and to his conscience.
He dialed.
Already at the games, it hit him: it was a mistake. Especially since his blood endurance wasn’t as strong as hoped.
⋆༺𖤍༻⋆
Gi-hun realized his mistake for the third time when he saw Sangwoo among participants. And when it finally hit him: what the hell, these aren’t kids’ games, they’re real?! Well, kinda kids’ games, but nobody warned there’d be killing. Blood flying thick; fangs itching. He hadn’t eaten well. Damn.
He wasn’t scared. He’s a vampire, won’t die.
But… still not fun.
Especially when the scent of human blood mixed with hot sand in “Red Light, Green Light.” The blond kid died firs, bullet straight to the heart. Gi-hun felt it distinctly. When the body fell and blood flowed, he wanted to scream.
Stress hit him so hard he may have returned to games afterward. Or he’s just an idiot. Who knows.
And Sangwoo… that guy shoved his hand into Gi Hun’s mouth, staring like a lunatic. Gi Hun had told his childhood best friend: being a vampire doesn’t mean drinking his blood.
Running to the bathroom? Bad idea.
Hiding in the last stall? Worse. Friend caught him, Gi-hun felt his lungs tearing.
“San Woo, can we… negotiate?”
“Hyung, either you help me now or I can’t guarantee anything” said Sangwoo.
Yep, he’s screwed. Total idiot. Mom was right.
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