Player 456, Seong Gi-hun, and Player 001 were playing a marble guessing game.
The rules were simple: one player would hold a number of marbles in their hand, and the other would guess whether it was odd or even while betting a number of their own marbles for that round. If the guess was correct, they won the same number of marbles from their opponent. If wrong, they lost that many.
001 wasn't lying when he said he'd played before—he was a master. Before long, Seong Gi-hun was down to just one marble.
The Red-Clad Guard overseeing their match already had his hand on his holster, itching to pull the trigger.
"Wait, wait! I still have one left!" Gi-hun shouted desperately, holding up his last marble.
The Guard didn't lower his hand. His eyes said everything: What difference does it make? You're as good as dead. Hurry up and finish so I can clock out and eat my damn bento. You think only you players are under pressure? We killers are, too. You fight for ₩45.6 billion; I get ₩20,000 a day and a bullet in the head if I slip up.
Gi-hun forced a smile and said, "I guess… even."
001 opened his trembling hand—three marbles.
Gi-hun's heart sank. I'm finished.
The Guard's finger tightened on the trigger—
—until 001 suddenly tilted his head. "What did you say again?"
"Huh?" Gi-hun blinked. Then it clicked—001's memory had slipped again. Desperation overtook guilt.
"I said… odd."
001 chuckled softly. "Ah, then I lost."
He handed a marble to Seong Gi-hun.
Elsewhere, Kang Sae-byeok and the Math Teacher were playing a marble throwing game.
They took turns tossing marbles toward a wall—ten each. Whoever's marble stopped closest to the wall would win.
They weren't close; neither held back.
Finally, a gunshot echoed.
"Player 62, eliminated."
Meanwhile, Cho Sang-woo and Ali were also playing the guessing game. Sang-woo had been reduced to one marble and was losing control.
He grabbed Ali by the collar, his voice trembling with rage. "You cheated, didn't you? How the hell do you keep winning?!"
A Red-Clad Guard instantly pressed a pistol to Sang-woo's temple.
Sang-woo froze, then slowly released Ali. His expression twisted from fury to pitiful desperation. He dropped to his knees.
"Ali… please. I don't want to die. My mother's waiting for me back home. If I die, she dies too."
Ali looked torn. "I'm sorry, brother. I have family too."
Sang-woo's voice softened, manipulative. "Ali, you only made it this far because of me. Remember the tug-of-war? We survived because of my plan. We stood guard together. We agreed we'd both get out alive, didn't we? So please, just trust me one more time."
Ali hesitated. "Then… what do you plan to do?"
From the control room, the Front Man watched the feed silently.
Don't tell me Player 218 also figured out a loophole like Player 250… but can he even tell which marbles are which anymore?
Back in the dormitory, Kai sneezed suddenly.
"Ah-choo! Damn. Feels like someone's cursing me."
Ji-yeong handed him a tissue.
"Where'd you even get this?" Kai asked.
"I grabbed it off the Guards' dining table when they were handing out bentos yesterday," she said casually.
Kai grinned. "Smart."
Back in the courtyard, 001's memory lapses grew worse.
Each time he forgot what Gi-hun guessed, Gi-hun adjusted his answer and took advantage. Before long, he'd won nineteen marbles.
Just as he was about to take the final one, 001 stood shakily and wandered away. Gi-hun panicked and ran after him.
Sang-woo kept up his performance in front of Ali.
"Think about it," he said calmly. "There'll be some pairs who can't decide a winner. The rules say thirty minutes, right? But it's not guaranteed anyone will take all the marbles in time. Back and forth, winning and losing… it's possible no one finishes. What happens then? Eliminate both? That's unfair."
Ali nodded slightly. "Right…"
Sang-woo leaned closer, voice smooth and convincing. "So then, they'll merge those leftover pairs. The two of us can combine our marbles and face others as a team. We can both survive."
The Front Man chuckled coldly as he watched.
"The rules clearly say: if you don't win within thirty minutes, you lose. Nothing complicated about that. I overestimated Player 218."
Sang-woo continued, "To prepare, we need to know which groups are still undecided. Go check the alley opposite—see if there are young players or old ones left. I'll scout the other side."
Ali frowned. "Age matters?"
"Yes. Go," Sang-woo insisted. "And listen—time's short. It's dangerous to carry your marbles around. Other players might attack you. Give me your bag; I'll keep it safe."
Without hesitation, Ali handed over his bag.
Sang-woo tore a piece from his shirt, fashioned a sling, and tucked the bag securely under his jacket. "There. Much safer. Meet me here in three minutes. I'll tell you the plan then."
Ali nodded, smiling with relief. "Okay."
He felt the weight of the marbles and heard the clinking sound—no reason to doubt.
After Ali left, Sang-woo slowly pulled the real bag of marbles from inside his jacket, poured his single marble into it, and handed it to the Red-Clad Guard.
"According to your rules," he said coldly, "as long as there's no violence, whoever wins all their opponent's marbles passes. I didn't use any violence."
The Guard took the bag silently and motioned for him to leave.
As Sang-woo walked away, the Guard muttered under his breath behind the mask:
"Ptooey. Scum. If the rules didn't forbid it, I'd shoot you myself."