Chapter Text
He wakes up in the middle of the night. Before Jun-ho checks his phone to see the time, he looks out the window and stares at the sky to guess the time: 10 p.m. or 3 a.m. He couldn’t tell. His body is drenched in sweat, and hair sticking to his forehead. Gross. It is summertime, but it isn’t hot enough for his body to be in this condition. He checks his phone to see what the time is: 1 a.m.
He lays back in his bed, eyes staring into the ceiling, attempting to slumber, but he can’t. The sweat on his body is overstimulating his mind. It felt so icky…
I guess this is a new morning time for him since he hasn’t been able to get the traditional 8-hour sleep required for the average adult.
He gets up out of bed. He immediately gets out of the work clothes he had accidentally fallen asleep in. Workaholic habits. He’s been losing hours of sleep to find out the mysteries of that damn island, where is it? How can he stop it? He’s already tired once. But got met by his brother; the ringleader of the atrocity.
My god, He didn’t know what was worse, finding out his brother was long gone or finding that out… probably the first option but both are just as bad in their ways… Grieving or Betrayal of his morals?
With all that information and investigation he risked his life just for all the evidence to fly off the face of the earth and the only evidence being his stories that no one believed.
Never mind that He immediately unbuttoned his shirt and rolled down his tight-fitting pants. Not suitable for sleeping but it matters now he’s finally getting out of these clothes. He leaves his room to go for a shower to wash all the salty sweat and smell of him. Yuck.
He switches the fan on to shower, He twists the nob for the cold system of the shower and a little bit on the hot, He needed a cold shower to clear his mind, His body felt like it just heating up by the minute, He can’t have a fever, maybe he had a bad dream he can’t remember? Maybe a dream of strings of historical events of his life? That might be the case. He then goes under the shower head then he swashes his body to get free from all the grotty dried sweat.
After his cold shower, the towel is tied around his waist while he’s drying his hair with another. He goes into his room to once again gaze out of the window.
He spots something unusual; he sees a delivery man on his scooter drop off mail at his residence. And only his residence, why is the mailman coming at this hour working? He cannot be getting paid enough to drop delivered at the literal start of the day, Midnight, I guess.
What could have been delivered at this time? Could have been a list of things, A bill? Nah. Not THAT Important.
He goes to pick up a dressing gown off the floor of his room, picking up anything to cover himself with rushing curiosity of what this mail could be.
He doesn’t really know why he’s over mail, but he really doesn’t have much excitement in his life, mostly his personal life. The other part is chasing a practically Ghost Island.
God, that topic brings a killer headache.
With a swift movement, Jun-Ho leaves his room and walks quietly down the stairs with his phone flashing his path ahead so he doesn’t fall or run into anything.
Jun-Ho Opens the door to go outside, he jogs toward the mailbox and then opens it to get this mystery letter.
He hasn’t checked the mailbox in ages, probably like 2 weeks. Doesn’t matter; most bills are now digital so you can pay them online, but he had stacks of it, Mail of promoting shitty lawyers of a newly leased house. This is exactly why he doesn’t care to check.
He just makes it easier to get it all out and discard the junk mail.
He then walks inside and slams the door behind him, not on purpose. The wind was feisty tonight. He then walks over into the kitchen and plops all the mail onto the counter, one by one he starts going through them making sure they are all junk mail.
Then finally he gets to the one he’s been wanting to look at. He analysed the card, It’s a black letter. Not like traditional white paper mail.
After taking a proper look at it, he shreds it open.
It’s a card. A card with the logo; Square, Triangle and circle. He knows this logo too well. He’s shaking shocked. Did his brother finally give him closure of this situation atlas?
He then flipped over the card, to see a message tailored to him.
“If you need answers to your question, would you like to participate in a game with me, Jun-Ho? ~” With a phone number attached to the message. If it was for the horse-race game shit he was disinterested in reliving the moments of what happened 2 years ago.
Shock and confusion filled his mind.
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He was having a mini panic attack, his breath went deep in worrying, should he do it? But he could die though? Is this a recruitment card for the next games?
Many questions came to his head. It didn’t feel right to do anything about this card, even discarding it would feel like a massive regret later. His head was filled with thoughts because of this letter.
Soon after he read the chilling message on it, he sees it’s a pamphlet.
He unfolds the paper to see a return phone number along with the message. Should he call it on his private phone or call it when he works tomorrow to get back up and get a return address from this card?
No. He shouldn’t He remembers the man with messy long hair with shaven facial hair who quicken into the police station to file a report like this, with a good description of this place and what it’s like but he ended up being turned away as if he’s some lunatic or mental hospital patient. He even had a card with him like the one he just received. The cops attempted to believe his story, but it ended up being some random poor woman on the other line. Can they track law enforcement calls? Probably.
Now, It doesn’t mean Jun-ho thinks the police force is useless. I mean it’s a hard story to believe if you told someone what you experienced or what you did to make it out alive. Man, that’s such a sad thing to think about. You couldn’t even get therapy from all the traumatising deaths you witnessed in front of your own 2 eyes. The therapist would be holding back a few giggles because of how unbelievable it sounds.
No, He should turn to law enforcement for this, he should do his private investigation; Where there is no judgment or second-guesses in his story and experience.
He waddles back upstairs to rest in his bed for a bit to let all this over-information sink into his mind, to come up with a strategy on how he’s going to do this with solid evidence this time. He’s the detective in this and he shouldn’t blindly go into a deadly situation without guessing what’s going to be ahead of him.
He places the pamphlet on his side table, along with his phone being put on charge getting ready to gather evidence tomorrow.