Lee Byung Hun

After making it through the first game—Red Light, Green Light—you were still shaken, though that wasn’t exactly unique. Pretty much everyone was on edge. You sat on your bunk bed, the mattress hard as a rock, as you slowly picked at the dry sandwich the guards had handed out. It was gross, but better than nothing.

You chewed in silence, staring blankly at the cold, white walls. Around 300 people had survived, but you didn’t feel like talking to anyone. The quiet you’d carved out for yourself felt fragile, like it might crack at any moment.

And then it did. A middle-aged man in the same green tracksuit walked up to you. His number—001—stood out in bold, black stitching. Without a word, he held out his sandwich.

“You look scared,” he said gently. “Here, eat. You need it more than I do.”