Spoiler alert: Gi-hun wins the 45.6 billion won prize. And what does he do? He spends a year depressed in a motel, eating ramen and ignoring his daughter. He looks like a ghost who won the lottery. That is the most honest part of the show. He’s traumatized, guilty, and can’t enjoy a single penny. But then he gets a haircut (finally!), dyes it red like a warning signal, and decides to sabotage the game instead of flying to America to see his kid. He turns down a hug from his daughter to fight a shadowy death cult. Is that heroic? Stupid? Both? Yes. It’s pure Gi-hun.
Every Main Character From Squid Game Ranked By Their Luck
Here’s a surprising fact you might have missed: Gi-hun is based on a real person. The director, Hwang Dong-hyuk, said he modeled Gi-hun after a friend who was a compulsive gambler. That friend once bet his entire rent on a horse and won. Then lost it all the next day. Gi-hun’s whole arc is just a wild ride of “I could stop, but I won’t.” He’s the guy who sees a cliff and decides to build a house on the edge. You can’t save him. You can only watch, laughing and crying, as he fumbles toward redemption.
So, what’s the takeaway? Seong Gi-hun is proof that you don’t need six-pack abs or a genius IQ to be a hero. You just need a broken heart, a good memory for kids’ games, and the willingness to dye your hair a color that screams, “I’m about to make terrible choices.” He’s messy. He’s human. And honestly? He’s the only guy I’d want next to me in a life-or-death game of tug-of-war—as long as he’s not the one holding the rope.
Gi-hun, you magnificent disaster. Never change. But please, for the love of all that is holy, stop gambling.
