Honestly, the Squid Game police subplot is the one thing everyone argues about when they finish the show. You know the vibe. While Gi-hun is out there fighting for his life in a giant game of Red Light, Green Light, we’re following Officer Hwang Jun-ho as he sneaks around a high-tech island like he’s in a Metal Gear Solid speedrun. It’s tense. It’s gritty. But let’s be real: it left us with more questions than answers.
Jun-ho isn't just some random cop. He's the emotional tether to the "outside" world, the guy trying to prove that hundreds of people don't just vanish into thin air without someone noticing.
The Mystery of Officer Hwang Jun-ho
The Squid Game police presence is basically personified by Jun-ho, played by the incredibly talented Wi Ha-joon. He enters the story not because he’s on an official mission, but because he’s looking for his missing brother. That’s a key distinction. The Korean National Police Agency isn't actually investigating the games at first. They think Gi-hun is a total lunatic when he shows up at the station in Episode 2 babbling about giant dolls and masked men.
Think about that for a second.
The police department’s reaction is actually pretty realistic for a cynical urban setting. If a guy who looks like he’s been living in a dumpster walks into a precinct claiming he was playing deadly children's games for billions of won, you’re probably going to laugh him out of the building. Only Jun-ho, who finds a specific calling card in his brother’s apartment, takes the bait. This starts a stealth mission that dominates the middle act of the series.
He manages to infiltrate the island by killing a staff member (a "Circle") and stealing his jumpsuit. From there, we see the inner workings of the organization through his eyes. This is where the Squid Game police angle gets fascinating. He isn't just looking for his brother; he’s documenting evidence. He takes photos. He records video. He finds the archives.
That Brutal Cliffhanger on the Rocks
Everyone remembers the moment on the cliff. Jun-ho is cornered. He’s out of ammo. He’s facing the Front Man. And then, the reveal: the Front Man is Hwang In-ho, the very brother Jun-ho was trying to save.
👉 See also: Kate Moss Family Guy: What Most People Get Wrong About That Cutaway
It’s a gut-punch.
The Squid Game police officer gets shot by his own brother and falls off a cliff into the dark ocean. In the world of K-dramas, if you don't see a funeral, the character is usually still breathing. Director Hwang Dong-hyuk has since confirmed that Jun-ho’s story isn't over. This is massive because it means the police angle—the "law and order" element of the show—will likely be the primary antagonist to the games in the upcoming second season.
There’s a deep irony here. In-ho was a winner of the games years prior. He was a cop himself once. The show subtly suggests that the transition from a police officer (someone who enforces the law) to the Front Man (someone who enforces the "rules" of the game) isn't as big a leap as we’d like to think. Both systems are about control, hierarchy, and punishment.
Why the Police Failed Gi-hun
One of the most frustrating parts of the first season is the sheer incompetence or indifference of the local authorities. When Gi-hun tries to report the games, the Squid Game police officers literally mock him. They represent a systemic failure. The show is a critique of capitalism, sure, but it’s also a critique of the institutions that are supposed to protect the vulnerable.
The games thrive because the police aren't looking.
- The victims are "expendable." They are people with massive debts, no social standing, and often no families to report them missing.
- The organization has deep pockets. We see hints that the VIPs have influence that likely reaches into the highest levels of government.
- The island is a literal blind spot. It exists outside of jurisdiction, physically and legally.
Jun-ho was the outlier. He was the only one who cared because the tragedy was personal.
✨ Don't miss: Blink-182 Mark Hoppus: What Most People Get Wrong About His 2026 Comeback
Real-World Context: Policing in South Korea
To understand the Squid Game police dynamic, you have to look at how law enforcement is viewed in South Korea. There’s a long history of tension between the public and the police, dating back to the country’s era of military dictatorship. While modern Korean police are generally respected, there is a recurring theme in Korean media—think movies like The Chaser or Memories of Murder—where the police are depicted as being bogged down by bureaucracy or simply outmatched by wealthy criminals.
In Squid Game, the police aren't necessarily "evil" (except for the Front Man, obviously). They are just part of a machine that doesn't prioritize the poor. When Jun-ho sends those files from the island, the signal is weak. We don't even know if the data actually reached his superiors. That ambiguity is a deliberate choice by the writers to show how fragile the "truth" is when it’s up against a massive, wealthy entity.
What Season 2 Means for the Police Plotline
We know Gi-hun is coming back, and he’s not coming back to play. He’s coming back for revenge. But he can't do it alone. The most logical path for the story is a team-up between Gi-hun and a (likely scarred and very angry) Jun-ho.
If the Squid Game police element expands in Season 2, we might see:
- Internal Corruption: Exploring whether other officers were paid off to ignore the disappearances.
- A Rogue Mission: Jun-ho operating outside the law because he knows he can't trust the precinct.
- The Brother Dynamic: A psychological showdown between two brothers who both wore the badge but ended up on opposite sides of a deadly game.
The stakes are higher now. In Season 1, the police were a nuisance to the game organizers. In Season 2, they represent a legitimate threat to the entire operation. If Jun-ho survived that fall, he is the only living person with photographic evidence of the VIPs and the facility’s layout.
The Actionable Truth About the Show’s Logic
If you’re re-watching the series or prepping for the new episodes, pay close attention to the dates in the ledgers Jun-ho finds. The games have been running for decades. This implies a massive, sustained failure of global policing. The Squid Game police narrative tells us that the "system" isn't going to save the players.
🔗 Read more: Why Grand Funk’s Bad Time is Secretly the Best Pop Song of the 1970s
The only way to win is to break the game itself.
Next time you watch, look at the background of the police station scenes in the early episodes. You’ll see a map of Seoul littered with missing person posters. Most people miss that. It’s a subtle nod from the director that the police know people are disappearing—they just aren't connecting the dots, or they're choosing not to.
How to Track the Story Moving Forward
To stay ahead of the curve on the Squid Game police arc, you should keep an eye on the official Netflix teasers specifically focusing on Wi Ha-joon. His return has been the worst-kept secret in the industry, and his character’s evolution from a "by the book" cop to a hardened survivor is going to be the backbone of the show’s investigative side.
- Watch the "Man in the Mask" trailers carefully.
- Re-read the file names in the archive scene from Episode 5.
- Look for clues regarding the "1999" games, which is when Jun-ho's brother allegedly won.
The mystery isn't just about who runs the games, but why the people meant to stop them let it happen for so long.
Actionable Insights for Fans:
If you're analyzing the series for clues, focus on the "failed transmission" scene. In many survival thrillers, the "sent" status of a message determines the plot of the sequel. Check the UI of Jun-ho's phone in the final moments; the lack of a "delivered" receipt is the strongest indicator that Season 2 will involve a desperate scramble to get that evidence to the right hands.
Don't expect a standard police procedural. Expect a story about what happens when the law fails and individuals have to take justice into their own hands. The Squid Game police storyline is far from over; it’s just moving into a much darker phase.