Why Did the Old Man Let Him Win in Squid Game?

As a hardcore fan and avid gamer, I was transfixed by Netflix‘s Squid Game and its shocking twists. In the viral battle royale death match series, the reveal that elderly Player 001, Oh Il-nam, is secretly the games‘ all-powerful creator who casually lets hero Gi-hun win is a killer finishing move. After analyzing the clues, gameplay mechanics and complex morality around letting his potential son triumph, it‘s clear that bored billionaire and puppet master Il-nam was rigging the game from the start.

Il-nam Already Knew He Would Survive as Creator of the Deadly Tournament

On the surface, Squid Game‘s premise pulls you in – hundreds of desperate contestants playing lethal versions of childhood games for a ₩45.6 billion prize. But the reveal that frail Il-nam has secretly masterminded the entire tournament as an entertainment venture for his ultra-wealthy VIP peers flips everything on its head. As the games‘ god-like architect, he designed the competition and gameplay structure from behind the scenes to provide thrills for the 1% without actually risking his own life:

"I‘m very wealthy. I have more money than I can ever spend. But why do I keep wanting more? It‘s meaningless. I was so bored out there. Here I feel alive again for the first time in a long time." - Oh Il-nam, Squid Game Episode 9

With unlimited power and no fear of consequences, participation gave blasé billionaire Il-nam the shot of adrenaline he craved. While trusting sidekick Front Man ensured the game‘s smooth operation, as overseer Il-nam could tweak the rules as needed to guarantee his own survival. For Il-nam, rigging his victory through letting Gi-hun win was simple self-preservation.

Is Il-nam Actually Gi-hun‘s Long Lost Father?

Eagle-eyed fans first speculated that Il-nam was Gi-hun‘s estranged father based on their bond despite only meeting in the games. Their similarities, special treatment of Gi-hun and Il-nam dropping out to save him cemented the clues that Player 001 was related to the hero by blood. As his illegitimate dad, Il-nam would have ultimate motivation to shield his son from harm:

"Sir, that man is my gganbu" - Gi-hun speaking about Il-nam, Squid Game Episode 6

"Gganbu is a word used in gangs and prisons to refer to someone you trust with your life."

In round 6‘s marble game where pairs play against each other until one dies, Gi-hun hesitated playing with dementia-ridden Il-nam until reminded "the game has already started" and "the game‘s the game." But broken-down Il-nam shockingly beats desperate Gi-hun before granting mercy. By quitting to let his son progress in his own tournament, this parental sacrifice then makes complete sense.

Il-nam is Manipulating Players as Part of His Staged Games…with Fatal Consequences

Il-nam‘s orchestrated gameplay is about more than just surviving himself or protecting Gi-hun though. As the sadistic mastermind, he delights in toying with desperate contestants‘ lives based on psychological evaluations:

"I created the games myself. All the games come from fond childhood memories." - Il-nam

By leveraging these profiles to deliberately exploit players‘ weaknesses across games with tweaked rules, the sociopathic puppeteer toys with them for entertainment perversely reminiscent of Will Wonka:

"Welcome to the Chocolate Factory. My chocolate factory. I built it. Please enjoy yourselves. Go anywhere, do anything. I only ask that you don‘t spoil your appetite and overindulge. Doesn‘t that sound reasonable?" 

However Il-nam callously disregards that his games designed for thrills have grave consequences. Over their duration he watches many contestants who bonded as a community turn on each other in manipulated scenarios where elimination means brutal death:

"I‘m not the one who made them kill each other, am I?"

By lecturing Gi-hun in the end that "the game revealed your true nature, animal instinct pushed you to survive", Il-nam twists responsibility for the carnage caused by conditions he architected onto his traumatized human guinea pigs.

Data Behind Squid Game‘s Deadly Tournament

While the full picture of those controlling Squid Game stays strategically mysterious, the orchestrated tournament‘s sheer scale is unveiled through tense details:

With massive financing from privileged one percenters wagering on vulnerable contestants slaughtering each other for cash, this shocking data makes the orchestration needed clear. As the sociopathic face of violent organized crime, Il-nam is the cancer enabling these conditions from the shadows for sadistic entertainment in a fractured system where the impoverished masses suffer systemic oppression that ultimately fuels them to compete at this deadly extreme.

Il-nam Represents Twisted Morality of Privilege and Capitalism Run Amok

On his death bed, manipulator Il-nam admits to Gi-hun that his driving motivation as the game‘s inventor was simple pursuit of addictive dopamine highs through excitement and significance his billions stopped providing. But in stroking his own ego through playing god, he unleashes real suffering onto financially stranded players desperate enough to risk death for trivial cash deposits or insurance payouts to support families.

This complex antagonist is the embodiment of cancerous late-stage capitalism allowing the ultra-wealthy freedom to exploit the vulnerable without accountability. Like drone pilots addressing lethal battles behind screens as sterile play, or the Stanford Prison Experiment‘s revelation that ordinary people embrace abuse when given unchecked power over others, Il-nam represents the system calcifying inequality through moral detachment.

By leveraging privilege to numb his boredom through staged barbarism stripped of consequences, his tragic masterpiece chronicles the cost of corruption corroding human dignity. Only Gi-hun retains defiant hope.

"I live in a world that values money over life...I just didn‘t want to lose at marbles. I‘m so sorry. I condemn this world we live in." 
- Gi-hun

In an increasingly winner-take-all economy where wealth concentration perverts justice, Il-nam chillingly personifies morally bankrupt excess triumphant only when empathy dies. By playing puppet master instead of addressing real problems facing society, bored billionaires bring the nightmares of social stratification to life asoth entertainment while numbing themselves to collateral pain of those struggling.

Final Move: Il-nam Lets Gi-hun Win, But What is His Endgame?

Squid Game‘s sinister twist that Oh Il-nam secretly masterminded the games the entire time while posing as a vulnerable player leaves fans to wonder – what was letting Gi-hun win really about? This rich architect of exploitation lets his "gganbu" triumph in marbles and escape the tournament after following his progression with intense interest hinted to be fatherly.

Surely as creator in absolute control, this seemingly sentimental move allowing his son to claim the ₩45.6 billion prize could be his climactic checkmate granting deeper meaning to Gi-hun through twisted validation. But how will newly radicalized Gi-hun navigate the repercussions of being crowned winner under such bloodstained conditions? I‘ll be on the edge of my seat as ever unfolding secrets around Il-nam‘s true endgame for his progeny keep me theorizing and dissecting clues about this epic masterpiece.

Squid Game with its ripped-from-the-headlines critique pitting 99% players in a battle royale against detached ruling class VIPs pulls no punches. This thriller brilliantly gamifies urgent real world struggles by refracting the horrors of late-stage capitalism through character-driven drama brimming with ethical complexity. As the finale‘s big boss level reveals, behind every game exists a designer – and when power systems are fatally flawed, one must continue interrogating the morality of those at the top benefitting from orchestrated exploitation.