SHOCKING TRUTH REVEALED! The mastermind behind the hit show reveals a shocking truth about the masked characters. Elon Musk’s influence might surprise you!

Squid Game’s Final Season Unmasks Its Billionaire Villains—And Elon Musk Is at the Heart of It

As Netflix dropped the explosive final season of Squid Game this weekend, series creator Hwang Dong-hyuk revealed a truth as chilling as the show’s infamous Red Light, Green Light doll: Elon Musk—tech titan, space explorer, and billionaire provocateur—served as a key inspiration for the show’s masked VIPs who orchestrate the deadly games. While these villains weren’t initially modeled after anyone specific, by the time Season 3 wrapped, Hwang admits Musk’s influence had become impossible to ignore.

“Elon Musk is everywhere these days, right?” Hwang confessed in a candid post-finale interview. “He’s the head of a tech empire that nearly runs the world, and he’s also a showman.” That duality—unmatched power mixed with theatrical flair—perfectly defines Squid Game’s VIPs. After two seasons lurking in the shadows, these puppet-masters finally step into the spotlight in Season 3, with terrifying consequences.

From Spectators to Executioners: The VIPs’ Deadly Evolution

The third season, released June 27, marks a brutal turning point for the VIPs. First introduced in Season 1 as grotesquely wealthy, champagne-sipping “dirtbag millionaires,” the VIPs were content to watch from gilded balconies, gambling on human lives as if at a racetrack. By Season 3, that distance vanishes. “They take off their masks and enter the game, killing with their own hands,” Hwang explains.

This chilling transformation was no accident. Hwang says it reflects real-world trends: today’s billionaires—especially in America—are more visible, more powerful, and more brazen than ever before. “Those who control the system used to hide behind curtains, like some grand conspiracy,” he says. “Now, they step out, announcing who they support, what they control. They take off their masks and say, ‘We’re in charge.’”

Elon Musk: Billionaire, Showman, Unmasked VIP

This isn’t just fiction—it’s our reality. Elon Musk, with a net worth hovering around $412 billion, wields more wealth than the GDPs of most countries. He’s not just the CEO of Tesla or founder of SpaceX; he’s an unelected force shaping currencies, AI, and even politics. As Donald Trump’s largest campaign donor and a relentless critic of regulation, Musk embodies the very definition of a Squid Game VIP: a kingmaker who shapes economies, cultures, and lives, all while putting on a show.

In Season 3, the VIPs’ shift from passive observers to active participants is more than a plot twist—it’s a metaphor for how today’s billionaires no longer settle for influence from the shadows. They want to be seen. They want to play. They want control, even if it means getting blood on their hands.

The Billionaire Class: Richer, Bolder, More Decadent Than Ever

The numbers are staggering. In 2020, when Squid Game was first filmed, there were about 2,000 billionaires with a combined $8 trillion. By 2025, that number has soared to over 3,000, with collective wealth now exceeding $16 trillion—more than the GDP of every nation except the U.S. and China. Musk alone commands a fortune greater than the economies of Denmark, Malaysia, or Iran.

The decadence of this elite class was on full display with Jeff Bezos’s lavish $46 million Venice wedding, attended by nearly 90 private jets—an event that coincided with Squid Game’s final season premiere. It’s as if reality is writing its own dystopian script.

Squid Game: A Mirror to Our World’s Inequality

At its core, Squid Game has always been about the desperate—the debt-ridden, the marginalized, the powerless—forced to risk everything for a shot at survival, while the ultra-wealthy turn their suffering into sport. Hwang is clear: the true villains aren’t the players making impossible choices, but the billionaires funding and enjoying the spectacle.

Season 1’s twist—that Player 001, Oh Il-nam, is the game’s founder—embodied this ethos: a bored tycoon seeking entertainment in the misery of others. By Season 3, Hwang tears away the last mask, letting the VIPs act without pretense.

When Fiction Becomes Reality

Today, billionaires tweet political firestorms, manipulate markets with a single post, and shape public discourse with the flick of a switch. Musk, more than anyone, exemplifies this new breed of unmasked elite—daring the world to stop him as he bends rules and polarizes opinion with every move.

Hwang admits that while the VIPs weren’t initially modeled on real people, their resemblance to figures like Musk became undeniable. “After writing Season 3, I thought, ‘Some of the VIPs really do remind me of Elon Musk,’” he said. That resemblance now haunts the series finale.

As David Fincher prepares a U.S. remake of Squid Game, this central metaphor will only become sharper. In a world where billionaires dominate elections, fund wars of information, and elevate themselves to mythic status, the show’s warning grows ever more urgent.

The Game Isn’t Just on TV Anymore

Squid Game’s final message is clear: the real monsters aren’t the desperate who play the game, but those who build it—and profit from it. If the face behind the golden mask starts to look familiar, that’s no accident. That’s the point.