Released from Prison
My hands and feet trembled uncontrollably. No way... Was it really possible that Jihyeok had taken drugs? I didn't want to believe it, but his behavior was exactly like someone high on something. The kind that dramatically extended the duration of the effects while rapidly destroying the body from the inside. It had to be a modified form of cocaine. I'd never tried it myself, but the news had covered it enough for me to recognize the signs.
The Doctor barely suppressed her pounding heart as she drew closer to Jihyeok. She took his brightly smiling face in both hands and examined his nostrils and the skin above his upper lip with clinical precision.
"What are you doing?" Jihyeok asked, his voice innocently cheerful.
"Stay still," The Doctor replied, her tone sinking.
"Okay."
Jihyeok immediately started humming a little tune. Biting her lip, The Doctor lifted his eyelids one after the other, then questioned him like a scolding parent.
"Jihyeok, did you sniff white powder up your nose?"
"Yeah. It made me feel really good."
"Since when?"
"Two days ago... after you left. But I'm cold... Can we turn the heater on?"
In the muggy heat of Florida, he was complaining about being cold. He was clearly not in his right mind. Still, his only slightly elevated tension and relatively docile behavior suggested it had been some time since he'd taken it. The Doctor decided that was at least fortunate. If it had started two days ago, he'd abused it but likely hadn't developed a full dependency yet. Drugs were notoriously difficult to escape once they took hold. But with the lab's medical equipment, the situation changed. They could put Jihyeok into the machine and normalize the dopamine levels in his brain.
The only problem was that he'd already tasted the pleasure... Still, with Jihyeok's willpower, careful monitoring from the side should help him shake it off quickly.
"Jihyeok."
"Yeah?"
"Who gave it to you? It wasn't that friend, was it?"
"It was. He's a really good person."
The Doctor squeezed her eyes shut. She'd actually felt grateful to that criminal bastard. Cancel that.
"Did that friend give you anything else?"
"Um..."
Jihyeok hesitated. Certain he was hiding something, The Doctor spoke in the gentlest voice she could manage.
"It's okay. I won't get angry."
"You promise?"
"I promise. I absolutely won't get angry."
"He said an injection would feel good, so I tried it..."
"An injection!?"
Her mind snapping back into focus, The Doctor yanked up the sleeve of Jihyeok's prison uniform. Three dark brown marks stood out on the crook of his right arm. The sight made her head spin; she pressed a hand to her forehead.
Injecting directly into the vein produced far stronger effects than nasal inhalation. The addictiveness was on another level. There was a reason for the underground saying that once the needle went in, you were finished.
"Ah..."
Seeing her stagger, Jihyeok asked worriedly, "Sis, are you okay?"
She felt like her head might explode, but she had to hold it together. Jihyeok had simply fallen for the devil's temptation. None of this was his fault. The Doctor took a deep breath, forcing herself to regain composure.
"I'm fine... I'm okay..."
"Are you sick? Should I ask them to send you to the hospital? The doctor in the infirmary here is supposed to be famous."
The nonsense pouring out of his mouth made her want to scream. Somehow suppressing her rising fury, The Doctor continued her questions.
"Jihyeok, does the correctional officer know about this? Who gave you the syringe?"
"He got it from the guard. Said he bought it for a lot of money. Giving something that expensive to me... He's a really good friend, right?"
"....."
The Doctor's whole body shook. The sight of Jihyeok staring up at her with that dazed, blissful expression filled her with pity. And then with rage. Rage at the inmate who had done this to him, and at the guard. They were all in it together. No—the guard was worse than the criminals. For something like this to happen inside a state prison... Just how deeply corrupt was this place? These were human garbage that should not exist, using their power to extort others. The mere thought of sharing the same air with them brought the same nausea she felt when thinking about those human experimenters in Syria.
"Jihyeok..."
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to get you out of here soon, so until then, you absolutely cannot do that again. Understand?"
"That?"
"I'm telling you never to touch the white powder or the syringe again."
"Hmm..."
"You promised, remember?"
"....."
Jihyeok avoided her eyes. It was obvious he still wanted more. The Doctor stamped her foot impatiently.
"Promise me. Right now."
"Okay... I promise."
"You have to keep it. I trust you."
"I know..."
His uncertain answer left The Doctor uneasy, but she chose to believe him. She pulled his head tightly against her chest.
I want to tell the guard to deal with that inmate immediately, but there's no one here I can trust. I'm so furious I could explode, but if I say the wrong thing, Jihyeok might suffer retaliation. Right now I need to focus on getting him out. I have to endure it.
She had been complacent. Jihyeok was someone who should never have been in this garbage pit...
Those bastards...
"Alex! Hey!"
A black inmate snapped his fingers in front of my face. His gang members lined up behind him. They hadn't come to attack me—they were here for their fix. I was currently the drug king of Section A. Ever since my transfer from Section H, I'd been spreading product around, and the position had come naturally. It was an empty title, though.
Still, who the hell told him to call me like that? How annoying. I set down my snack and rose slowly from the table.
"What do you need?"
The black inmate grinned, showing his teeth.
"Cocaine."
Look at this yellow-toothed piece of shit. Just my luck. No one dared touch me these days. Not because I'd killed a few as an example. Not because I'd shown I could protect myself. They left me alone because they knew I got my supply directly from the guards. Kill me, and the drugs dried up. If not for that, this place would have become a battlefield long ago.
I pulled a small plastic bag of white powder from inside my prison uniform and waved it in front of his eyes.
"This?"
"Yeah, hand it over already."
The rude bastard, mixing slang like he owned the place. I flashed my white teeth at the inmates standing behind him.
"You guys want to try killing this fucker in front of me? Do it and I'll keep you high all day. Cocaine, meth, heroin—whatever you want, I'll get it for you."
The black inmate who had snapped at me looked panicked.
"W-what...?"
But it was already too late. The inmates, tasting that old familiar rush after so long, went wild at the promise of staying high all day. One of them knocked the black inmate down and started punching. The others joined in with kicks. I climbed onto the table, using the horrible screams rising from the center of the mob as my personal soundtrack, and scattered every last bit of product I carried into the air.
The entire population of Section A swarmed in, frantically chasing the drugs.
Hierarchical competition is instinct for every living thing, humans included. They fight to claim higher positions, and when a leader falls, another rises to take their place. With that black guy finished, a new leader would emerge for the gang soon enough. I wouldn't be part of it. Even if I rotted here for ten years, I could never become the true leader of these packs. The reason was simple: race. It was only natural. When a honeybee queen dies, do they crown a bumblebee queen? Of course not. They either raise a new queen within their own hive or merge with another hive of their own kind.
Right now they behaved because I brought them incredibly sweet honey. Without it, they wouldn't tolerate a bumblebee like me. The new king would drive out the outsiders and wield power as he pleased.
Humans are so pathetic. Compared to the Magic Realm, where various races coexist and hierarchy is decided purely by strength, or the Magic Realm where loyalty is given to the Demon King without any need for money or power as intermediaries, Earth is constantly plagued by incidents. The part where they only act when there's compensation also disgusts me. Watching them only strengthened my conviction that Earth must be remade in the image of the Magic Realm as soon as possible.
I stepped down from behind the rioting inmates and approached the guards watching the spectacle from behind the iron bars at the section entrance.
"Where's Sinclair?"
"In another section. Anyway, maybe ease up on stunts like this? If the media gets hold of it..."
"Does the media give a shit about society's trash? This is a place where nobody cares if someone lives or dies. You've all been happily taking your paychecks while ignoring it until now. Suddenly worried?"
"I'm not criticizing you. Just don't let it cause problems for us."
Look at him sucking up. Tsk. These guards were the same. From the lowest grunt to the warden, they were all equally pathetic creatures. It had taken only two days—two days—to earn their trust. Of course, it was a relationship bought with money, one with an expiration date. What would have happened if I didn't have that power? They would have done everything possible to torment me.
"Just open the door."
"Where are you going?"
"Solitary. It's too noisy here to sleep."
One of the guards chuckled and opened the door without even bothering with handcuffs. Living like a king here wasn't bad at all. From The Doctor's reaction today, I'd probably be released tomorrow or the day after. This place had been a tool to shift her thinking, but... I would miss it more than I expected.
The next morning.
Thud! The sound of a baton banging on the iron door woke me. When I saw Sinclair standing there with a bright smile, I knew immediately—The Doctor had used her influence to secure my release.
I walked over to the food slot.
"Release?"
"That's right. Orders came down. I knew you'd get out eventually, but I didn't expect it to be this fast."
"Power makes anything possible. Who arranged it?"
"Well... one of your connections must have pulled some strings."
"Who issued the release order?"
"I don't know. I just follow instructions. I'll open the door, but don't cause any trouble on your way out."
He still seemed upset about me hitting him in the face with a baton before. I kept my expression neutral.
"That won't happen."
"Thanks."
I followed Sinclair to the warden's office. Normally I would have gone straight through release procedures, but the warden, worried about not receiving the rest of his money, had apparently ordered me brought to him. He was waiting with a furious expression. The moment I entered, he slammed his baton on the desk.
Bang!
"This wasn't the deal."
The warden's voice was sharp. Just as I expected. He was anxious about losing out on the money. Human greed truly knew no limits.
"Who said I wouldn't pay? Give me your phone."
The warden thrust his phone at me. I called Marcela and promised an additional five hundred thousand dollars for the warden and the other guards. Only then did his face relax into a greedy smile.
"Thank you. Same date and place as before?"
"Yes, that works. Are we done?"
"We are. It was a pleasure. A lucky charm rolling in during my final years—I'm in a great mood."
"Planning to retire?"
"Of course. Thinking of traveling overseas."
The warden pulled some documents from his desk and handed them to Sinclair. Then he looked at me.
"Take care."
Yeah. You too. After finishing the release procedures, I shed the shit-colored prison uniform and changed into civilian clothes. The same outfit I'd been wearing during the Mississippi incident. Sinclair glanced at the blood-stained shirt.
"Your blood?"
"None of your business."
"True. I was just bored."
After changing and completing the final steps, I stood at the prison entrance under Sinclair's guidance. A car waited on the shoulder of the road across the street. The Doctor was there, pacing anxiously. I waved at her broadly, then called out to Sinclair, who was holding the gate open.
"Sinclair."
"Yeah?"
"Don't come to that meeting."
"What are you talking about?"
"Exactly what I said. Don't show up when the money's being delivered."
At first he thought I was joking and tried to smile awkwardly, but my serious expression made him freeze completely. I warned the man who could only open and close his mouth in shock.
"I'll put enough money in your offshore account for you to live comfortably. Keep your mouth shut and live quietly. Don't tell anyone."
"....."
"Answer me."
"Ah, understood."
"One last thing... You should quit this job."
Sinclair's breathing grew ragged. Cold sweat trickled from beneath his cap, running down to his chin. Yes, be afraid. You should be. Satisfied, I patted his rigid arm.
"I'm going. It was fun."
If Sinclair ever told anyone what I'd said, he would disappear without a trace like the other guards. But if he kept quiet, he would live happily with his family, holding enough money to never work again. This was the extent of my mercy for keeping me company all this time. The choice was his alone.
Stepping out of the prison, I looked up at the sky pouring down blazing sunlight. Movies always showed people squinting, but that was nonsense. It just felt unpleasant. I wondered if it would rain.
I crossed the street and opened my arms toward The Doctor, who was crying her eyes out. She let out a heartbroken sob and ran straight into my embrace.
Now it was time to return to Korea and nurture the hostility this incident had planted in The Doctor. I'd make sure she discovered I'd been secretly using drugs. Time to dig at her heart until it bled.