The Prison Break Begins (2)

The brief recess came to an end, marking the start of the grand prison break operation.

Just like before, our escape party huddled close in the cafeteria storage room. We split into two teams to execute the plan: Team One, Kiara and me; Team Two, Karen and Brun. While Team Two drew aggro, Team One would clear the path. In the meantime, we would all regroup and ransack the Warden's office in one clean sweep. It was a simple yet effective plan. After all, we had a genius wizard on our side.

"Let's move, Ian."

"Right behind you."

Slipping out of the cafeteria, we set off toward the watchtower where the Warden's quarters were located.

Trust Kiara versus trust the Warden. I had chosen the former.

After turning it over in my head, it was hands down the best call. I hadn't taken the Warden's route because information on him was critically lacking—far worse than with Kiara. At the very least, I knew this barbarian big sis's ultimate goal was busting out of here. On top of that, she had already unloaded a slice of her shocking backstory, and I had already bumped our Bond Level up to 2. Short as our time together had been, I had a decent grasp of Kiara's personality. Her actions were predictable.

On the other hand, I knew practically nothing about the Warden. Aside from him being an emotionally unstable psycho with anger issues? The information gap was just too vast. If I wanted to recruit him as a companion, I would have to raise his Bond Level to 3 while still being a mere inmate, and frankly, that didn't sound remotely easy. With Kiara, we had been dragged in as fellow prisoners, giving us a sense of shared misery; with the Warden, there was none of that. We stood on polar opposite sides, making it infinitely harder.

Even setting all those reasons aside, there was one decisive reason I had to stick with Kiara.

'The Warden's secret backer is bad news.'

Building infrastructure like this on an isolated island? Inferring from the glimpse of the neon cityscape I had caught earlier, it had to be backed by a megacorporation at the very least. And why was a megacorp a problem? Because of the Anomalies.

In the game, that was the proper noun for special monsters originating from the Labyrinth. According to Kiara, they were frequently spotted outside the cities. But what put me on high alert right now were the very bastions of misery that had given me the biggest headaches across hundreds of playthroughs: the Anomalies whose hobby was blending into high society and pulling the strings of human civilization. Though they varied individually, their upper ceiling reached all the way to Special-Grade. To make matters worse, I had a specific penalty attached to them.

I knew from bitter experience that having a 'Favorable' status with those bastards was never a good thing. If I got tangled up with the Warden, I would end up coming face-to-face with them at least once.

'Just imagining it gives me the creeps.'

That, I had to avoid at all costs.

"Ian, get ready. It's getting loud outside."

"Ah, yes ma'am."

Following along right at Kiara's heels, we reached the watchtower entrance before I knew it. Shaking off my stray thoughts, I peered out the window. Exactly according to plan, I could see Brun and Karen pulling aggro in the distance. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Except...

'A gang brawl?'

There was quite a crowd, as if they had dragged out every single sleeping inmate in the cell blocks. Split into two swarming factions, they roared at the top of their lungs, kicking up a bloodthirsty ruckus. On the left stood Karen; on the right stood Brun. Standing at the vanguards to direct their respective mobs, the two of them suddenly slipped away in the blink of an eye.

A full-scale riot. Well, it was certainly effective.

"What is it?! What the fuck is going on?!"

"T-The inmates! It looks like a mass riot, sir!"

Thanks to the distraction, the guards stationed at the watchtower entrance dwindled to just one. Judging by the thunderous clatter of boots pouring down from the upper floors, the entrance wasn't the only post being abandoned. With this, the security had thinned out considerably.

"Hold it! What are you two doing here?"

"We ran for our lives while trying to sleep, sir. Out of nowhere, everyone just... went crazy like that."

"Tsk. Stay right there and don't move."

The moment I casually gestured toward the mob of prisoners in the yard, his suspicion vanished. Naturally, since we were both fitted with restraint collars, he knew even fifteen Kiaras couldn't take down a single guard. That was why he let his guard down.

Too bad he didn't see this coming.

'Mental Collapse.'

The lone guard at the watchtower entrance crumpled to the floor with a dull thud. He even foamed at the mouth with a bubbly shudder, proving to be an exceptionally frail fellow. I quickly extended my lifeline as well.

Pop!

"Haaah... phew."

"You have to keep doing that, right?"

"It's like having asthma. Bad things happen if I skip a hit."

Leaving the downed guard behind, we continued up the watchtower.

'Mental Collapse.'

Feeding a shot to every guard who crossed our path.

"Every time I see it, I'm amazed by how fast your spell intervals are, Ian," Kiara remarked. "It's truly a shame about your memories. The old you must have been quite the figure."

Honestly, I was curious too.

Dungeon Core supported all kinds of deep customization, and that included character backstories. Noble-born, drifter-born, knight-born—you name it. You picked a main branch, and from there you could configure orphan status, a harmonious family, childhood friends, and endless other details that made you marvel, Wait, you can even customize this? It was a certified masterpiece. However, once I started pushing Phase 10 difficulty, I got lazy and always hit random generation, and that habit had carried straight over to this run. In other words, I didn't know jack about this body's backstory.

If I had known it would come to this, I would have at least checked my birth origin. Knowing your roots makes life a whole lot easier, doesn't it?

And those weren't just cosmetic settings either. Starting as noble-born gave you high initial fame, so other nobles would actually recognize you from time to time. There were even unique background options tailored to each class, letting you flesh out how the character became a knight, how they became a wizard, and so on.

What could the Abyssal Wizard's unique background setting even be? How on earth did this guy end up an Abyssal Wizard in the first place? There had to be a dedicated backstory for this class.

"...Hmm."

Racking my brain wasn't going to give me answers.

"Ian, we're here."

Kiara's voice snapped me back to the present. Looking ahead, the defenses around the Warden's office were just as lax as expected. One scrawny-looking guard leaned crookedly against the wall, while a fat, pudgy guard was sitting flat on the floor, lounging without a care. Since we had no intention of sneaking around, the guards spotted us immediately.

"Huuuh? Who the hell are you? Who told you you could come up—"

'Mental Contamination.'

"W-What the hell?! How the fuck are you using magic—"

'Mental Collapse.'

Dispatching the guards in record time was great, but the penalty was rapidly becoming a concern. That last cast made ten.

An incessant itch scratched at a corner of my brain. I kept clawing at my scalp hoping for sweet relief, but it did nothing to soothe the sensation.

"This is seriously driving me crazy..."

I could endure the itching somehow, but the real issue was something else entirely.

"―――――."

Black shadows drifted midair. Gazing around with dull gray eyes, they were seemingly searching for something. Every time I cast a spell, more of these translucent, smoke-like apparitions materialized.

"Ian, what's wrong?"

"You can't see this?"

"Are you alright...?"

Kiara couldn't see them. It was just like how nobody else could see my grimoire. I had no idea what these things were, but I knew what they were searching for. Most likely me. One look at them made it obvious that getting caught wouldn't end well. A prompt that had flashed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before my transmigration surfaced in my memory.

Just as I had cast my eyes down to avoid the eyeball monstrosity lurking in the night sky, it was the exact same situation now. Every instinct screamed that I must never let them notice me.

Ugh, why did I have to pick this damn class?

Beside me, I felt Kiara's worried gaze boring into me.

"...Ian, are you truly okay?"

"Ah, don't worry, I'm still hanging in there. Inhale, exhale. Ahh... that's better. Let's go."

My vision spun and nausea churned in my stomach, but I could still hold it together. Still, to be perfectly honest, I was scared out of my mind, so could we hurry up and wrap this up? When I flashed her a grin, Kiara's complexion turned stark white, which was oddly comical. A mountain of muscle, yet her eyes were as wide and round as a frightened deer's.

Right then.

Patter-patter-patter.

Footsteps rushed up from the floor below.

"Whoa, what's wrong with him?"

"...Is he alright?"

Turned out it was Karen and Brun. They had finally arrived!

I waved a hand dismissively and buried my nose back into the glass vial.

"This stuff is great and all, but the side effects are brutal."

Their lukewarm, uneasy stares lingered on me for a moment. Biting her lower lip, Kiara called to me in a quiet voice.

"Ian, the Warden will be inside. Just one last time is all you need to do." With that, she shoved the Warden's office door open. "Let's move."

Inside, the Warden was attending to paperwork with a sour grimace.

"Dammit, I told you useless bastards to handle it yourselves! Can't even sort out one petty—"

'Mental Collapse.'

"Guh...! W-What the fuck! What did you just do to me...?"

Unlike before, it didn't end with a single shot. Light surged through the magic circuits across his flesh as he staggered, glaring at us with murderous fury. Had he developed a resistance? I knew the spell felt too broken. Even a rotten apple still had some bite—the Warden was a wizard in his own right, so I supposed that preserved game balance.

Chewing on the thought, I hurled another cast his way.

'Mental Collapse.'

"Ack..."

Thud.

With a few brainless clicks, we had finally made it this far. But this was truly my limit. If I cast one more spell, I felt like I was going to throw up my guts...

"Good work, Ian. Rest now."

"Whoa, his face is completely purple! Great work, Ian!"

"My thanks."

In exchange for driving myself closer to clinical psychosis, I earned three thumbs-up. Sinking into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Warden's plush armchair, I watched the next phase unfold. Now it was Karen's turn.

Kiara pointed toward an iron door situated in a corner of the office. Was that the locked door she had mentioned earlier? Its appearance was grotesque. The whole surface was molded into the terrifying visage of a lion, with protruding, three-dimensional eyes and a gaping maw. The doorknob hung right inside that wide-open jaw.

'Wait. Don't tell me...'

That grotesque iron door suddenly struck me as oddly familiar. It looked different from the game's graphics, but a nagging suspicion crept in.

"Karen, open it."

"Got it."

Karen pulled a slender lockpick from her breast pocket. A pick forged by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the nimble hands of Brun the dwarf.

True to his race, Brun was an extraordinary craftsman. Though the restraint collar had reduced him to an ordinary civilian incapable of tapping his magic circuits, the artisanal mastery ingrained in his flesh hadn't gone anywhere. He was skilled enough to fashion a steel lockpick out of whatever meager scraps he had scrounged up inside the prison. Karen the cat beastfolk was just as impressive. To match the quality of the lockpick, Karen's lockpicking proficiency was top-tier.

Click—

With the signature dexterity of a cat beastfolk, she picked the lock. Even in the game, cat beastfolk had built-in modifiers for lockpicking. Just when it seemed like a total success, however—

"Who are you? If you wish to pass, speak the password."

...The iron door spoke.

"Is this... a relic?" Kiara muttered under her breath.

You've got to be fucking kidding me... If what I was thinking was right, we were completely screwed.

"Eeeeeeek...!"

Beside me, another face had drained of all color, just like mine.

Karen, you know what this thing is, don't you?

The pale lion iron door loomed before us, blocking our path.