4. I'm Not an Escaped Convict, Though (1)
From bugs to humans, every living creature has an instinct for survival.
When they're starving to death, they crave food. When they're freezing, they seek warmth. When they're burning up, they chase cool relief. That's the essence of life.
That's why my escape plan was going even smoother than I'd imagined.
I'd been gradually leaking the info I'd gotten from Mina into the camp, mixing in just enough emotional appeal, and people started coming around one by one.
It didn't take long to convince all 321 inmates in the camp to join the breakout operation—coaxing, persuading, whatever it took.
And... the cooperation of the most crucial figure.
"Mina. Your ability... it steals people's sight, right?"
"...How did you know?"
Mina stared at me with wide, surprised eyes.
"I've heard of ability users like that before, and you talked about the outside world like you'd seen it yourself."
"...Yeah."
"We need that power. Yours, plus a telepath's—combine them, and we can get revenge on these institute bastards and bust out."
Three precious, actually useful-level telepaths.
And finally... a bunch of test subjects who could fight.
To be blunt, nearly two-thirds were non-combatants, but if they used their abilities right, they'd be worth something. Even if someone's power only worked on a single finger, they could cut through iron bars with it.
"...You're more impressive than you look, mister."
"Eh. They just needed someone to take the lead."
The lead.
That was the real key.
With numbers overwhelmingly on our side—and ability users to boot—rallying them right would make sparking a revolt a piece of cake.
From the periodic recon via Mina's ability, the researchers and cleaning crews didn't outnumber the camp inmates.
The problem was the apathy. Unless you were hot-headed enough to snap, you ended up dragged off helplessly like an elephant chained up.
Even decent ability users couldn't take on cleaning crews with guns—not when they had no clue what lay beyond the camp.
Without knowing the institute's layout, escaping the camp wouldn't tell you how to actually get out.
In that sense, I was struck again by just how broken her ability was.
Steal someone's line of sight just by making eye contact, and once you had it, you could hold on from a ridiculous distance. Insanely versatile.
Especially when paired with another mental ability user. The synergy was insane.
"...My head hurts."
"Good work."
Mina, who'd been wracking her brain all day, flopped face-first onto the bed.
Right on cue, a researcher showed up. She made a tiny noise, locked eyes for a split second, and held the ability steady. No wonder she was wiped.
Today, she'd pushed the sight-steal on the researcher to its limit.
Then, a telepath shared her vision through mental link.
While that was going, she bit her finger for blood and flipped the pillow to sketch the institute's map in it.
Tomorrow: steal a guard's sight, map out his patrol route, and we'd have a rough layout.
Couldn't eavesdrop on conversations just from vision—bummer—but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers.
Vision alone gave plenty of intel.
"...You're something else. Coming up with a plan like that..."
"Gotta squeeze out whatever it takes to survive. If the setup was better, with more resources... I could've done even better."
"This is plenty impressive. You're going places."
"Just your average Joe."
"Average Joes don't step up or scheme like this."
...All thanks to original story knowledge.
I knew how the Seeker used her ability in the original, so I could think of this.
Lucky the telepaths were among the inmates too.
Did original Quaker puzzle this out the same way?
Snapping out of it, I shoved another familiar, godawful energy drink down my throat. Tasted like death, but skip it and I'd starve.
"Eh... call it luck."
"No need to be modest. You're a hell of a guy. Once we're out... your name might be on everyone's lips soon enough."
"As public enemy number one, probably."
Escaping a secret government lab? They'd scream "escaped convicts" and make a fuss.
So, seize the institute, grab supplies, and bolt to the underworld where the government couldn't touch us.
Go public if we could—really stick it to them.
Even in this shithole world, that kind of scandal would gut the higher-ups.
"In a world where might makes right, what good's the law?"
True enough.
I chuckled at the bowl hovering over my palm.
Armory located!
"Hey, hasn't the camp vibe been off lately?"
"Those vermin gonna change?"
"Still bugs me."
"Cut the chatter. Let's wrap this up quick—experiments are piling up."
"Got it, Researcher Kim Haeyoung."
The researcher and guards crossed the hall quietly, reaching the camp door.
Card key beeped; they entered like always.
The dim, stuffy air hit them. All three grimaced.
This stench gives me a headache every time.
No vents in the massive camp—reek of unwashed test subjects and filth assaulted their noses. Natural reaction.
Researcher Kim Haeyoung strode ahead without a glance. Wanted this over fast.
Guards felt the same, slacking off. They missed it.
The killing intent in the subjects' eyes.
"Number 11, 145, 269."
Finally touching that specimen.
The one the director stressed as a key sample. Young guy with striking white hair and brown skin.
Director's personal pick would finally contribute to great research—as a guinea pig.
"Out!"
Cell door clanged open.
"Hurry... aaagh!"
That instant, guards clutched their heads, staggering.
Telepathic bomb laced with raw fury.
Hatred scrambled their brains, neutralizing them. Number 11 dashed across his cell.
"Wh-what the—"
The lone guard left standing took a full-force punch and crumpled. Head hit floor, blood pooling—but that wasn't their problem.
Compared to their crimes, it was merciful.
Confirming the researcher dead, 11 stomped a guard's head with repulsion force, snatched the assault rifle.
Unfamiliar model—he'd never handled one.
But pull trigger, bullets fly. Two shots punched through the guard's skull.
All three silenced, 11 blasted the CCTV.
"Revenge time starts now."