Crisis
“Gah…! Guek…! Hah…! Kuh…!”
A sudden assault.
I was caught while still sitting on the floor. Asmode threw her full weight behind both hands as she clamped them around my throat, and before I could even think of resisting I was slammed flat onto the ground. Just to stay alive I had no choice but to seize the wrists of the woman straddling my waist.
“You little inmate…! Hey. You gonna let go or what?”
“Kuh… keh… guek… l-let… go… kuh-hhk…! Gah!”
It was pure instinct. Because I was an inmate—precisely because I was an inmate—Asmode ordered me to stop resisting under that very pretext. Survival instinct made obedience impossible. If I released her hands now, I truly felt I would die.
Asmode’s eyes had rolled wild. The force in her grip was nothing like ordinary corporal punishment.
“Khuh…! Th-that… guek…! Ugh…!”
Life and death teetered on a knife-edge. To live, I had to endure. My breath was cut off; my neck bones felt ready to snap. I clung on through sheer will to survive, yet I could not withstand the rage-fueled weight she poured into the choke.
“Ugh…!”
Her frame was roughly the same size as mine, and that alone let me hold out a little longer—but the limit arrived almost at once. Her hands were already locked around my throat; breathing grew harder by the second and strength drained from my body. I would not last much longer. As if to prove it, my vision began to blur. The hands gripping her arms started to tremble; drool spilled from my mouth and tears welled and ran from my eyes.
I can’t… not anymore…
Air… I need air…
“Guek…………… kuh…!”
The ragged sound in my ears was about to cut out completely. Was I going to die like this? After only two days? Not because I had failed to endure, but because a guard’s hands would snuff me out so absurdly… I had never imagined it.
Something… something about this is wrong.
“Kh…! You fucking bitch!!”
A familiar voice rang out. At the same moment someone in a white prison uniform charged in and shoved Asmode’s body off me.
“Keh—hk! Haa. Haa! Haa. Haa. …Cough! Haa.”
I was alive because of that. I clutched my throat and crawled across the floor. My voice would not come; the pressure had lasted too long.
Then the one who had saved me came closer and checked on me. At the same time another inmate scooped my collapsed body into her arms and dragged me farther from Asmode.
“Guh… ugh…! You okay? Number A713… guh!”
Through the tears still blurring my sight I saw the faces of the two inmates who had just saved my life. The one who had thrown herself at Asmode was Number A691; the one holding me was Number A688.
“…!”
Both wore agonized expressions as they glared at Asmode. Even while electric shocks seared their own collars, they had sensed the danger and come to help.
“Haa…. You again? Number A691?”
“Yeah. Khuh…! You fucking bitch…. You… really… khuh!”
No. Don’t.
Asmode was already rising. Number A691 spat curses at her, doing it for my sake. Honestly, the gratitude was almost enough to move me—but worry came first. The Asmode who had been knocked down had already pulled the switch back out of her pocket.
“Ha. You two… no. Every last inmate here is the problem. Looks like these bitches don’t know their place. Time I reminded them.”
Switch in hand. The instant they saw it, Number A691 and several others lunged at her. The damage was already done; to turn the situation in any better direction they first had to neutralize the absolute power she held.
“Kh! Fuck… if we can just get that away from her…!”
“Too late.”
“Kuhhk!”
“Guhhh!!”
“Th… that… guhhh!”
But just as Asmode had said, our movements were slower than the flick of her finger. They had to be. The moment she casually pressed the button, every one of us—including me—clutched our throats and convulsed.
“Guek… gah!”
A constriction far worse than her bare hands. The collar’s pressure crushed the sides of my larynx and sealed the airway completely. She must have cranked the collar to maximum. On top of that the electric shocks hit, and the stimulation spores began to thrash wildly.
“Guek!! Gah!! Ah… ah…! Kuaa…!! Aaaah!”
“Grrk… ugh…!! Keugh!”
“Kuh! Augh… uuugh…! Guhhh!”
Every inmate collapsed onto the training-room floor, shuddering. I felt certain I was going to die. For real this time. I was really going to die.
“Ha. Seriously. I was already pissed that someone who looks so much like Number A479 showed up…. In a single day you steal Leviathan’s first time… and now you hand me this kind of humiliation?”
What… what the hell is she talking about. What did I even do…
“Guek…! Ugh!”
I could not breathe. I could not even blink. Asmode continued her venomous monologue while looking down at me, and at the same time she brought the whip she held crashing down across my body. The places she struck burned and hurt, yet under the terror of a sealed throat that pain ranked second. Still clutching my neck, I rolled across the floor, craving air that would not come. The other inmates were in the same state. Everyone was in danger. Some had already reached their limit; the sharp reek of urine began to spread through the training room.
“At the very least, you die today.”
With those chilling words and the click of her heels, Asmode approached. She planted her shoe on my head.
“Guhhh!! Ugh!”
Pressure so fierce it felt as if my eyeballs would pop. The full weight she drove down seemed ready to crush my skull. Die. This is real death. Her pointed toe felt as though it would crack bone and reach brain; the pointed tip only sharpened the terror. It really seemed about to happen.
“Hhk.”
The brink of death. My head felt as if it were being flattened; blood vessels must have burst in my eyes, because the world turned red. Die. I’m really going to die. Someone. Someone please save me.
“Sa…ve…… kuh…!”
I wanted to scream for help. Number A691, who had already sensed the danger, was looking at me. Her face was full of pity. She wanted to help, yet the overwhelming pain she herself could not endure left her helpless; even that expression of hers somehow felt heartbreaking.
I never meant to die like this………….
And then—
“Cough…! Haa! Haa! Ugh…!”
In an instant the collar that had been strangling me released. Air rushed down my throat and eased the raw burn in my lungs; the writhing of the stimulation spores stopped cold. Looking around, I saw every inmate in the same condition; one by one they began to push themselves up from the floor.
“…Wh-what?”
The most startled of all was Asmode. So this was not her mercy. The answer came from an unexpected direction.
“That’s enough. All inmates, gather by cell number and sit.”
The training-room door opened. A middle-aged man clapped once, drawing every eye, then issued the order. I postponed any judgment of who he was and simply obeyed. Behind the tall figure in a crisp guard uniform stood the officers in charge of each cell.
“I’ll permit speech, so look after any fellow inmates who have fainted or collapsed. Lucifer, Marmon, Leviathan—you three first. Find your own inmates, take roll, and proceed with the afternoon schedule.”
“Yes, sir. Understood, Warden.”
The man they called Warden. Only then did I grasp his identity. Through Eunbi, with whom I had once exchanged messages, I had learned that Prison Island was a single penitentiary run by guards under a warden. That made this man the highest authority on the island. Whether the inmates knew it or not, they had to obey.
“Number A713. You okay?”
“Yeah… I’m okay, Number A522. And… thank you, Number A691. You saved my life.”
“Don’t mention it. I just… that bi—no, Asmode was treating you way too roughly and I didn’t like it. Hoo… Still, the Warden, huh…”
“I’m sorry, Number A713. I was right nearby…”
“No. If anything I’m the one who’s sorrier—because of me everyone ended up like this…”
“Hey. How is any of this your fault?”
Fortunately every inmate from our cell was unharmed. From Number A691 who had saved me, to Number A522 and Number A711—kind-hearted women all—they crowded around me first.
“Everyone’s here, I see.”
Last of all came the master of our cell. Leviathan approached.
“Enough chatter. Everyone move to my office for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
He ordered us to his room. Number A522 rose first; the rest of us followed and walked slowly out of the training room. Excluding the cells that had never come to the training room at all, we were the first to leave.
“….”
Leaving the storm that had raged in the training room behind, I glanced back toward Asmode. The Warden was speaking with her alone. I could not hear the words, yet I hoped he was reprimanding her. The rampaging Asmode. She would surely be punished. Not at the level of an inmate’s punishment, of course, but she had endangered us; I sincerely hoped a fitting penalty would fall on her.
Led by Number A522 we entered Leviathan’s guard office. Only a few minutes later Leviathan himself followed us in. He let out a long sigh and sank into the chair. I did not know what the sigh meant, yet at his gesture we knelt at his feet. Guard and inmate—the difference in station was made stark by the difference in eye level.
The first thing Leviathan did was shatter my expectations.
“Number A713.”
“Yes.”
“The other inmates already know this more or less, but you’ve only been here two days, so you probably don’t. I’ll tell you in advance.”
“…Yes.”
What was he about to say? The way he tapped the desk with his index finger made me newly afraid of whatever words would follow. His tone already sounded like a warning. Sure enough, the story that left his mouth was something hard to accept.
“Asmode-nim will not be punished for what just happened.”
“…What?”
Even without permission to speak, the sheer absurdity made me blurt the question. I realized the mistake a second later and clamped both hands over my mouth, but the words could not be taken back. Fortunately Leviathan noticed yet chose not to seize on it. Instead, as if to show how perfectly timed his explanation was, he gave a forgiving little wave of the hand and continued.
“I confirmed through the control-room alarm that Asmode-nim tried to kill you. I also confirmed every rough handling of the other inmates.”
“…Then why?”
“Hmm. I haven’t given you permission to speak, yet you keep trying?”
“Hap…!”
“I’ll let it slide this far. Anyway… the explanation is simple.”
“….”
Leviathan drew the moment out. He stopped mid-sentence, rose, and walked over to Number A522. From his pocket he took a switch, aimed it at her, and pressed the button.
“Guh!! Kuh…!”
Number A522 suddenly clutched her throat and collapsed. Her face twisted in agony; she seemed unable to breathe as she rolled on the floor, gripping her neck. She looked tormented. She looked in pain. And… it was exactly the same treatment Asmode had given us earlier. The only difference was—
“Kuhhk…! Haa. Haa. Haa.”
—that it did not last long. Leviathan watched her thrash for a few seconds, then worked the switch again and released her. As he did, he spoke.
“Killing bitches like you who have already renounced your human rights is not a crime.”
“…!”
“Even if you actually die, we’ll cover it up by whatever convenient means. Why? Think we can’t? No one outside even knows you’re here—except the company, Waltz Production, and us guards.”
He was not wrong. True or not, I no longer possessed any of society’s safety nets. Innate human rights? Natural rights? People claim all sorts of rights for human beings and then bundle them under the single word “human rights.” We were the ones who had thrown those crucial rights away.
“Remember this. You who voluntarily abandoned your human rights have no rights left to assert here. When you’re hit, you take it. When you’re fucked, you take it. When your throat is squeezed, you suffer. That is the only thing you are allowed to do. A guard’s order is absolute in this place.”
“….”
As he said, the documents might call it “deprivation,” yet in reality we who had surrendered our human rights with our own hands possessed no right of resistance. Even if death came, that fact would not change. I had already heard the explanation, steeled myself… and still walked in knowing all of it. And even if society someday noticed my disappearance, the moment I had requested absence management through Waltz Production meant it would only come to light far in the future. By then there would be more than enough time to conceal my death, would there not? Of course, if forensic science and the police force put in the effort they might eventually find me. But by then I would already be…
A horrible image flooded my mind. Leviathan had driven the point home for me and, at the same time, issued a warning to every other inmate present.
“In that sense, Number A691.”
“…Yes.”
Leaving me with my head bowed under the shock of his words, Leviathan turned to another inmate.
“You committed a crime today. Correct?”
“…Yes. That’s correct.”
“Today’s feedback will begin with you. I will inform all of you of the results of the training. So…”
The spark spread; Leviathan’s attention shifted. He rechecked the earlier incident on his terminal, then rose and issued a new order. The command delivered under the name of feedback was—
“First go to the back and bring the Type-B frame.”
“…Yes.”
—about a new punishment.