Becoming a Prison Warden

My bank balance whispered to me.

The Han River ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is cold, and your life is already over.

"Ha. Life."

The number stamped across my smartphone screen was climbing faster than ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my heart rate. The debt my father left behind, my mother's hospital bills, and the gear I'd gotten scammed out of after swaggering around like I was somebody just because I'd Awakened.

F-rank Awakener, Kang Jinsoo.

I'd figured Awakening would flip my life around. Instead, all I got were two garbage skills: Calm and Status Condition Immunity. What I had left was a mountain of debt and a nonstop stream of threats from loan sharks.

"Three thousand dollars in interest this month alone."

Chewing on a convenience-store discard bento, I scrolled through job listings. Dungeon porter? A hundred bucks a day. Cheap for a life. Mana-stone processing plant? Fifteen hundred a month. Wouldn't even cover the interest.

That was when I found it—a deranged posting buried in a corner of a Hunter-only job board.

"……Three hundred and seventy dollars an hour?"

I was sure I'd miscounted the zeroes. Not per day—per hour. Just breathing for an eight-hour shift would net me three thousand bucks. A month of that was ninety thousand. Hold out two months and I could wipe the debt clean, buy a Benz, and take it for a drive.

"This has to be an organ-harvesting scam."

Doubt lasted three seconds. The click took a tenth of one. At this rate the loan sharks were going to harvest my kidneys anyway. I hit Apply without hesitation.

And so—the interview.

It was absurdly simple.

"Kang Jinsoo. You're F-rank?"

"Yes. My only abilities are Calm and Status Condition Immunity."

"Zero combat capability, then……"

The interviewer in the black suit looked at me with something like pity, the way you'd look at a cow being led to slaughter.

"You're hired."

"Sorry—already?"

"We're desperate. The new guy who came in yesterday quit after three hours."

"……He quit, right? He didn't die?"

"Haha. You've got a sense of humor. Sign here."

Just like that, I stamped my thumbprint on the employment contract in a daze.

Three hours later, blindfolded, I was loaded onto a helicopter and flown out over the middle of the Pacific.

"We've arrived. Please disembark."

Where the pilot pointed, a black tower jutted from the open ocean—a Class-1 classified facility that didn't exist on any map. Abyss.

"Hey, the pay really is three-seventy an hour, right?"

"As long as you're alive."

Leaving that loaded remark behind, the pilot lifted off and fled.

What was with this atmosphere?

Swallowing the unease, I stepped up to the massive steel gate.

The moment the doors opened—

WREEEEE—! WREEEEE—!

"……That's a pretty extravagant welcome party."

Sirens slammed into my eardrums. Down the corridor, armed guards came screaming toward me.

"Run! Sector One's breached!"

"The barrier's melting! Call for backup!"

"Aaaagh! My arm! It's burning!"

Their protective suits were dripping off them like candle wax. Behind them, a crimson tidal wave of flame came roaring in.

This wasn't ordinary fire. It was S-rank mana flame—the kind that evaporated concrete.

"Ah. I'm screwed."

One minute on the job and I was about to be physically terminated. I tried to run, but it was already too late. The flames swallowed me whole.

I squeezed my eyes shut on pure reflex.

Please just let it be painless.

……Huh?

"It's not hot."

I opened my eyes. Everything around me was a sea of fire, and my body was fine. My clothes were a little singed, but my skin was soft and unscathed.

"Whoa. This garbage skill actually pops off here?"

I'd thought it was F-rank trash. Turns out it was a broken skill that could shrug off even S-rank hellfire. I walked through the blaze in a daze—and at its heart, I saw her.

"Hah…… hah……"

A woman slumped on the ground, red hair a tangled mess. Instead of a prison uniform she wore a crimson dress, and even that had torn under the heat. Pale shoulders and smooth thighs flashed dangerously between the flames.

Holy hell. She's gorgeous.

Even staring death in the face, the compliment slipped out.

"It's hot…… Put it out……"

She lifted her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head. Blood-red eyes found me—and went wide.

"You……"

She staggered to her feet. Killing intent. The pitiful creature from a second ago was gone; what looked at me now was a predator that had just spotted prey.

"Why aren't you burning?"

Fwoooosh!

She thrust out a hand and a lash of flame cracked toward me. I threw my arms up in pure terror—but the fire hit my body and scattered into smoke.

"……Huh?"

Her face twisted. Shock. Then curiosity.

"Interesting."

A crooked smile tugged at her mouth as she closed the distance. One step. Two. The heat was choking, but my body held. Then her hand shot out and seized me by the collar.

Up close she was even more beautiful. And even more dangerous.

"You. You'll be useful."

"Uh, Inmate? Can we talk about this?"

"Shut up."

She grabbed my collar and started dragging me.

"Cold…… Nice."

Her scorching hand dug into the back of my neck. Like someone who'd found ice water in the desert, she had no intention of letting go.

"Effective today, your post is reassigned."

"Sorry—to what?"

"My personal air conditioner."

"……Excuse me?"

"Run, and I kill you."

With that charming little warning, I was hauled into the witch's chamber.

And that was how my life in the Abyss began—with a kidnapping.

"Move."

Elise flicked her hand.

KRA-KOOM—!

The tactical strike team blocking the corridor went flying like paper. Heat-resistant suits melted. Steel shields bent like taffy.

"Eek! S-somebody help!"

The officers screamed and ran. I watched the whole spectacle and let myself be dragged along quietly. Resistance? That was for people who had a spare life lying around.

Creeeak.

The instant her hand touched it, the thick steel door melted open. She flung me into the room.

"Oof!"

I hit the floor, rolled, got my head up—and couldn't believe my eyes.

"……This is a prison cell?"

Premium marble floors. Antique furniture. A king-size bed. Not a cell—a five-star hotel suite. The only catch was that the entire room was boiling like a sauna furnace.

"Hah…… hah……"

Elise staggered in, breathing hard. The second the door shut, she tore at her clothes in irritation.

Riiip—!

"Uh?"

The crimson dress shredded away. She didn't hesitate. Hot, so strip. Pure, primal instinct. And just like that, an S-rank beauty in nothing but a thin slip stood in front of me. Her white skin was flushed red with heat. Beads of sweat traced her collarbone and slid down into the valley of her chest.

Dizzying.

Of course, it would have been nicer if she weren't also a walking nuclear warhead.

"Hey."

She sat on the edge of the bed and called me over. Those red eyes pinned me through.

"Come here."

"Uh, Inmate? Maybe put some clothes on……"

"I said come here."

Fwoosh.

Sparks leapt from the tips of her hair. I crawled over without another word. Pride doesn't put food on the table. Three hundred and seventy dollars an hour does.

Standing in front of her, the heat hit me in a wave. At this distance a normal person would already have collapsed from heatstroke.

"Hand."

An order. I hesitantly held one out, and she snatched my wrist.

Sssssss—!

It sounded exactly like raw meat hitting a scorching pan. But there was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no smell of burning. Instead, a cool chill bled from my fingertips straight into her.

"Nngh……"

A low, almost sensual sound slipped from Elise's lips. The pain-twisted crease between her brows smoothed out. The fever-flush drained from her skin. Her eyes went hazy and unfocused.

"……Cool."

She rubbed my hand against her burning cheek like an addict chasing a high. No—like a castaway who'd just found ice water in the desert.

"What the hell are you?"

"F-rank prison guard Kang Jinsoo."

"Liar. An F-rank enduring my heat?"

She scoffed—but she never let go of my hand. If anything, she laced our fingers and squeezed tighter.

"Whatever. The performance checks out."

She yanked me onto the bed.

"Wha—?!"

I lost my balance and toppled onto the mattress. Soft bedding. And right in front of my face, the witch. A sweet body scent and the acrid smell of fire rolled off her at the same time.

"Starting today, you're my personal air conditioner."

"Air conditioner? I'll have you know I'm a public servant——"

"Don't like it?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Then leave. Just be ready to turn to ash the second you walk out that door."

A threat. A very simple, very clear one: step outside and she'd go berserk again and burn me alive.

"……It's an honor. I'll serve you at peak performance."

I switched gears instantly. I couldn't die before the debt was paid. Air conditioner, electric fan—whatever she wanted, I'd do it.

"Good. You pass."

She smiled, satisfied, and lay back on the bed. Then she pulled my hand to her chest and hugged it there. Something soft and warm pressed against the back of my hand.

Is this a reward or a punishment?

"Sleepy……"

With the pain gone thanks to my chill, exhaustion seemed to crash over her all at once. She closed her eyes, still clamping my hand like a shackle.

"Don't move. Let go and I kill you."

"Uh. Where exactly am I supposed to sleep?"

"There's a chair."

She jerked her chin at the hard metal chair beside the bed. King-size mattress for her, steel chair for me—and since I had to keep holding her hand, I'd be spending the night in an awkward half-crouch.

Wow. Look at this slave-driving employer.

But asleep, her face looked like an angel who didn't know a thing about the world. Long lashes. Lips like cherries. It would have been perfect if those lips would just stop saying "I'll kill you."

I don't know how much time passed. Her breathing evened out. Frozen stiff, I looked down at the sleeping witch.

My phone buzzed with the notification.

Fifty-nine hundred dollars.

The second I saw that number, the fatigue vanished.

Yeah. I can do this.

At this rate, what's one wrist between friends?