Frontal Breakthrough?
The words "frontal breakthrough?" slipped out of my mouth like it was no big deal, but I knew damn well it wouldn't be easy. If it were that simple, everyone and their mother would've already escaped. But Zachsen's underground prison was a hellhole buried five floors deep.
"May, what floor is this?"
"The fifth basement level! Heehee. Isn't it fun?"
Of course. They'd shoved us into the absolute worst spot.
"Boss, even though this kid's out of her mind, I gotta agree with her on this one."
I ignored May, who was flailing and smacking at Jun while yelling 'What the heck!', as he continued.
"The day before yesterday, Lady Rebecca went to ask Matthew for a big favor, right? They talked for a long time, but she came out looking completely deflated. And then..."
He cleared his throat awkwardly and started imitating Rebecca.
"Jun. Let's give up on Uncle Matthew. No matter how much we beg, it's not going to work. That's what she said. She avoided the details, but one thing's clear—Matthew isn't on our side anymore, right?"
Jun thumped his massive chest with both fists. The guy was built more like a warrior than an assassin.
"If we can't even break out of a prison with our own strength, what the hell are we doing? And we've already lost so many people!"
These crazy bastards. I had no idea why they were willing to go through all this trouble for someone like me.
"You sure about this?"
"Even if I die, I won't hold it against you."
"Yeah, yeah. If it wasn't for you, big brother, I'd already be dead!"
"Right."
With them pushing me this hard, what choice did I have?
"Let's go with the flashy plan."
"Hell yeah—!"
I kept my center of gravity perfectly balanced with every step. Heels raised, only the balls of my feet touching the ground. Moss grew thick beneath me, and the damp floor was slightly slippery. Maybe because the deepest level—floor five—had so few prisoners, the guards were relatively lax. Or perhaps it was a show of confidence that no one could break through the upper floors without first dealing with the ones below.
I climbed the half-collapsed stairs that radiated cold air and reached the fourth basement level. In this underground prison, the only light came from a single magic lantern as faint as a dying ember.
Blink—blink—
Whether it was due to budget cuts or some corrupt official pocketing the funds, I moved through the darkness of the flickering, dying magic lantern.
"What the hell is the Crown Prince doing in this remote outpost? Damn it, I can't even go home."
"Stop whining already. You've already won more than one gold off me."
Two men playing poker by the dim light. I quietly raised my hand. Thumb and index finger together, I shook it lightly, then swept my palm down my face. A signal we'd shared since the days we worked as a team.
'Knock them out and disguise ourselves.'
One of them must have drawn a good hand—his face lit up for a moment before vanishing into the shadows as the lantern flickered again. All that remained was the sight of both men slumped in their chairs, eyes closed, heads resting comfortably against the backrests.
"Hey, you can't quit until you cough up my money, so stop pretending to be slee—"
I caught the collapsing man gently and laid him on the poker table. While Jun dragged the now-naked guard into a corner and hid him, I quickly changed into the uniform. I cut my hair short—long enough to be called a bob—and pulled on a cap to obscure my features.
From here on, there were guards stationed at the stairs. A narrow passage with no side routes. Ordinary stealth techniques wouldn't work here. Jun and May had only managed to get in by using Matthew's help to create fake identities. The best option for me was to do the same.
If those two poker-playing, salary-stealing slackers woke up or got discovered, it would cause problems—but we needed to escape long before that became an issue.
Step. Step.
The metallic stench of dried blood clinging to my clothes was impossible to hide right now. The air down here was sticky and damp year-round, thick with the smell of mold, rotting blood, and rust. It felt like it was seeping into my lungs. I could only hope that the unchecked mold, the stench of decayed blood, and the iron tang would mask my own scent.
Without showing the slightest hint of anxiety, I gave a light nod to the guard watching the passage.
"Names."
"John. This is Linda."
"Paul."
The guy who had been yawning lazily at Jun's words narrowed his eyes.
"Hmm, Paul? Why are you here? Your shift shouldn't be over yet."
"Ah, I dozed off, tripped, and got a nosebleed."
I mimicked the voice of one of the poker players and covered my face as if wiping away blood.
"Tsk, you should be more careful. This place is cursed by the underground's malice or something—wounds open up so easily. Hurry on your way."
I left the disinterested guard with his arms crossed behind me and climbed the stairs. Lucky break. But I couldn't count on luck forever. Even if we got caught eventually, I needed to delay that moment as long as possible.
On the stairs leading to the third floor, May raised her eyebrows and looked upward. Above us, part of the stone ceiling had crumbled, and a breeze leaked from an old ventilation shaft. May stepped on Jun's cupped hands, jumped, grabbed the edge, then curled her body and slipped inside like a contortionist.
Clatter.
A bit of rusty dust fell to the floor. May lay flat on her stomach, reached down to help Jun, and with a small running start, easily pulled herself fully into the vent. She then reached back to haul Jun up while I checked the inside of the shaft.
It was a metal passage barely wide enough for one person to crawl through. Rust had eaten away at several spots, creating a faint whistling sound as air passed through. Sharp metal shards jutted from the surface—probably to deter intruders. May wrapped cloth around her hands, nodded, and began moving forward. Her movements were utterly silent, like a spider.
I didn't visit Zachsen's underground prison often, but I knew its general layout like the back of my hand. Memorizing the structure of any place you visited even once was basic knowledge for an assassin.
"Fork ahead," May whispered.
Two paths. The right one carried a much colder breeze. It was probably connected directly to the outside. The left one, on the other hand... the air was completely still.
I jerked my chin toward the left. A path used by something other than human wind. There would be no consideration for humans who had burrowed in like rats. We had to abandon any thought of escaping all the way through these vents.
"Left. Upper entry."
We crawled along until we reached a grate. Judging by the location... it had to be the storage room. A warehouse for confiscated weapons and gear. May nodded with satisfaction and slowly lay on her back. After struggling and grunting for a while without managing to open the grate, I reluctantly lent my strength.
Scraaape.
With a faint sound of crumbling rust, the grate lifted quietly.
Second-grade assassins. Jun and May. First-grade assassin. Lee Han.
They dropped silently through the ventilation opening. One shadow touched the floor without a sound, followed by a slightly larger one, and finally I landed.
"You planned this far?"
"Yep! I figured we had to stop by the storage room first! We need weapons, right? How was that? Pretty good, huh?"
May was beaming, practically hanging in the air with excitement.
"I didn't think of the ventilation shaft, though."
"Hey, come on! I thought of it the moment I saw it!"
The storage room was packed with equipment. Swords, blades, and daggers. I didn't have any particular attachment to it, but there was the dagger I'd used for the past two years—the one with both a smooth edge and a serrated one. And... a sleek, elegant dagger glowing a vivid, blazing red. The kind of weapon that didn't suit an assassin at all. The one that woman had given me.
I'd almost lost it. I grabbed the dagger sheath and a case of throwing weapons, then left the storage room and melted back into the darkness. Thanks to the ventilation shaft, we'd skipped a long distance, so the next checkpoint wasn't far.
Once again, a guard sat dozing in a chair in front of the stairs, snoring faintly.
"Oh my, big brother. Look at that. The jailer is sound asleep."
"..."
"Should I just slit his throat right now? He'll definitely be a pain if we leave him alive!"
"..."
His head was drooped as if sleeping, but his breathing was too regular. His heartbeat was strangely elevated. And most importantly, even though I didn't recognize the face...
"Ugh, it's definitely Greg. Look at that huge nose. Even with the disguise, he's still ugly. Heehee."
"You son of a bitch."
Second-grade assassin. Greg. The murderous glare he shot at Rebecca made it clear the act was over.
"Should I rip that mouth of yours apart?"
"Sure, try it~ If you can. Pfft, all talk as usual."
"You fucking—... No, no."
Greg had been charging forward with a furious expression but suddenly burst out laughing and took a step back.
"May, what are you doing here at this hour? And Jun too?"
"Oh please, a small fry like you doesn't need to know. So how about you get out of the way?"
Greg slowly curled his lips into a smirk.
"Are you here to find the one they call the traceless—Sir Muhun—who got caught after starting a rebellion? And who might the person wearing the hat behind you be?"
Clang—.
Greg, who had been chuckling, swiftly knocked aside May's dagger as it flew toward his heart.
"You used to strut around so proudly because of your close friendship with Sir Muhun. What now? You've become a dog without a leash. Oh wait, isn't that why you came all the way here—to reattach that leash?"
I drew the dagger from my coat like lightning. Before he could even react, I pressed it against his throat. The moment he swallowed hard, I sliced it open in one long vertical cut.
"Ah, ugh. Hack. Cough. Hic. As expected of the real traceless...! You really live up to the name. I didn't notice until the moment it pierced me."
"If you don't want to die, shut your mouth and clear the way."
"Khehehet. You're all already busted. The timing was way too obvious. So~ predictable. And I'll get recognized for discovering you all!"
As he pulled a whistle from his pocket and brought it to his lips, I severed his neck completely.
Splurt.
The man clutched at his spraying throat as he collapsed, still smiling.
What the hell? What did I miss?
The noisy commotion coming from above the stairs made me exchange glances with Jun and May.
"Boss... Looks like we've been found out."
"Fuck. Big brother. You ready?"
I shook the blood off my dagger with a few flicks and gave a firm nod.
"Yeah. Let's go."