The Blue Jade Priestess
Long ago, I'd seen a treasure from some fallen empire that had trickled in from the western regions via the black market. It was a gaudy gold ornament embedded with a massive chunk of blue jade. Even in the thick of beating those underworld scum to death, its image had stuck with me.
So why bring up that one-off glimpse of the blue jade gold ornament now? It was because of the figure of the benefactor from the cell next door—Pria Padre—who had guided me, the amnesiac, through this hellish prison.
Her daddy-turned-mama's appearance was like this: a hood crudely fashioned from a cut-up bedsheet worn backward for some reason. Stray curls of long hair spilled out from beneath it—blonde hair you could spot even in the dim corridor light, despite the mess. Her skin, deprived of sunlight during who-knows-how-long imprisonment that wasn't exactly short-term, was translucent. Her body, wrapped in ragged clothes and starved of proper nutrition, looked gaunt yet retained graceful curves. Above all, those blue eyes looking down at me and the faint wrinkle across her nose from a slight frown left the deepest impression.
For the sake of my honor, let me clarify: she... no, she was taller than me. So my gaze landing on her chest before her face was unavoidable—pure force majeure.
"……."
"……."
Separated by the solidly locked iron bars, we stared at each other in silence for a moment.
"……."
"……."
Separated by the solidly locked iron bars, we stared at each other a bit longer. It was such a touching reunion that words failed us.
I didn't want to ruin her, but with no idea how much time we had left, I opened my mouth.
"We gotta get outta here first. That mad bastard said more test subjects are coming tomorrow."
"……."
She just kept staring blankly at me. What? Wrong approach? I pondered the situation carefully. Then it hit me—I considered my own appearance.
Head caked in blood, I probably looked like a lunatic. That must've scared her. I glanced at her face and realized that wasn't it. No fear there—just clear contempt mixed with a hint of unease.
"You don't think the mad scientist shoved his brain into me or something, do you?"
I asked, wondering if years of torment had sparked paranoia in her, making her wary of me. Only then did her frown ease, replaced by a pitiful look.
Feeling like a criminal under interrogation with no clue why, I averted my eyes from her mood, and a sigh-laden voice drifted through the bars.
"Open the door…."
The "idiot" at the end was obviously omitted.
"Ah."
Surprisingly, it hadn't even occurred to me to open the door until she said it. My throat was parched, stomach empty, and exhaustion from my drained dantian was fogging my brain. No, that had to be it. If even one of those wasn't an issue….
Muttering excuses, I had no choice but to head back to the mad scientist's lab. Eyes shut—since I'd bought new ones without seeing—I rummaged through the wrecked robot for the 'key,' then crossed the magic castle, the swamp, the human experimentation traps, and hell's roll call to stand before the bars again.
Clang clang.
"……."
"……."
Clang clang!
"…Haa, please. …Who are you?"
"No idea. Amnesia!"
Beep.
Pressing the colorful key to the lock opened it. It looked like a severed hand, so I tossed it aside and politely swung the door open.
"Jailbreak time, Padre."
"……."
She gave me a look full of things she wanted to say, then slowly stepped out beyond the bars.
I considered saying "you're free," but we hadn't been tried or sentenced—just kidnapped—so release didn't fit. Still, this place suppressed our freedom like a prison, so jailbreak felt right.
"……."
And she seemed to agree; standing in the corridor, she cautiously scanned her surroundings, emotions flickering across her face. She looked like a wild animal on guard or a freed slave not yet grasping liberty.
After surveying the corridor and shut cells, she slowly turned to eye her own pen.
"……Damn, it's huge."
Up close, beyond the bars, she was bigger than I'd thought, so I muttered without thinking.
Absorbed in sentiment, she couldn't hold back and burst out with a "pfft," laughing.
For the record, I meant her height. At least a head taller than me. Whether I was small or she was big, relatively speaking, she was huge. Not wrong, so no guilt here.
"…Crazy bastard…."
Her voice, laced with mirth and a hint of tears, finally called me a crazy bastard to my face. But understanding her feelings, I let the insult slide. When joy and emotion overwhelm, slips happen, right?
"Save the for outside. Blue skies and bright sun are waiting. Grab some water and food—let's go."
With magnanimity, I told her as I stylishly retrieved my discarded smart hand and unlocked my own cell. I tore the bloodstained sheet—stained from who-knows-how-many test subjects' deaths—into straps, then bundled supplies using the relatively clean sheet from Pria Padre's cell.
From the end of the corridor where the scrap-bot always wheeled out its cart, we grabbed food and water. Nothing blocked us except the cells— they never imagined test subjects escaping. Too easy; Pria Padre beside me seemed jittery with anxiety, so I spoke to bolster her.
"Alright, almost done. When this door opens, blue skies and…."
"Bright sun waiting for us. Got it—so stay sharp. Who knows what's out there."
Gripping a pipe pried from the wall in both hands, she glared at the elevator doors. Impressed by her solid stance inwardly, ding! The clear chime rang as the doors parted, greeting us with brilliant… darkness.
Life doesn't go your way, as it should be. If it did, the world would be even more fucked. Better this way.
Not embarrassed by the midnight wasteland outside or the barren wilds—scraping up excuses. If the Sapa overlords, brutal demonic cults, and their boss the Heavenly Demon got their way. If the mad scientist—his twisted mind etched on his face, heart shattered—got his. How much more of a shitshow would the world be?
Thus, life not going your way is right. Not because the dark wilds, moonless sky, and stifled chuckles beside me wounded my heart.
Anyway.
"…Shall we go?"
"Ahem. …Wouldn't it be better to wait for dawn and move then? No clue where we are."
"Better to be far from this building at least. They could show up anytime."
Answering her question, I crouched to peer at the ground. Moon hidden by clouds, but faint starlight from the night sky let me make out shapes.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Don't wanna head their way even if we move. Roads for vehicles are fixed anyway."
No tire tracks, as expected. Worn away by time, or maybe they used non-wheeled transport—pointless effort against my intent.
"Know where we are?"
"……."
Her blue eyes, scanning around, caught starlight and gleamed momentarily. A twitch—her hood shifted in the dark, or so it seemed, but too shadowy to confirm.
"…Outland."
"Lucky—familiar turf."
"Good news and bad news."
"Ah, that's unlucky."
I eyed the padre pleadingly as she dropped the ominous line. Good and bad always means the bad outweighs.
"Good news: head west, hit a city."
"Lemme guess the bad?"
"No idea how far."
Ignoring me seamlessly to finish, I shot her wounded puppy eyes. She glanced over, eyes narrowing with a soft tsk.
Situation's that bad, huh. Not at me—believing that, I looked up at the sky.