Obsession... What's That? I Just Wish Someone Would Help Me Escape - Chapter 23
It doesn’t seem like two people alone dropped that big plank, there must be more.
“You crazy… Why are you so persistent! Let go! I might catch something from you!”
The prisoner whose ankle I had grabbed was horrified, shaking me off as if he’d seen a ghost.
I can never forgive them. I can only feel satisfied when I get my revenge.
“I won’t let this go. The rest of you f*ckers, too!”
“What can you do anyway? Let go of me!”
“Tell me who sent you before I smash your shin!”
I picked up a pickaxe that had fallen to the ground and slammed it against one prisoner’s shin.
My fury and desire for revenge overpowered my innate frailty and injuries.
“Ah! It hurts!”
The prisoner rolled on the floor clutching his bleeding leg.
I picked up the pickaxe, stood up, and glared at the remaining prisoner.
“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill…”
“You’re a mad dog!”
Seeing my crazed eyes, the other prisoner turned pale and fled.
Apparently, my blood-covered appearance wielding a pickaxe was terrifying enough.
Or perhaps deep down, he realized it wasn’t wise to mess with someone who has nothing to lose.
“Wow.”
Enrique approached, carrying a sack and exclaimed with admiration.
I spat at the rolling prisoner a few times before dropping the pickaxe and collapsing on the ground to catch my breath.
Enrique crouched beside me, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped my mouth.
“Lady 49, you look like a warrior bathed in blood. Seems like you’ll survive a long time.”
What are you talking about? Having used up my last strength, I felt my energy drain away and my eyes began to close.
Thump, I felt a solid shoulder against my head.
“I like it.”
Hearing the faint voice, I finally lost consciousness.
* * *
Surprisingly, Enrique didn’t toss me into the incinerator but left me in the barebones infirmary, where I eventually came to.
When I opened my eyes, instead of a white hospital ceiling, I saw a dingy, plaster one.
I thought I was alone, but then someone’s scornful laughter pierced my ears.
“How does it feel to be treated like a princess one day and thrown into the abyss the next?”
A man in a teal prisoner’s uniform, hands in pockets, was looking down at me.
The number 30 was clearly visible on his chest.
He must be the boss of the 30s.
“If it were the you I know, you would’ve begged me for help by now. You have a knack for persuading people to your advantage, don’t you?”
Me, benefit from someone in such a middling position?
And since when were we acquainted?
“Who are you?”
As I rubbed my throbbing forehead and asked, his face turned red, and his temples bulged with veins.
“Ha, you don’t even remember?”
That made sense; he had the kind of common face you’d pass on the street ten times without a second glance.
Had we shared a drink at some social gathering in the past?
I closed my eyes and grimaced as I thought hard. I usually didn’t bother to remember insignificant people, so he was clearly no one important.
“I can’t seem to remember. Guess you weren’t memorable enough.”
Social circles were just like modern-day politics.
Having a lot of power and connections also meant having just as many enemies.
It seemed clear that Number 30 wasn’t friendly toward me.
Then, he grabbed my hair smugly.
“If you had accepted my courtship back then, you wouldn’t have had to suffer such an unfortunate fate now.”
There had been so many suitors that I couldn’t remember them all.
No matter how superficial it might be, I’ve always rejected advances from anyone since I had a fiancé, considering it insane behavior.
Of course, if there had been someone I liked, I would have broken off the engagement right away, but there wasn’t a single one.
Anyway, was it this guy who held a grudge because I rejected back then, who ordered the lower-ranked prisoners to torment me?
Even attempting to kill me under construction materials?
“Do you think Number 1 and Number 2 will help you? You seem to know how to behave from now on.”
He seemed like someone who had been biding his time, waiting for the moment when he could have the upper hand.
I looked at him with disgust.
“Are you asking to be in a relationship with me?”
