Obsession... What's That? I Just Wish Someone Would Help Me Escape - Chapter 33
Today’s morning shift involved the production of military supplies and uniforms.
It seemed easier than the mines or construction sites, but the complex repetitive labor was mentally and physically exhausting.
“Hahaha, you look so scared!”
I noticed some prisoners from the 20s teasing a lower-ranking prisoner, pushing his hand under the sewing machine needle to scare him.
“Please, stop… don’t do that…”
“Just a test of courage, right? Afraid I’ll stitch through your hand?”
In this closed-off place, without freedom, watching the weak tremble with fear was probably their only source of joy.
Because that’s all they could do.
As if living by the law of the jungle, most just watched indifferently.
They’re probably thinking, ‘Glad it’s not me.’
I’m no different, a contemptible human being myself.
“Why are you so scared over this?”
After mocking for a while, one prisoner put his own hand in, feigning bravery.
I saw another prisoner passing by with a load and subtly tripped him.
Crash!
“Aaargh!”
The cargo tumbled down, and the sewing needle stabbed the hand of the now screaming Number 20.
“That’s what you get for being in the way!”
The tripped Number 10 prisoner snarled back, and Number 20 forced a smile.
“Sorry…”
Seeing this, I chuckled to myself, turning away.
It’s more fun to torment such tormentors with their own medicine.
“You.. Why are you laughing? Think this is funny?”
The needle-stabbed prisoner approached me with a fierce look.
Picking a fight with me for no reason? I shrugged indifferently.
“I was just trying to hold it back, didn’t laugh.”
“Same thing! Wanna die? I’ll do the same to you.”
Just as his rough hand grasped my arm, a sewing machine torn from its table flew through the air, striking the prisoner on the head.
Clang!
“Why are you fooling around? Stop making a scene and scatter!”
The deep voice belonged to Clara.
Seeing her piercing gray eyes, the prisoners shrank back into their places.
“Number 49, mind your own business. I don’t need help from a scum like you. You only make them torment me more,” grumbled the harassed prisoner as he passed by me. I scoffed.
“I wasn’t trying to help. It was just disgusting to watch.”
“That’s what I mean. It was all for yourself in the end.”
The lower-ranking prisoner muttered in a subdued voice as he trudged back to his spot.
I recalled those nobles from the past, powerless yet once like me.
Initially, they appreciated the help, but eventually, they exploited their hardships like privileges and resented anyone who didn’t comply with their requests.
‘Do right nine times, and one mistake can ruin everything. Conversely, make nine mistakes and one right move, and you’re seen in a better light. Plus, those with nothing but pride despise receiving help from someone they consider beneath them.’
Remembering someone’s words, I started to walk back to my place.
In the past, I would have faced relentless criticism and bullying, but nothing happened this time.
The lower-ranking prisoners, including Number 30, didn’t openly harass me.
Whether they thought I had gained Clara’s trust or had learned that provoking me would only bring them misfortune, I wasn’t sure.
“Well, damned mad dog. Are they avoiding me because they’re afraid of a mad dog?”
The disdain and mockery continued, but I was someone immune to psychological attacks.
And my physical condition was still terrible.
During the afternoon labor, I collapsed several times, hoping to pass out and not wake up. However, the cursed guard Damian revived me by forcing medicine into my mouth, thwarting my desperate wish.
“Are you okay?”
Damian helped me up, his face expressionless as he asked.
Involuntarily cradled in his sturdy arms, I slumped against him, sending him a pleading look to just leave me be.
“Please, just let me…”
“I’ll help you up.”
Just let me pass out, you moldy creep!
Dressed in his military uniform, Damian pulled off his glove with his teeth and then placed his bare hand on my forehead.
“Can you even survive like this?”
Under different circumstances, he might have seemed quite charming, but right now, everything just sucked.
I slowly turned my head, sighing deeply.
I wasn’t sure what kind of medicine he was giving me, but as it took effect, I felt the helplessness and pain slowly ebbing away.
“I’ve been told countless times that I wouldn’t last much longer, but surprisingly, I haven’t died that easily.”
“That seems to be the case.”
He took a small packet containing medicine out of his uniform pocket.
“Take one every hour.”
“Is this a painkiller? It’s different from what you gave me before.”
“It’s more of a suppressant. You’re in a state of disorder.”
What? Disordered health?
I wanted to ask more, but he firmly pulled me to my feet and then walked away with the disciplined stride of a soldier.
I slumped back to the ground and examined the medicine he had handed me closely.
“This medicine…”
Before being incarcerated, I had regularly taken this from a family pharmaceutical.
Why did Damian have it? Was he distributing medicine all the way to the prison?
As I was lost in thought, a large shadow cast over me.
“Hey.”
I looked up to see blue prison trousers standing firm in front of me.
