Obsession... What's That? I Just Wish Someone Would Help Me Escape - Chapter 7
I tried to free myself from Clara’s grip on my head, but I was immobilized.
It felt like a herbivore helplessly struggling under the paw of a predator.
Even when Clara was as small and delicate as I was, her strength was incredibly formidable.
Strong enough to lift a piano with one hand.
Under her parents’ unique philosophy that a lady with brute strength is undesirable in the marriage market, she had always concealed her power, pretending to be graceful and frail.
Now, it seems she’s chosen to fully reveal her true self.
“Wow, oh my, I had no idea you’d be the seventh strongest here, Clara.”
As she pressed my head harder against the table in response to my astonishment, she said,
“You’re the 49th out of 49. The most inferior being in this prison. Funny, isn’t it? I used to live in your shadow during the days of the caste system, and now I am above you.”
I barely managed to raise my eyes to look at her.
“No, Clara? We got along fine, right? I never did anything to upset you.”
“Not Clara, but number 7! It signifies that I’m the seventh strongest in this prison!”
With a deafening yell, she pointed to the other prisoners in the same greenish-gray uniforms as mine.
They were standing in a corner, clutching their hungry stomachs, just looking around.
“Those in the lower ranks, including you, eat the last of the leftovers. That’s the punishment for not following the meal order.”
Then it dawned on me – there were five different colors of prisoner uniforms.
Blue, brown, teal, sky blue, greenish-gray.
They were differentiated according to the prison hierarchy. Blue represented the top nine.
Most prisoners seemed to be around my age, and regrettably, none of the high-ranking officials I had cultivated relationships with were among them.
“Don’t forget that you’re no longer ‘Lady Beatrice Kido,’ but merely prisoner number 49.”
Was it the change in environment?
Even my own name sounded eerily unfamiliar.
I felt like the lowest of the untouchables, foreseeing the grim future awaiting me.
“Clara, I mean number 7, is your family safe?”
Clara’s complexion visibly darkened at my question, despite my head being pressed against the worn wooden table.
“My parents were obsessed with climbing the social ladder. They even entertained marriage talks with a 70-year-old man to marry me off. They aimed to elevate our family’s status through a pure-blooded high noble union. You, dragging me to social events, were no different.”
Clara’s chatty nature remained unchanged, only her tone and demeanor had transformed.
“I used my strength for you and ended up shaming my family! You also intended to use me as a guard, didn’t you?”
Anyway, the idea of being used. It seems like I’ve been the subject of manipulation while here.
I looked up at her with a bitter expression.
“The reason I brought you to social events was to help you escape your parents’ coercion and build connections and strength to live as yourself. I never said it, but the truth is, the strenuous schedule always left me sick.”
The pressure on my head gradually lessened.
I knew well that Clara was susceptible to compassion and sympathy.
Eventually, she let go completely and twisted her lips in a warning.
“Number 49, be careful from now on.”
It seems a tumultuous prison life lies ahead.
To think that those who were once my peers in the social scene would turn their backs on me.
I stared intently at Clara’s retreating figure.
After all, you’re supposed to come back to me, Clara.
I know you all too well.
Regardless of the strange looks from other prisoners, I let out a wicked chuckle.
***
After Clara took her subordinates and disappeared, I quickly snatched up the bread rolling on the table.
It was after the prisoners numbered 1-39 had finished eating and left.
The attitudes of the lower-ranked prisoners, previously subdued, became noticeably more assertive.
It’s a common trait among humans to feel superior by trampling on those weaker and find relief in seeing others worse off.
“Number 49! The lowest scum daring to touch the food first? Stay with your head down until Boss, Number 40, finishes his meal!”
A prisoner in greenish-gray attire shouted and pointed at me.
Prisoner number 40.
