[Overcome the conditions presented and escape. Time remaining: 167 hours 46 minutes.] I shifted onto my side, pulling the blanket up to the bridge of my nose, continuing to peer at the guard through one, half-shut eye. As I had guessed from the sound of the high heels, the figure emerging from the left belonged to a woman. She looked oddly out of place in the current setting. Her gender didn’t produce that impression, but rather her attire. She was wearing tall black stilettos, a skirt hemmed just above the knees, and a crisp white blouse tucked beneath a tailored blazer. If it wasn’t for the ominous baton clutched in one of her hands, it would be easy to mistake her for a corporate office worker. What startled me even more than her outfit, however, was her appearance. Two dark crimson horns protruded from atop her vivid red hair. Similarly hued wings and a tail extended through slits in her skirt and jacket. She resembled the stereotypical depiction of a demon, at least on Earth, so it wasn’t surprising that my mind formed that connection. Well, to be fair, she appeared far more striking than those illustrations. Wearing a scowl, she continued approaching before suddenly stopping in front of my solitary cell. She silently stared, a brief flicker of surprise crossing her face, and she froze for a couple of seconds. Then, her head slowly turned in my direction. I let my eyelids sink just a little lower. My vision dimmed beneath thick lashes, like I was peering through a thin curtain. Her pupils widened slightly. Her gaze only grew more confused as it slowly climbed from my feet to my face. Worried she would notice my eyes weren’t fully shut, I closed them entirely. “This is weird. Wasn’t this cell empty?” Darkness surrounded me. I tried to summon a scrap of Aura, but my weakened state rendered it dull and scattered. The only presence I could clearly detect was the demon guard standing just beyond the bars. Damn. I still need to adapt to this diminished sensitivity. Drawing in a steady breath, I centered myself and tried to heighten every sensation I could. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹✦𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✦𝓷𝓮𝓽 That wasn’t necessarily for long, however. The guard slammed her baton sharply against the iron bars. “Hey! You there, get up.” Although she was calling for me, thankfully, it didn’t seem like she had caught me squinting earlier. She banged on the bars again, more forcefully this time. The harsh metallic clatter shattered the stillness of the corridor. Yet unlike before, none of the inmates stirred or swore under their breath. Silence returned just as swiftly. She has to be pretty terrifying for them to act like that. The moment the thought crossed my mind, I snapped my eyes open and sat up, feigning surprise. It wasn’t exactly convincing—even I could tell it was clumsy. Fortunately, the demon didn’t appear interested in scrutinizing my behavior. Her red eyes fixed on me. “You. What are you?” She didn’t really seem curious about my identity, though—it seemed like she was just expressing her confusion. Still, I rushed to respond. Claiming to be a climber was out of the question. I didn’t have any worthwhile information, so I couldn’t predict how she would react. It will be safer to pose as an inmate. Just as I opened my mouth to reply, I hesitated for a moment. Politeness is probably in my best interest. The other prisoners’ silence suggested that caution was wise. “What, got nothing to say? Step forward.” Her voice held a trace of annoyance. It was probably due to the lighting. The corridor and the window beyond were bright, while the cell interior remained cloaked in shadow. I stepped forward. “Are you speaking to me, ma’am?” “You think I’m talking to the wall, idiot? Who else would I...” she trailed off, eyes narrowing. Wait, did I say something wrong? I don’t think I— Then an old memory from military service hit me. I had been scolded for answering a question with a question. Shit. I should have just replied directly. Before I could correct myself, she continued, though not in the way I expected, “Well damn, you’re handsome.” Her expression brightened. The sharpness in her gaze softened, and a small smile curved her lips. “Uh, th-thank you,” I responded unconsciously, then immediately regretted my response. It was an awkward, stunned reply. The guard burst into laughter. “‘Uh, thank you?’ At least you know you’re good-looking. They say handsome guys can coast on their looks, and guess it’s true.” I didn’t respond as the whole situation just felt surreal. It reminded me far too much of boot camp. Avoid eye contact. Just focus on the philtrum. Still, there was a silver lining; the guard seemed to have taken a liking to me, thanks to my appearance. A classic case of being weak to pretty faces? I made a mental note to thank Cole again when I got back to the waiting room. “But seriously, someone like you in this cell? There’s no way I wouldn’t remember that face.” It was a compliment, and not a bad one. Given the situation, however, it felt strange and out of place. In moments like these, it was best to stay quiet. I remained silent, and the guard’s expression turned pensive. She studied me, then asked again, “When exactly did you get here?” “I was brought in just a short while ago.” “Just now? While I was off talking to the guard? And no one told me... not even the floor supervisor.” She bit her lower lip. I hadn’t noticed it before, but her lips were a deep, vivid red. As her sharp teeth pressed into soft flesh, a pale hue spread across the crimson lips, like white paint bleeding over red ink. “You. Stay put for a minute.” With that, she spun on her heel. Her high heels clicked urgently as she hurried down the corridor she had come from. The sound faded, then briefly paused—presumably at the end of the hall—before growing louder once more. When she returned, she held a single folder. “Let’s see. Even if you’re an unregistered inmate, there should still be some paperwork.” She scratched her head with a long, manicured nail, then began rapidly flipping through the pages. After skimming through a dozen sheets, she stopped. “Ahah. found it!” She read the page aloud, her small, red mouth forming precise words. “Name: Kwon Su-Hyeok. Charge: Unknown. Incarceration date: Unknown. Ability: Unknown. Execution scheduled in seven days. What the hell? Everything’s unknown except the damn execution?” I couldn’t help but let out a dry, sheepish laugh. “Heh.” Despite her tone, the words sent a chill down my spine. My heartbeat slowed, and my mind grew unnervingly still. Execution in seven days. I assumed the execution referred to how a climber would be killed upon failing a trial. The timing matched the floor’s deadline exactly, but hearing it phrased like that felt different. It wasn’t just a system message anymore. The guard studied the file a moment longer, then seemed to catch something. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “You got jailed by someone powerful, didn’t you?” “I’m not sure myself.” “Oh, please. Don’t play dumb. You have to have pissed off someone important.” “Sorry?” I replied confusedly, to which she tapped her temple twice. “Do you remember how you got here?” “Your older memories feel kind of hazy too, don’t they?” “There we go. That means someone up top pulled some strings. I can sense a bit of divinity in you. You were an apostle, weren’t you?” That was lucky. I didn’t have a solid explanation ready to go, but she brought up the idea of hazy memories. I decided to lean into that and run with it. The guard gave me a peculiar smile. “Knew it. It’s rare, but guys who end up here the way you did usually fall into one of two categories.” She held up two fingers. “Either they got on the bad side of the god they served, or they were captured by a rival deity—someone their patron’s at war with, even if there’s a ceasefire in place.” Her red eyes bore into mine. “So, which are you? You may not remember everything, but you’ve got to have fragments here and there.” Luckily for me, she had just offered a series of options for establishing a backstory. In situations , running with an opponent’s suggestions would work well. Now, how should I construct my story? Either way, I had to escape. If I wanted any chance of that, I needed to stay in her good graces. Avoiding suspicion was essential. Between a prisoner and a guard, the only real leverage a prisoner had was sympathy. So, between being “punished” or “captured,” the latter sounded like the better card to play. “I do recall fragments of a fierce battle.” “Then you were either a prisoner taken before the ceasefire or abducted afterward. Usually, captured enemies are traded or negotiated for, but seems like you got fucked over, poor guy. You were a real thorn in your opposing god’s side, huh?” “Haha. I’m afraid I can’t remember that far.” “Well, at least you weren’t tossed aside by your own god. Some apostles think it’s a good idea to run their mouths in the name of loyalty. I hate those rebellious types.” It seemed I had chosen wisely. I didn’t respond, and she gave me a cheeky wink. “Hm, the more I look at you, the more I like what I see.” She smiled, but my thoughts drifted in another direction. Getting on your own god’s bad side. It was hard to imagine. From what I had seen, the relationship between gods and their apostles was built on blind faith and devotion. Then again, I hadn’t seen everything the world had to offer. I supposed it wasn’t impossible. What I couldn’t wrap my head around was why a god would lock up their own apostle in a place . Wouldn’t it be easier to just strip their divinity? Punish them directly? I didn’t have an answer, though I did consider a couple of explanations The first thought that came to mind was that becoming an apostle was a one-way transformation. On the other hand, it could be something as simple as the god becoming furious and deciding to use their apostle as an example to put fear into the hearts of their other followers. Either way, it wasn’t something I could judge so easily. Once the guard left, I planned to ask the guy in the next cell. He was talkative, so he would probably be willing to explain. Every trial had a solution. So far, I had only interacted with two people: the guard and the prisoner next door. I had to make the most of whatever I could squeeze out of those two. I drifted briefly into thought, almost missing the next thing the guard said, “You look strong, and you’re too handsome for us to only get a week of fun with.” It sounded like a compliment at first, but the second half came across as deeply unsettling. Fun? Is sexual assault common here? She took a step closer, eyes gleaming with the intensity of a predator eyeing prey. Just then, a man’s voice called out from the end of the hallway, “Phiri! What are you doing? We need to finish the announcements before lights-out!” The guard flashed me a playful smile. “See you later, Su-Hyeok~” Then she turned on her heel and walked off, her heels clicking briskly against the floor. Su-Hyeok? When did we get on a first-name basis? I stood there in a bit of a daze, watching the corridor she had disappeared into. Just like that, I had one more reason to escape as soon as humanly possible. As I turned back toward the bed to collect my thoughts, my neighbor gossiped, “Did that bitch just say he was good-looking? That’s the first time I’ve seen her act like that.” “So it’s not something she does often?” “Are you kidding? Didn’t you hear me? That’s never happened before. Usually, she treats us like vermin. Beat ‘em first, and don’t bother talking.” After hearing that, I started wondering if Phiri really did have a soft spot for pretty faces. He muttered to himself, “Damn, if she’s acting like that, just how good-looking is that guy? I’m jealous as hell.” This asshole. Jealous? That is what you are worried about? I was seriously rattled here. I felt a flicker of annoyance, but of course, I didn’t show it. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask, but what did she mean by a god locking up their own apostle?” “No clue. I don’t talk to pretty boys.” “What?” I asked again, but didn’t receive a reply. Instead, I heard the soft rustle of a blanket from the neighboring cell. It was a clear signal that the conversation was over. What the fuck? What are you, five? He started the conversation in the first place. With a sigh, I lay down on the bed. It was time to start thinking seriously about how I was going to escape. Unfortunately, with what little information I had gained, no clear solution presented itself. Damn it. How the hell am I supposed to break out of here?