[Overcome the conditions presented and escape. Time remaining: 139 hours 36 minutes.] After finishing breakfast the next morning, I lay on the bed and focused on the mana gathered near the right side of my chest. Counting what I had consumed yesterday, I had now consumed four meals’ worth of utensils. Compared to how much mana I had accumulated before entering this floor, it wasn’t much, but it was still enough. Even though this new collection of mana was located in a different part of me, it operated in the same manner. However, I focused on drawing it out, not for combat, but to gather information. By channeling mana toward my ears, I could pick up sounds in far greater detail. The path to the interrogation room was the only area I was familiar with at this point. Since I still hadn’t found a guaranteed escape route, I had been eavesdropping on the other prisoners’ conversations. In fact, the odds of uncovering anything useful were slim, but even if they weren’t, there was still value in hearing whatever I could. I had only been here for a little over a day. Al Ferhadeen was largely a mystery to me. Even trivial snippets from chatter between the inmates could turn out to be valuable later. Most of the conversations were utterly useless. Just a string of self-important bragging about who they were outside, how no one would have dared make eye contact with them, or some vulgar banter about the guards. That is how surveillance works, though. It is a patience game. Shame I can’t extend my senses any farther. My mana was still limited. It allowed me to listen all the way up to the stairs at the end of the corridor, but that was the safe limit. I could stretch it farther, yes—but then the current would become too noticeable. In a place full of mana-deprived inmates, even a faint flow could raise suspicion among both guards and prisoners alike. I would stick within the safe boundary, at least, for now. Just as I was about to frown at the crude chatter that had been echoing since morning, I heard footsteps coming from the top of the stairs. Wait. The guards finished their routine patrol not long ago. I narrowed my eyes and focused even more on the sounds around me. The blurry footsteps became clearer, and the sharp rhythm of heels clicking against stone reached my ears. Phiri. Her stride is quicker than usual. She was moving fast. I immediately pulled the mana back. Phiri was stronger than the average guard, so if she sensed a trace of magic, it could spell trouble. Better safe than sorry. As I withdrew the mana, her footsteps faded, only to return moments later, this time clearly approaching my corridor. She wasn’t taking being subtle about it—she was heading directly toward me. So she is here for me. My cell was at the far end of the hallway, so there weren’t any other cells beyond mine. Besides it, there was a room beside mine that guards sometimes entered—it looked like a storage space, given how often they shuffled things in and out. However, I didn’t have a clear view of it and couldn’t risk spending the time to inspect it. Still, I don’t think I have ever seen Phiri enter that room. Maybe she was high-ranking enough that she didn’t need to deal with things like storage. In any case, since she wasn’t known for taking an interest in other prisoners, chances were high she was here for me. I slowly sat up on the bed. Her approaching heels carried a note of excitement. Soon, Phiri appeared in front of the bars and met my eyes. Just as I suspected, her face looked faintly animated—a little too eager, in fact. “Hey!” She blinked, realizing she had greeted me a bit too loudly, and quickly looked around. She probably didn’t want the other prisoners catching wind of it. With that kind of tone, it really did sound like she was greeting a friend. I stifled the smile threatening to overtake me. Her eyes sparkled with unspoken energy, which told me everything had gone well. Making sure not to make a noise, she mouthed, “It was real!” So she had already confirmed my story, even though she had stated it would take two days. I smiled internally and mouthed, “Really?” She nodded. Then, placing her hand on her hip, she whispered, “Come out.” Her tone had been annoyed, almost scolding. The slight twitch in her facial muscles told me she was trying to put on an act, though. Unfortunately, that overly cheerful greeting from earlier sort of ruined the illusion. Still, there wasn’t much the other inmates could do. I couldn’t help but smile faintly as I watched her straighten her expression and maintain her pretense. Feels like a secret campus romance during freshman year. I remembered pretending to act indifferent toward my ex so upperclassmen or classmates wouldn’t catch on. I couldn’t recall exactly why we’d gone to such lengths, but thinking back on it now, even that had become a fond memory. Phiri slotted the key into the lock. No time for distractions now. The door opened, and I stepped outside. She gave me a quick glance, stiffening her expression again before marching down the hall. Is she taking me to the interrogation room again? From the sound of it, she was still putting on a front as her heels struck the stone floor sharper than before, echoing with faux irritation. Smiling faintly, I followed her lead. [Overcome the conditions presented and escape. Time remaining: 125 hours 25 minutes.] That night, while doing push-ups in my solitary cell, I mentally replayed the conversation from the interrogation room. As soon as we had entered the room, I could sense that Phiri was unusually excited. There had been a strange light in her eyes, practically brimming with elation. “It was real! The apostle’s name was Quinthavaren! You really did kill one of Endless Furnace’s apostles!” “Have any of your other memories returned?” There had been a bit of an awkward lull after that. Confirming that I had killed the apostle didn’t change anything—my execution was still scheduled. Although I know I can escape, from her perspective, there isn’t much left to say. The walk to the interrogation room had taken longer than the conversation itself. At one point, she had asked why my god hadn’t come to save me. All I could offer was a shrug. Maybe my god didn’t have the power to intervene, or maybe I just wasn’t worth it. She had immediately objected. “What are you talking about? Killing a third-class god’s apostle isn’t something just anyone can do!” “I am confident that Endless Furnace pulled something. Probably made sure word wouldn’t reach your god.” “If you could just remember your god’s name, I could try passing on a message.” Then we had parted ways. I was fairly certain I hadn’t imagined the look on Phiri’s face as she walked away—it seemed conflicted. The pauses between her echoing steps in the hallway were longer than usual. Honestly, I had only ever guessed at her circumstances. There was no way of knowing how things would turn out. Done thinking about the memory, I focused back on my mana. Even late into the night, I was still tuned into the ambient sounds of the prison. I had skipped two more meals—lunch and dinner—growing my second collection of mana. There was a minor issue, however. The more I ate, the less mana I seemed to absorb from each “meal.” I had initially planned to escape after five days. Now, I was starting to think that it would take six, maybe even seven. Anyway, with the added mana, I could now reach a bit farther up to the stairs, up to the next floor. Not that there was much to hear at this hour. Just snoring from the cells and the soft shuffle of patrolling guards. Exhaling quietly, I rose from the floor. “Phew.” I had just finished a set of push-ups. After a short thirty-second rest, I planned to start the next one. Even with my stats restricted, I was still far stronger than the average person. To maintain the rhythm of my training, I circulated mana to gently ease the tension in my muscles. I turned my head from side to side, shaking off the monotony brought on by the repetitive exercises, then placed my palms back on the floor. Inevitably, my thoughts drifted back to the trial. So far, I have uncovered two ways out of here. I didn’t know which one was the hidden mission, although maybe both were. If I had to guess, I would go with the less obvious option. If all I needed to do was eat the mana utensils, then that was an easy conclusion. I had already done that. Even if I hadn’t felt any obvious stat increases, I had still consumed them and gathered mana. On the other hand, if helping Phiri was the hidden mission, then things would be more complicated. I would have to either persuade her or leave a trail so that she would come to me. Things were far more likely to go wrong following that path, however. Phiri was clearly suffering, but not everyone could afford to risk fighting the system. The tower will simply send me to the waiting room if I escape, but she will be left behind. Killing the warden would also mean going against the god in charge of this floor—Iron Bars of Despair. I figured she would struggle to make up her mind. Then, it clicked. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭⚫𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦⚫𝘯𝘦𝘵 Why wouldn’t eating the utensils be the hidden mission? Stats were restricted, so maybe boosts from hidden missions wouldn’t activate right away. Realistically, I couldn’t escape unless I removed the cuffs, and doing that through a relationship with the floor manager—Phiri—felt like the most natural route. Besides, the idea of a hidden mission only unlocking if you’re good-looking doesn’t hold up to inspection. Of all the hidden missions I had cleared, I couldn’t recall a single one based entirely—or even partly—on my looks. My first assumption had been that it was thanks to the potion Cole had gifted me. The more I thought about it, however, the more it felt too convenient. Looking back, there wasn’t a single life form here that looked anything like me. The other prisoners in this facility were all from different species, and they were distinctly alien in appearance. The elixir probably didn’t make a difference. Therefore, I doubt Phiri took a liking to me just because I was attractive. Maybe it was because she genuinely found my features—what I would consider “human”—to be good-looking. Or perhaps the tower had influenced the manager to feel more amicable toward the challenger. That seemed more likely. Just look at how Phiri had walked straight down the corridor the moment I arrived. A prisoner showed up unannounced, even before the manager heard about it. With practically everything in my file being unknown, of course, she would be curious. Sending me to the interrogation room to fill in the blanks was only natural. Having the climber witness her anger over the guards’ gossip was likely by design as well. Then, it would be up to the climber to convince her of their strength during the interrogation. Compared to uncovering the magical utensils or sniffing out the poisoned food, this path feels like the intended route. Considering that, there really wasn’t much to worry about. If this were the main strategy laid out by the trial itself, then Phiri would likely make the first move at some point. No, maybe she wouldn’t even need to. Just escaping on my own could be enough to get the warden dismissed from his post. Thinking further ahead, maybe it would be better if I acted alone without dragging her into it. Right now, I am in no position to take responsibility for her future. Just as that thought settled in, footsteps echoed from the stairwell above. The sharp rhythm of heels clearly indicated it was Phiri. However, she didn’t seem to be headed my way. I furrowed my brow slightly.