🟠Chapter 04:
Days and weeks passed while I remained stuck in this miserable prison — no skill to help me and no Nuul coming to take me away. Maybe if they'd sent me to a forest it would have been better; at least there I might actually use the Factory skill. Here, my life revolved around porridge and cells. I tried to get to know some of the other inmates, hoping to find someone here for the same reason. But most either avoided me, thinking I was strange, or tried to pick a fight. No one wanted to talk about why they were here. To them, I was playing the role of a criminal detective, whatever that meant.
Still, I managed to pick up some scattered information.
Some prisoners distrust everyone here — and stranger still, they hold a deep grudge against the whole city of Valoris. They constantly badmouth it, calling its people liars and deceivers. One of the loudest among them is a man named Simon, who claims he was only visiting Valoris on holiday after hearing it was a great place to relax. Now he's behind bars, and because he used to promote the city as a tourist spot, his imprisonment actually caused a drop in visitors.
Then there's another inmate named Raynar. He claims to know every detail of the prison and talks about some big escape plan. But nobody can stand him. They blame him for their misery, though I have no idea what tragedy he's supposed to have caused. All I know is that he's the prison cook… for the guards. Yes — apparently our prisoners' cook is a guard, and the guards' cook is a prisoner. How ridiculous!
While I was thinking about all this inside my cell, I heard footsteps approaching. Well, of course — it was a guard — and a sly smile spread across his face.
"Alright, kid. Looks like you've settled in nicely… that means it's time to take you to that place."
That place? Oh no. Does he mean that place? The one every prisoner fears? I thought I wasn't fit for it yet since my body is weak, but apparently they don't care whether I am or not — everyone has to go through it. Prisoners are sent there for eight hours and return with blank faces, completely drained.
He opened my cell and took me out. I wasn't the only one taken; others from the neighboring cells were brought too. Some started shouting, acting up, even crying. I didn't, but that doesn't mean I wasn't scared — I nearly peed myself from fright, especially seeing the pitiful expressions on the other prisoners' faces. Seriously, what kind of place tests your patience and endurance like this? How did Ren handle this? I wish I'd asked him more about that place — maybe then I'd be less terrified now. There's a difference between going to an unknown terrifying place and a known terrifying place; both are horrible, but the unknown one is worse.
A few minutes later we arrived. The smell hit me before I could see the door — it was awful, yet oddly familiar and disgusting.
The guard opened the door, and what I saw inside… well, "shocking" might not be the right word. Was it a torture room? No.
A grueling workroom? Not exactly.
Well… maybe a bit of both. But if you think about it, the true horror becomes obvious.
Blank faces. Buckets. That unbearable stench.
Everything pointed to the worst guess — yes, it was toilets.
Overflowing toilets.
And our task as prisoners? Clean them — every filth inside. To be clear, these were the guards' toilets. Seriously — what kind of injustice and humiliation is this? Are the guards so lazy they can't clean up their own mess, or do they enjoy seeing a prisoner humiliated?
I asked one of the prisoners brought with me, and he said it's because the guards eat a lot of bean stew — all the guards love it, apparently — the bean stew prepared by the man called Raynar. Meanwhile we get odd-shaped porridge; I don't even know what they make it from.
Of course everyone wore nose plugs. I did the same.
There were more than twenty toilets, each one smelling at least twenty times worse than a normal toilet.
Now I understood why people disappear for the full eight hours.
How would I survive this? This is cruel, even for criminals.
The cleaning began…
Nearly eight hours of oppression and scrubbing.
By the time we were done, I could barely feel my senses. My arms hung limp, my face numb, the bucket still in my hand.
This is a true test of will.
At the end, each prisoner was handed something like a piece of gum — slightly larger than normal gum — by the guard, supposedly to help us recover. I took it, but I didn't eat it. No way. I've had enough mysterious substances for one day.
Now I understood why everyone hated Raynar.
It's him and that bean stew he prepares for the guards. Instead of being the one to clean the toilets, he cooks that abomination for them.
Later that night I lay on my bed, trying to recover mentally. I had a feeling I'd be dreaming about toilets for a while…
At that moment I heard voices outside the cell. I moved to the small window and tried to peek out. I saw Boral… with a guard. Wait — Boral? Really! I didn't expect to see him here. The man who unjustly put me in prison now stood right outside the cell. Just looking at him made me sick. His presence here is very suspicious — could he have partners inside this prison? Anyway, what were they doing here?
I couldn't make out the guard's face clearly, but I could hear their conversation.
"Make sure the next shipment is bigger."
Shipment? What are they talking about? That doesn't sound reassuring. And are they seriously discussing this outside my cell? Do they think I'm asleep or can't hear them? I was just lying there!
Then the guard added:
"By the way, the tourist Simon will be released next week. We need to prepare for that. I'll be at the city reception headquarters next week."
What?! Simon is getting out? What kind of preparations are they talking about?
I couldn't see the guard's face well, but I tried to remember his voice. Seems like it's time to activate Detective Mode. Boral came himself to dig his own grave — this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If I want to get out of this place as fast as possible… I must find out what's going on.