Chapter 3: 3

As his long legs, which had been walking leisurely in wide strides, stiffened, my toes, which had been loose due to a sudden stop, touched his hard stomach. My toes just touched it, but I felt something.

It was frighteningly hard and flat abs. Imagining something in the man’s muscles that I could feel through the tunic, I bit my lower lip.

『The Shackles on My Hands』 was R-19 novel. Deon felt a coercive desire towards the female lead, Leilia, and his obsession involved taking off his top when he saw Leilia.

Did you say the sweat glistened through his tightly knit abs? It was just that my toes touched his belly, but I remembered the 50,000 descriptions of the novel I was reading at dawn.

The man is over 190 cm tall. His whole body was like a huge fortress.

“Ah, command magic.”

It was then.

I was wiggling my toes to avoid touching my abs as much as possible, but in the silence, a terribly low bass sound echoed through the hallway.

“…That’s right. My noble prison officer had bad taste in giving orders to me.”

I could feel him chewing on his mouth as if he was laughing, then lowered his gaze and stared at my wobbly legs.

“I wonder how long you can keep that goddamn command tone going.”

He meant that if the command magic was lifted, he would kill me.

…Yes, I was Lemony.

Only then did I get out of the reader’s eyes and realize that I almost died from a huge man with tightly packed abs.

This extra, which seems to have been created by crudely squeezing the names of vitamins and jewels, was only created to maximize Deon’s anger.

The Marquis of Christina, where Lemony was born, was famous for their harsh education. Her siblings grew up as well-mannered dolls who were cut and shorn by discipline that did not mind beating.

But Lemony didn’t.

Because she had a congenital disease, she couldn’t feel pain.

 

“Lady Lemony. Lift the hem of your dress.”

“Why?”

“Why? Why? It’s because you’re a bad young lady who doesn’t listen to her tutor.” 

“Yes. Hit me.”

“…what?”

 

Lemony’s past, briefly mentioned at the beginning of the novel, can only be called a crazy bitch.

“I also wonder how hard I have to get hit to feel the pain.”

I was a little freaked out when I read the lines. Even though it’s a novel, it’s not something a 12-year-old should say. Her curiosity, ignorant of pain, gradually degenerated into a bizarre form with age.

 

“First-class prisoner. His name is Deon? Would a first-class prisoner not feel pain like me?”

 

To be honest, I possessed Lemony, but it was understandable that Deon, who escaped from prison, killed Lemony first. Throwing his head into the toilet, tying his limbs, and feeding him bread. No, there were countless days when even bread was not given in the first place.

Lemony’s gimmick, who even became his prison officer, was further exacerbated by the command magic that only first-class prison officers could sign.

The Dreys prison was originally a gathering place for prisoners the Southern and Western empires could not handle. In particular, first-class prisoners designated as the highest-risk class were difficult to deal with, so they could not be controlled without a compulsory order.

One whistle was distributed to every prison officer in charge of the first-class prisoner.

The prison officer, who signed such a compulsory contract, was able to correct the prisoner’s behavior by forcibly issuing orders when a first-class prisoner behaved against prison life.

However, in the original, the command magic is terminated when an unknown first-class prisoner escapes from prison. This is because the defense system was broken due to the first-class prisoner who broke through the barrier of the prison.

But now.

“…Prisoner. You acted like an obedient dog. Shouldn’t I at least praise you?”

The command magic was being maintained.

That’s why he was standing like a wooden stone, only sarcastically and couldn’t do anything.

“…well done.”

I was concentrating on holding my trembling hand as hard as I could, the answer came as I was told, but I heard a giggling sound from the other side.

“I think it’s better to show your compliments with actions rather than words.”

“What?”

“Undo the command magic.”

His gaze darkened as he stared at my leg.

“…or at least show me your weeping face.”

I’m afraid I can’t.

“Put me down.”

At the last word, my heart, which had been pounding, hardened like ice.

This man was no longer the male lead in the novel’s description. I don’t know why I possessed the character named Lemony, but when the cool bass sound penetrated my ears, I thought I had to live.

It was only a waste of time to be swayed by Deon anymore.

I still had blood in my head and was short of breath, but since the original was changed, at least I had a weapon against him now.

I meant there was hope.

“Deon, drop me off.”

When she managed to blow the whistle with a trembling breath, her neck suddenly stiffened as if it had been hypnotized.

Deon grabbed my waist as if he rebelled. But that’s all.

Soon, the soles of the shoes floating in the air touched the floor. As I swallowed my saliva, I loosened the rope hanging around my waist.

I read the novel and found out. The Dreys prison officer was given a rope for capture along with self-defense weapons that could subdue the prisoner.

His horrible bloody eyes shining through the darkness, watched my actions as he tilted his head. Cold arsenic caught at the end of his mouth, which was closed in a straight line.

“Why? Is it your hobby to tie things up?”

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“….does your thoughts only go that way?”

“You told me, officer.”

Because I’m not Lemony.

“Tied up.”

Disgust can be seen on his smiling face.

“Hand.”

I tried to ignore his stinging gaze and slowly walked behind him.

“That’s your cup of tea.”

“Behind your back.”

“The high-ranking noble officer is back this time….”

“Put your hands on your back, Deon.”

At the same time as blowing the whistle, the man’s bear-like back tightened and his thick wrists crossed in an X. Great. I can leave Deon in solitary confinement on the 7th floor and get out of the prison.

“Now follow me.”

Can I keep giving orders?

If the command magic is terminated later, I may be torn to pieces more brutally than the original.

He was a man like a beast. My neck stiffened for a moment at the thought of just in case, but now I couldn’t help it.

There was only one way. When I blew a whistle and took a heavy step, a much heavier and quieter step began to follow me after a while.

“I will.”

There was a separate problem. Even if I can give orders, those scary eyes that will kill me won’t disappear.

“Because I’m your dog.”

◆

 

The Dreys Prison was a huge cluster with a total of five buildings maintaining a proper distance. Where I am now is Building B.

In the original story, the story begins when a first-class prisoner in Building A succeeds in escaping.

“…so I can’t go to Building A…”

A black shadow fell over the hand that was reading the map. When I heard a reflective warning sound in my head, I hurriedly turned my head, checked the cause, and burst out laughing.

It was the shadow of a torch.

Perhaps the wind blew somewhere, but the fire distorted and suddenly the shadow seemed to have lengthened. That was all. I felt cold from the tailbone to the air around me, but I opened the map again, biting my lower lip indifferently.

The seventh floor of Dreys Prison without Deon was eerily silent.

The hallway, which had no windows and depended on torches, was dark, as if entering the mouth of a beast, and the air was damp and cold at the same time, perhaps because the ventilation system was not properly equipped. The word bleak seemed more accurate.

My place is on the 7th floor.

To be exact, I was sitting on the stairs leading down to the 6th floor, locking Deon in the cell.

 

“If you’re going to go down there with that stupid look and run after the other prisoners, you’d better stay here. I have to kill you with my own hands.”

 

Suddenly, I remembered the pre-threat on the day I squeezed through the bars. And I had to admit that Deon’s warning was somewhat correct.

I didn’t know it when I came up with the man, but I’m alone, so Dreys Prison is a pretty scary place to walk alone.

A broken prison. A torch that is about to go out. The occasional squeak of steel bars and the rough surface of granite on the floor were damp enough to make my bones ache. And the stairs to the 6th floor were completely dark without torches.

I didn’t know what was there.

Prisoner? Another officer?

If we play a probability game, there’s a high possibility of facing a prisoner. Because this worldview was thoroughly written from the prisoner’s point of view.

It’s so scary. As I stared into the darkness, not knowing what might come out of it, my breath started to quicken again. However, it was not possible to fool around here.

“…let’s, sort things out for now.”

Sitting on the stairs, I nervously bit my lower lip.

The Dreys Prison was a fortress surrounded by a total of five buildings. On the seventh floor of each building, one prisoner of the first class was held in solitary confinement. However, going downstairs, dozens or hundreds of prisoners were divided into 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th-class prisoners.

That meant, here, in Building B, there was no prisoner stronger than Deon.

However, the Dreys prison is a trash can that collects debris that the Western and Southern empires could not handle. It was safe to say that there were almost no human prisoners. Most of them were monsters, and it was questionable why they didn’t kill them, but in the novel, ‘intelligent humanoid monsters’ were described as having dignity that conformed to human rights. It was called magocracy.

“….magocracy…. I really…”

Conclusion. I couldn’t help but laugh.

When I came to my senses, my fingers were nervously curled between my hair.

I can’t escape.

…..no. Will I ever escape?

“Who wants to die here?”

My question rang out on the empty stairs.

I didn’t want to die. Even when my late parents’ insurance money bewitched my distant relatives before I possessed Lemony. Even when they have sometimes beaten me in the name of education.

Even when I was just holding back despite the swear words, they still came to my mind vividly.

 

“You weed-like bitch. How comfortable would it be if you died together with your parents?”

 

Yes.

I was a weed there.

A weed with such a tenacious life force could not have died like this.

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