CH 4. A Certain Prison
From the moment he called out to me, my mind became a tangled mess.
Should I intercept the key now?
If so, how do I draw his attention?
My hesitation didn’t last long.
In an incomplete synchronization state, this would be pure gambling.
No need to force it. The timing wasn’t right.
“You’re really working hard on stacking those stone towers, aren’t you?” Clark sneered, looking at me.
Judging by the atmosphere, he still seemed unaware of what had happened in the dining hall…
“I expected you to look half-dead, but you’re holding up better than I thought.”
“……”
“Hey, guard! Double the workload starting tomorrow. Understood?”
“Double… the current amount…?”
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“N-no, sir! It’ll be done!”
Ha. Look at this.
They’ll throw another tantrum over the increased workload. That bastard’s deliberately making things harder for me.
“I can’t wait to see you begging for death.”
What kind of grudge is this? How did things escalate to this point?
Frustrating as it was, there was nothing I could do right now.
“Rest well. It’ll only get tougher from here.”
“……”
Clark tossed a few more mocking remarks before heading to the adjacent room. His real business clearly wasn’t with me.
“Numbers 114, 456, 891, 2918—step out.”
The called prisoners shuffled into the hallway, their expressions grim. No—grim didn’t capture it. Their faces were shadowed by despair, as though carved from darkness itself.
“Ugh. Here we go again.”
“Who are those people?”
When I asked, Liu shook his head vigorously.
“Death row inmates. Off to enjoy their last meal.”
“They execute people here too?”
“Of course. This place has its own strict systems and rules.”
“But last time, they killed people indiscriminately.”
“That was during an escape attempt—a valid reason. Look at you, still breathing. If there were no rules, the warden would’ve killed you ages ago, given how much he despises you.”
Now that he mentioned it, that made sense.
Kerion Prison was officially managed by the Empire, after all. The warden couldn’t act entirely on whim.
Liu added more details:
“Prisoners get a final meal before execution. They can eat whatever they want.”
“I thought this place threw human rights out the window. Guess not entirely.”
“It’s their last moment. Even knights and mages get their final wishes heard, right?”
“What’s the criteria for selecting death row inmates?”
“Huh? You really don’t know anything, do you?”
Liu tilted his head, then continued:
“Most prisoners here haven’t committed major crimes. Nobles find it… unseemly to kill their own subordinates, so they ship them here. Murder’s a capital offense in the Empire.”
“So they can just send anyone they dislike?”
“Exactly. But in exchange, they pay an annual fee. Stop paying for over a year, and the prisoner gets marked for execution. Most don’t survive past that first year.”
What a twisted system.
In the game, I’d only known this place for its brutal difficulty. But living here? Pure hell.
“How many years have I been here?”
“Isn’t it weird to ask me that?”
“I… can’t remember suddenly.”
“Guards say it’s been three years.”
So the Arahann family had been paying yearly.
Even after abandoning me, they didn’t want me dead. That explained why Liu stuck close—other prisoners got axed within a year, yet I’d survived three.
The pieces are falling into place.
A mental blueprint of my escape began to form.
Days passed.
The prisoners’ groans under the doubled workload echoed through every night. Resentment festered, and hostile glares toward me multiplied.
Liu had already collapsed into snoring sleep. Even my frail body, aching from exhaustion, succumbed the moment I lay down.
Then, during sleep, synchronization completed.
[Synchronization Complete]
[Loading Information]
[Name: Zed (Arahann)]
[Class: Mage]
[Traits]
[Immune to All Poisons (S)]
[Undying Competitor (S)]
[Tenacious Challenger (S)]
[Champion’s Noble Soul (S)]
[Archmage’s Blessing (S)]
[Stats]
[Strength: 100 (-50)]
[Agility: 100 (-50)]
[Stamina: 100 (-50)]
[Perception: 100]
[Mana: 0]
[※ Penalty applied due to stunted growth]
“Ugh—!”
Agony ripped through me mid-sleep. Was this how it felt to be torn limb from limb?
It jolted me awake two hours early.
Wait… Is this real?
I wiped cold sweat away and stared at the status window. Even through the pain, I’d instinctively known—synchronization was complete.
But scrolling down left me speechless.
…Mana: ZERO?
What the hell? My class is MAGE!
How does a mage have ZERO mana?!
This is like bread without dough, dumplings without filling!
The most critical stat for a mage—gone. I laughed bitterly at the absurdity.
I’m a half-baked joke. No wonder I was discarded.
Born into the legendary Arahann family, only to be this pathetic? It made twisted sense. Their prestige in the Empire was unmatched, after all.
Breathe. Assess calmly.
What’s done is done. My habit of clinging to positivity kicked in, steadying me as I scanned each line.
“Hmm.”
Last Savior’s max stat was 100. Strength, Agility, Stamina, and Perception all capped—small mercies. Synchronization had indeed converted my real-world stats.
But the “stunted growth” penalty slashed my physical stats to 50. A skeletal body couldn’t handle full power. Unnecessarily realistic for a game.
The penalty’s fixable with training.
What mattered was the max stat potential. Swinging iron daily was my specialty—this temporary setback wouldn’t last.
New traits, all S-rank…
Stats alone made me trash, but these traits? A game-breaking combo. In a decade of gaming, I’d only ever earned two S-ranks: Immune to All Poisons and Undying Competitor. Now I had five.
Zero mana stung, but the traits softened the blow.
What’s ‘Archmage’s Blessing’ good for with ZERO mana?
No explanations, but the old Rase saying held: “Traits never betray you.”
There’s gotta be a workaround for mana.
For now, synchronization was done. Escaping this hellhole became priority one.
Corrected Translation:
"Prisoner 218?! What are you doing there? Have you finally lost your mind?"
Liu, who had just woken up, stared at me in shock.
I greeted him casually from my handstand.
"Sleep well?"
"No, why the hell are you upside down? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Just exercising."
"Exercising? Lifting rocks wasn’t enough?"
"Yep. Got energy to burn."
"......"
I pumped out a few more handstand push-ups before relaxing. The warmth coursing through my body left me refreshed.
Even with the penalties, this body felt like a complete rebirth compared to my former weak self.
"Wait—were you always this tall? I thought we were the same height! And why’s your body so damn solid?"
"Try lifting rocks harder."
"Since when does lifting rocks make you grow?!"
Liu kept scrutinizing me like I’d sprouted a second head.
The synchronization had drastically altered my physique, though compared to my real-world body, this still felt like a child’s.
"Work detail starts now! Prisoners, line up outside your cells!"
Groans echoed through the prison at the guard’s shout.
Dragged out like cattle to slaughter, I spotted yesterday’s half-built stone tower.
"By the warden’s orders, workload doubles today! No walking—run! Understood?!"
"The fuck?! How are we supposed to do more?!"
"We’re already breaking our backs! Give us something humanly possible!"
"Get a grip! How many times will you pull this shit?!"
Prisoners already at their limit erupted in protest.
Guards nearby drew their swords on cue—an expected threat.
"I’m just relaying orders. Complain to the warden."
"This is insane! How much worse can it get?!"
"Take it up with him. Or else."
The guard trailed off, nodding toward me.
They all knew what it meant—the increased workload was my fault.
As realization dawned, the prisoners’ eyes turned feral.
‘Look at these bastards.’
The murderous tension spread like wildfire, as if they’d made a pact. Was this another scheme? A staged riot to kill me?
Warden Clark’s intentions were nakedly obvious.
Knights prattle about honor, but it’s all lies. No wonder he’s rotting in this backwater prison—a perfect fit for his petty schemes.
The legendary knights from Last Savior I knew would’ve spat on him.
"Ahem. Let’s take a smoke break."
Guards deliberately stepped back, feigning ignorance.
An unspoken green light. The pack circled me and Liu, unrestrained.
"So the warden sanctioned this?"
"Open your eyes—they want him dead."
"Kill him today, or they’ll double the work again tomorrow."
Whether they hated me or not, my death meant their survival. Clark had engineered it perfectly.
I sighed, shaking my head.
"I get it. You’ve got no choice."
"Don’t blame us—blame your Arahant blood and being a damned mage."
"Then understand my position. I won’t die quietly."
"Pfft—still playing the mighty mage? You’re a half-penny fraud."
"......"
Rage flared as the ‘0’ mana stat flickered above me.
Even now, 0 mana for a mage? That’s just cruel.
"Perfect. I needed punching bags anyway."
The orange jumpsuit mob closed in, deaf to my words.
Liu crouched, muttering, "Picked the wrong side..."
Adrenaline surged—a tension I hadn’t felt in ages.
How strong are these stats? Not real-world level, but…
I’d been itching to find out.
"Stop stalling. Come at me. Now."
"Kill him already!"
I lunged as Liu covered his head.
Thud!
A right hook. A left uppercut.
A spinning kick pivoting on my right foot.
Every strike landed exactly as intended.
"Yes! This is it!"
Dodging blows. Crushing ribs. The addictive rush of pushing limits—this was why I’d embraced combat.
I craved strong foes, prayed for worthy challengers.
"Come harder!"
"Guh—!"
I’d fantasized about this in the Octagon—fighting waves, not single opponents.
"More! Again!"
"Ugh!"
This—the raw intensity, heart hammering like it’d burst—was what I’d sought.
A game to battle foes nonexistent in reality. Now I was the game.
"More!"
Here, surrounded by strength, I wasn’t some stagnant champion.
I was the challenger, clawing from the bottom.
The thrill of it nearly shattered my restraint.
