Nouvelle Vague, a place abandoned by the world.
Even in this remote area 10,000 meters below the sea, there is only one day when it is warm.
It was Christmas at the end of the year.
Rune's birthday. Out of 365 days a year, prisoners are allowed only one day off.
Meals are also different.
Instead of the usual sour pickled sardines and black bread as hard as a brick, pork jerky and soft white bread are served.
For the first time in a long time, the prisoners ate together in a proper dining hall rather than on the floor of a workhouse.
Candles burned on lead candlesticks and meat and bread were brought into the gloomy shadowed room.
The guards did not interfere much on this day as they kept their weapons behind their backs and stood at a distance.
The prisoners were happy as if they had everything in the world, even with tough, savory pork jerky and half-dry white bread.
"I survived for a year just looking at this day."
"It's good to be alive."
"I pity the people who died yesterday the most. Tsk tsk tsk-"
at that time.
"Krrrrr… … "Get out of here."
Level 8 inmate glances.
When he thrust his huge body at him, the prisoners hurriedly got up and got out of the way.
This was because I was afraid of his poison, which had not been disinfected even after three sulfur showers.
"Did you hear? "That bastard said he couldn't control his own plague."
"that's right. "They say that if you come in contact with that guy's spit or blood-like saliva, you will definitely contract the plague."
"Look at that spot on your skin. "Whether it's poison or plague, it's really unpleasant."
However, Shikkeot did not pay attention to the gazes of the prisoners around him.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Those idiots. I don't know about people who were forcibly brought here like you! I walked into this place with my own feet! And someday I'll get out of here! "I am saying that my queen will take such action!"
I've been saying this for two years.
At first, it was a sincere nuance of belittling others, but as time went by, something bordering on madness began to appear in his words.
And now it's sounding like some kind of shady spell.
The prisoners who saw him spitting and talking passionately frowned or got scared.
But one thing was the same for everyone: they were reluctant to go to Sikkeok's side.
Before we knew it, an empty circle had formed in the restaurant with Sikkeot at the center.
Only then did he smile with satisfaction and sit down to chew pork jerky and white bread.
… … But?
Suddenly, I felt someone coming from behind me.
one person. Only one prisoner sat there without leaving his seat.
It was Bikir.
Shikkeot asked as if it were absurd.
"Kid. "Aren't you afraid of my plague?"
"… … ."
Bikir didn't bother to answer.
If he found out that Madame's poison, which was much more terrifying than the plague, was flowing through Vikir's veins, he would probably faint.
Clatter-clack-clack-
Bikir finished his meal quietly.
It was a meal with a very different atmosphere from the Christmas we spent at Colosseo Academy.
at that time.
I could hear several prisoners gathered at the table in front and whispering.
"… … Really?"
"Because it's real. "It was in tatters because the guards looked at it all."
"Wow - did you really get that?"
"Hehehehehe- You can pick up a lot of things while cleaning the bathroom septic tank. "There are more things that are better than you think."
From what I heard, it seemed like a prisoner who was cleaning the bathroom septic tank had picked up something good.
Bikir, who thought it might be something like cigarettes, watches, gambling equipment, or cheap drugs, quickly tried to get his attention.
However, Bikir soon had no choice but to prick up his ears.
"Wow, that's awesome. "You're picking up 'newspapers.'"
newspaper. The only way to receive news from the world here in Nouvelle Vague!
Newspapers are considered extremely valuable items in the Nouvelle Vague.
Common sense tells us that it takes an incredibly long journey for these few pieces of paper to reach the Nouvelle Vague.
Unless it is brought in by guards who go to the surface on extremely rare occasions, receiving newspapers on a regular basis is nothing more than a dreamy luxury.
However, among the guards and prisoners, there are always those who desperately seek news from the ground.
Bikir was one of them.
Grumble-
Bikir pushed back his chair and approached the prisoners who were talking.
"hey."
When Bikir spoke out, the prisoners who were busy talking among themselves were startled.
"Yes, yes!"
They are the prisoners of Level One. They are low-sentence prisoners who can get out if they last three years in this living hell.
However, because they were weak and weak, most of them lived like insects and died before even living for a year.
To put it bluntly, if Bikir, an inmate of Level Nine, gets upset and causes a commotion, they will die.
But Bikir did not bother to raise his voice.
"Even if you keep things like newspapers, it will only cause trouble. A treasure you cannot afford is like a curse."
"… … ."
"How about trading it for this?"
What Bikir held out was a bag of black bread that he had received as a prize some time ago.
The prisoners' eyes shook when they saw that.
Bikir seduced in a coy voice.
"I guess you guys would have read everything in the newspaper anyway."
"Oh, I haven't seen it yet… … Actually, it's because I have dark eyes."
"Then, after I see it, I will tell you about it. how is it?"
If so, it is a transaction that there is no reason to refuse.
The prisoner hesitated and then took out a neatly folded piece of yellow paper from his pocket.
"It smells a bit because it was pulled out from among the dung lumps. Hehehe-"
Bikir gave the bread and received a piece of newspaper.
Even at first glance, the newspaper was not in good condition.
Most of it was torn, so the only intact parts were the first and second pages, and even then, there were many parts where the letters were blurred or torn, so only the headline was legible.
What was most disappointing was that the date was stamped as much as six months ago.
'There was a time when I used to read newspapers before they were even published.'
It was a refreshing feeling to see that the newspapers that I had created so tiresomely during the days of the 'Lukeion' newspaper department at the Colosseo Academy, and that could be seen before publication, were being treated with such precious respect (even if they were from 6 months ago!).
Palak-
Bikir studied the newspaper carefully.
[inside… ] … Palace guard, attack... all
-The Usher family… A mysterious attack... Great damage… Investigating authorities suspect... Specific to one person... Victim Madeline... slander… There is no danger to life...
[Exclusive] Changhae… A, the damage from the successive attacks...
-Don Quixote… Another question… attack… Count of Passamonte... Gyeongsang… Investigating authorities suspect... Specific to one person... Presumed to be the same person...
[Exclusive] Suspect of murder, assassination suspect arrested...
-Leviathan... Gaju Hobbs attacked... Due to the recent surge in monsters... Throughout the Leviathan family's territory… A series of unidentified gates and strange dungeons appear... An empire-wide thorough investigation begins... Night hunting group... Suspicious organization... The situation is bad...
It was brief and brief, but you can get a general idea.
The first and second pages usually feature the biggest events in society as a whole, so I was able to get a glimpse of what was going on on the ground.
'The Usher family, Don Quixote family, and Leviathan family were attacked one after another. One attacker? Who is it.'
Bikir, who was reading the article, noticed one place.
'… … A series of unidentified gates and strange dungeons appear.'
In addition, there were also strange keywords such as night hounds, but the content that came before caught Vikir's nerves.
'The Sipsan City guys have started their activities in earnest.'
Gate of destruction. It was already showing signs of opening.
No, considering this article is already 6 months old... … .
'I guess I'll have to hurry.'
The era of destruction will come sooner.
It is probably the butterfly effect brought about by Bikir's efforts to eliminate the Tensangsi and the messages he left to Cindy Wendy and Isabella before being imprisoned in the Nouvelle Vague.
'I've always seen you during my time at the academy. You are not a villain. That much is certain.'
'After looking at the actual situation of the demons who had just infiltrated right in front of me, I now know everything for sure. You must live. 'Why did I realize this only now!'
'As soon as I return, I will show the demons as evidence and request a retrial.'
'There was an order from the head of the family to break you out, Bikir, even if it means sinking the ship.'
The strict Banshee Professor, the single-minded Archbishop Mozgus, Lovebad, whom I had never known, and even the family's hunting dog, Count Isabella.
Considering the final attitude of the Morgue, Quo Vadis, Bourgeois, and Baskerville convoys, it was possible to get a rough idea of what would have happened between the seven great families after Vikir went to the Nouvelle Vague.
'I can understand why the Sipsanshi bastards are hastily trying to open the door of destruction.'
It is probably a political and strategic decision.
Because they operate not with human common sense, but with the common sense of the devil.
… widely!
Bikir closed the newspaper and washed his hands in the water falling from the ceiling.
'More information from the outside is needed.'
There is no use looking for newspapers when you don't know when they will be available.
There is only one surefire way to obtain information about the outside world.
'I have no choice but to go directly to the outside world.'
The core purpose of entering Nouvelle Vague, 'Poseidon', has already been found.
With that alone, we can say that we have achieved more than 90% of our goal.
Bikir began to feel bothered by the heavy restraints on his wrists and ankles.
'… … There's no need to wear this prison uniform anymore.'
The dawn of the prison break was dawning in earnest