Chereads / Realm Wanderers: Birth of the Abyssal Monarch / Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 – Setting The Escape Plan

Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 – Setting The Escape Plan

Dion stood across Professor Ivy on the soft, fighting ring with a skeptical look in his eyes. Different fighting gym equipment occupied various places in the room. They were dressed in a tight pair of gym clothes, accentuating Dion's abs and Ivy's curvy figure.

"Can you stop looking at me like that? Why can't you trust me a little? I attended military training for a while." She placed her hands on her waist with a pout.

"Action speaks louder than words. So, you should start the training. Besides, I want fully trained or at least retired personnel. Not a…" Dion's eyes roamed her body with hidden mockery, "half-baked, inexperienced, underage, little girl who learned judo or is it Kung Fu, to teach me."

Ivy's forehead creased in anger but quickly relaxed with a wicked smile playing on her lips. Her eyes narrowed with a mischievous glint flashing through them.

"Let's settle our skepticism. You doubt my training and prowess, while I doubt you can handle my training. So, if you can drop me to the floor, then I will give you the address of a retired military trainer."

Dion's eyes widened as he examined the person talking. Apart from her fit body, Dion who had experienced street fights to some extent saw that he could flip her in two seconds. One arm is enough.

"Scared now?" Ivy taunted.

Dion shook her head and sprinted towards her.

When he reached in front of her, he stretched his hands to pick her up. That was the last thing he remembered before pain assaulted his back.

When he opened his eyes, he looked at Ivy with an agape mouth. With her small frame, she flipped him effortlessly like he weighed nothing.

Dion slowly stood but the eyes he gave her changed.

"Fine. You convinced me that you are a good fighter. But what I want to learn is how to escape a chain shackle," Dion said calmly.

"Chain shackle?" Ivy arched an eyebrow.

"It's just a bet with somebody but it's really important to me. Do you know how to do that?" Dion said offhandedly, trying not to display his nervousness.

With one hand on her waist, Ivy tapped her lips rhythmically with her index finger like she was in deep thought.

After a moment of silence, Ivy began explaining, "There are many ways to escape a shackle depending on the type of shackle. Slipping out of it is the most popular way, especially handcuffs; you just dislocate your thumb and wriggle your hands out of them. Getting bruises is inevitable. But that's illegal against the cops, so don't try the stunt."

Ivy continued, "Another way is the use of pins. Some experienced individuals can use pins to unlock cuffs and locks. That needs numerous practice to become proficient though. Lastly, a few cuffs have weak points. You just apply enough force on the weak point and they get to break off."

Dion looked at her with wide eyes. "Why do I feel a kind of villainous vibes from you?"

Ivy protested fiercely, "I told you I'm a trained military lady. You never believed me," before she continued calmly, "but it all depends on the cuff type."

"But I said shackle not cuff," Dion corrected.

"Who uses shackles in this century?" Ivy retorted. But she still added, "If you get me the shackle type, then I can be precise in instructing you how to escape out of it."

Dion nodded and swiftly ran out of the gym.

"Where are you going?"

But Dion didn't reply.

Eight minutes later, he returned while breathing hard with a heavy iron shackle that had two-finger thick chains attached to it.

"T-this," Dion struggled to speak while breathing hard.

Ivy's jaw dropped.

She stuttered, "I thought it was just some BDS–My mouth! But who would tie a person in those? Are they trying to persecute you?"

'Worse than that.' Dion did not say it out loud.

"If this shackle gets tied to your wrist, wriggling out is going to be difficult. Searching for weakness, like the weak link in the chain should be possible. The pin method would have worked fine but it has to be a strong pin," she said after much thought.

"What if you have nothing?" Dion hurriedly asked.

Ivy explained professionally, "For an active approach, this is a long and gradual one though. You can weaken a link by constantly pulling the chain against a particular link. Of course, you need to be extremely powerful to do it and sometimes you might never get out with this method."

"Passive approach will be safer and faster. That is to wait until the person who has the key comes close. If not, wait for somebody who has an iron that can fit the keyholes. Snatch it sneakily and open the lock but I'm not teaching you those."

Dion became lost in thought but he tried to remember if that man came with keys.

'I don't think I can survive and endure the torture anymore. So that active approach, which is risky and long, is out. Those chains won't bulge with my strength. That leaves me with the passive approach. My jailer should have the key attached to the bundle of keys he wears on his belt. So getting the keys should be difficult but not impossible.'

His eyes narrowed. 'But there is a big issue. He must use the key to lock my cell when he's done with me. This means… I need to get the key, remove the one for my lock, and then return the key to his pocket or side while being tied and without alarming him. Difficult. Too difficult. Many things need to be in my favor for this stunt to work. All the conditions need to be right. Luck, skill, speed, and stealth. That's just escaping the shackle. Escaping the underground cell–'

"Dion, are you okay?" Ivy's voice snapped him from his thoughts.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he replied calmly.

"I called you but you seem to be lost in thought. You have been zoning out since we left your home." Ivy did not believe him.

"Just a little private issue," Dion brushed it off.

Ivy finally snapped at his way of brushing off issues. "Private issue this. Private issue that. The next thing I will see is your corpse. If you don't talk to somebody, nobody will help you. You need to learn to talk about your problem with others. I know you hate communicating with others but what about me? How long have we known each other? Before you entered college. And then private what?" She stared at him softly with caring eyes.

'But you helped me already,' Dion thought.

"Alright, teach me the real deal. Some 'piu piu piu'." Dion threw his fist in the air, trying to change the topic and the already sour atmosphere.

Ivy looked at him for a moment but did not press on with the topic. "How many days do you want to learn?"

"Three days."

That's where his limit lies in enduring the torture.

"Well, let's begin with the punching bag."

Ivy led him to the punching bag.

"See how I do it." Ivy took her stance and threw a punch at the punching bag making Dion flinch.

"I pity her husband," Dion muttered.

"I heard that," she snarled at Dion before saying calmly, "Take your position."

Dion stood before the punching bag but she yelled at him professionally, "Incorrect posture. Stand like this…"

"Lazy bum. Take a deep breath."

"Kick like you've eaten."

"Hell, are you trying to catch a chicken? Squat properly."

The training continued with Ivy yelling most time to correct Dion.

They were walking home after the strenuous training.

Dion felt all his muscles aching.

When they reached their street with few people walking to their various destinations, Dion raised his head and looked at the setting sun. All his pores constricted in horror. His legs felt like jelly. He unconsciously flinched.

"Are you okay?" Ivy quickly asked.

"Y-yes. I'm good. Let's go."

Soon they reached his house.

"Thanks for today and Goodbye," Dion smiled with strain before unlocking his door.

"Remember to come to school tomorrow. The Dean is taking no excuses if you miss school tomorrow."

Dion nodded lightly, his mind thinking of something else.

When he entered his room, Dion took a quick shower before sitting on his reading chair.

First, he took a cup of coffee.

Followed by medicines, and lastly, the special chocolate he bought to combat sleep. Then Dion began playing games. Sleep was never in his night schedule.

However, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.

Fatigue from the day's activity and the special sleeping syndrome began setting in. Dizziness slowly encroached on his mind and body.

Fear and anxiety gripped him but that was not enough to chase the sleep. His eyes kept closing. He was about to doze off but he forcefully jolted himself awake. Things continued that way until he couldn't fight against the dizziness.

'Damn!'

That was his last thought before he slept off.