BZZT!
"Warning: You are using excessive kinetic force against a citizen! This is a prohibited action!"
Before Ash could even react, a glowing red interface flooded his vision, with warning messages cascading like a waterfall. A high-pitched alarm pierced his ears, leaving him momentarily stunned.
What the hell is going on?
Did I get hacked?
But I haven't even visited any shady websites yet!
His body froze up, completely immobilized for three long seconds before he regained control.
"Well, Ash, it seems like you're really enjoying life here in Fragmented Lake Prison. I'll leave you to it," Igula said with a smirk, casually moving aside the fist that had nearly grazed his nose. "By the way, that punch of yours—soft as a pillow—was quite adorable."
The other inmates glanced their way, and even the warden briefly looked up from his hologram, but after a moment, everyone lost interest, as if this scuffle was nothing worth noting.
Watching Igula's retreating figure disappear down the corridor, Ash stared at his own fist, utterly baffled.
"What's so surprising?" came the calm, slightly mocking voice of the Sword Maiden beside him. "That chip in your neck detected your intent to assault someone and sent a neural shockwave through your system to stop you. It's a standard procedure for inmates here. The same tech is widely used in livestock management, though it seems far more effective on humans."
"Then why did you tell me to hit him?"
"Because, even in a place where combat is restricted, there are still... subtler moves one can make."
The Sword Maiden leaned casually against the wall. "For instance, contracts formed through spirit negotiation. That guy—if I'm not mistaken—has some siren blood in him. Sirens are particularly gifted in mind-affinity abilities. If you'd accepted his handshake, it would've bound you to a 'mutual assistance' contract. But in this context, 'mutual assistance' means you're required to help him, while his help for you would be entirely optional. In the eyes of a mental mage, the line between 'friend' and 'slave' is pretty thin."
Ash shivered as he realized how close he'd come to becoming Igula's unpaid intern.
This world's so underhanded, he thought bitterly. They don't even need labor contracts!
Ash glanced around the hall, his gaze falling on the other inmates. "So... no one else can see you?"
"You're free to talk to me like this," the Sword Maiden said with a bored yawn. "Of course, don't be surprised when everyone starts avoiding you like the plague, thinking you've gone insane."
Ash processed that for a moment, his voice dropping to a mutter. "So you really are the Berserk Sword Maiden?"
"Yep, that's me," she replied nonchalantly. "But you? Observer, I didn't expect to see you in a place like this... mind if I laugh at you?"
"Very much. But why aren't you wearing your in-game outfit?"
"Oh, and you think your chic little prisoner jumpsuit matches your character's splash art?" she retorted, rolling her eyes. "Look at you, criticizing me when you're the one who doesn't even look like himself. You expect me to wear the same outfit every day? I'm a woman, Ash. I have standards."
Ash was thoroughly defeated by her irrefutable logic.
But he quickly moved past it, his eyes lighting up with hope. "Sword Maiden A-Dream, now that you're here, help me escape this prison!"
"I refuse."
"What?!"
"Why would I help you escape?" she replied, stretching lazily. "You've got food, shelter—this place suits someone as useless as you perfectly. Why are you so eager to leave? For all you know, the outside world could be even worse. Just retire early, live your dream of lazing around... isn't that your ideal life?"
"Are you kidding me?! I've been framed! I'm facing something called the 'Blood Moon Trial' soon, and I seriously doubt it's a buffet invitation!"
"Oh, the Blood Moon Trial..." The Sword Maiden's lips curled into a sly grin. "Yeah, now I definitely don't want to help you."
Ash felt his composure crumbling. He thought he'd finally snagged a golden opportunity—a powerful ally—only to have it yanked away. "You can't do this! I'm your—"
"My what?" The Sword Maiden's gaze sharpened dangerously as she poked his forehead, her tone icy. "Go on, say it. What are you to me? Hmm? Hmm? Hmm?"
Each poke forced Ash back a step until he collapsed onto a bench. Even leaning back as far as he could, he couldn't avoid her relentless finger. She leaned closer, their noses nearly touching, her wine-red eyes glaring straight into his soul.
"Did you want to say you're my... master?" she hissed, her tone dripping with scorn. "What, you were hoping I'd moan a few lines and fuel whatever perverted fantasies you've got in that sick little brain of yours?"
Ash steeled himself, sitting up straight despite her oppressive aura. "What's wrong with that? You're a virtual character, and I'm the player. If I die, you won't exist anymore. We're bound by that connection. So why won't you help me?"
The mention of the word "bond" made the Sword Maiden's expression darken instantly, her pupils narrowing as crimson veins spread across her irises.
Ash flinched but held his ground. "Berserk Sword Maiden, I'm not your master. But I'm not your servant either. If you can't even treat me as an equal, then you might as well vanish back into the game and stay a stream of useless data."
Her chest heaved with restrained anger. Just as Ash thought she was about to clobber him, she suddenly broke into a smile. "A virtual character, huh? Fair enough. I am just a fleeting thought, after all... but, Observer, you'd better remember what you just said."
Her voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "You're not my master. You'll never be my master."
Ash nodded firmly. "I swear."
"Swear it properly. Say, 'May I lose my face and live in shame for ten thousand years if I lie.'"
Though unsure why she was so adamant, Ash complied without hesitation. "I swear, may I lose my face and live in shame for ten thousand years if I lie."
She seemed satisfied, turning away. "Alright, let's go."
"Go where?" Ash perked up.
"To the cafeteria. You're starving, aren't you?"
"What about escaping?!"
"Let's be honest—I can't help you. I'm invisible to everyone but you. I can't touch anything in the physical world. How exactly am I supposed to help you escape?"
Ash deflated. "Then why are you even here? Showing off your new outfit?"
"Well, like you said, bonding." She smirked. "I'm here to transfer that 30% shared experience to you."
"Really?!" Ash lit up. "Hit me with it!"
"Yeah, no," she said with a scoff. "What do you think this is? Some magical ding where you instantly inherit my skills? If you want that, go dream about it in your cell."
"Then how does it work?"
"Simple. Pick a fight. I'll guide you during the battle, and you'll naturally gain loads of experience."
"Got it!"
They arrived at the cafeteria. It looked like a typical mess hall with fixed seating. Ash's eyes immediately locked onto his first target: a bald, tattooed, scar-faced musclehead who practically screamed dangerous criminal.
Feigning nonchalance, Ash "accidentally" knocked over the man's cup of milk, splattering it all over his pristine boots.
"Oh no," Ash drawled sarcastically. "My bad."
The man slowly looked up, his gaze dark and menacing. He slammed a hand on the table, making it quake. Ash gulped, bracing himself for his first brawl.
But instead of lunging, the man pulled a napkin from his pocket, crouched down, and calmly wiped his boots clean.
"Watch where you're going next time, yeah? Oh, and the milk today's great. Highly recommend it," the man said casually, leaving Ash utterly speechless.