Chapter 18
And like a wilted flower, the prisoner collapsed in front of me, his tongue drooping out.
He had narrowly escaped death.
“Ugh. The smell of blood.”
I was gasping for breath, still gripping the frying pan, when Ian suddenly wrinkled his nose and pinched it shut with his fingers. All the monsters were now dead.
While I knocked out a single prisoner with my frying pan, the two men had taken care of everything else.
* * *
“…What was that just now?”
Even when I asked, neither man answered easily.
The three of us had somehow ended up back in the Central Control Room on the 4th floor. A heavy silence lingered between us. Deon, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, stared silently at the CCTV screens. Even Ian, who had been playful at first, wore a serious expression.
“Shh.”
Ian raised a finger to his lips.
Slouched on the sofa, he too was watching the CCTV carefully. It wasn’t over yet. On the other side of the steel door, the prisoners howled like beasts, clawing at the metal with their nails.
Had they come back to life? Or were new ones approaching?
As I sat in a corner with my eyes closed from exhaustion, the spine-chilling scraping finally stopped. Ian let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.
“Lemoni. What the hell are those things?”
Of course, I had no idea.
“I’m not sure either. But weren’t those prisoners just now?”
“Yeah, but with that kind of temper? They’d either be top-level criminals or already executed.”
He had a point.
With nothing to say, I bit my lip in frustration.
I’d never seen anything like this in the original work. Things had strayed far too much. At this rate, all the information I knew as someone who had transmigrated would be useless.
“There is something strange, though.”
Those monsters’ eyes… they were exactly like Yvonne’s eyes we saw earlier.
I sat naturally on the sofa and pulled a slip of paper from my pocket. I had drawn the pattern I saw on Yvonne, just in case.
“Yvonne’s eyes—just like the prisoners’. And when I checked her clothes, I found this mark on her neck.”
“…This is…”
Ian frowned at the note, but then a low, firm voice interrupted.
“Berserk syndrome.”
All eyes turned to Deon. Still watching the CCTV, he spoke in a detached tone.
“…That’s the symbol from the berserk potion. It’s a warning sign—drink it and you’ll turn into a monster. Just a few drops will boost physical power, but drink too much and you’re done.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve had it.”
Silence fell.
His flat answer made something click in me, and I quickly masked my expression.
So, the reason he followed me up to the 4th floor so willingly… was because of the berserk potion. Probably so he could kill me when the time was right.
I’d expected it, but hearing it from him still felt… strange.
“So those prisoners were showing symptoms of berserk syndrome… but a mass outbreak like that? Even I, as a guard, didn’t know about it.”
Even knowing he overheard, I pretended not to. His gaze on me grew more intense, as if surprised.
But it seemed he chose to let it go.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on in this prison, but with this many infected, things are going to spiral out of control soon.”
What?
“If someone infected bites or gets saliva on someone else, they turn too. Like rabies. And once someone goes berserk, they lose all reason.”
Ian tilted his head.
“So what’s left?”
“Instinct.”
“Instinct?”
“The primal instincts buried deep in the subconscious.”
Deon’s words brought a chill over the room. I crossed my arms, suddenly cold.
“Most just bite and destroy whatever they see. In rare cases—like with strong maternal instincts—they obsess over their children.”
They bite and destroy indiscriminately.
His explanation made me nod unconsciously. Their behavior had definitely been abnormal. And according to the dead guard’s journal I read earlier, Lemoni had known something before the incident began.
But I didn’t know what this Lemoni had been thinking.
“Deon. Before things got this bad in the prison… did I do anything strange?”
I asked, thinking he might know something. But he didn’t respond.
As I turned to ask again, my eyes froze.
His piercing red gaze, as cold as ice, was fixed on me.
“What you just said… is strange.”
“…Huh?”
“What are you trying to say?”
Ah.
I realized too late—I’d touched Deon’s sensitive wound. Our relationship was tangled with hatred and resentment. It began in the past, and I had just triggered his trauma like it was nothing.
I felt constricted.
“I just…”
“You’re Lemoni Christina.”
“I’m sorry. But that’s not what I meant to say right now…”
“You’re still Lemoni Christina. Even if you quit being a guard and become a noble, to me, you’ll never be more than that.”
His already cold tone turned even colder.
Without realizing, I’d gripped the whistle so tightly that it left a mark on my chin. I was sorry for triggering his trauma—but this was an emergency.
“I understand. But I want you to remember—I have command magic.”
Deon scoffed at that, pushing himself off the wall.
“It might not be a command. It might end up as a plea.”
What?
Before I could ask, he strode across the room and flung open the control room door.
Immediately, prisoners poured in and began sinking their teeth into his thick neck and shoulders.
“De… Deon…”
I was so shocked, I couldn’t even scream. My heart pounded, trying to flee the scene on its own.
I froze in place, staring as Deon’s gaze—blocking the door—gradually shifted into something inhuman. He was going berserk.
“Deon, why are you…”
My heel hit the wall as I backed away.
Screeeeech. One of the prisoners let out a shriek and reached through Deon’s shoulder gap. But his face stayed cold and indifferent.
“Deon. Close the door.”
He’s insane. Absolutely insane.
“Deon! Snap out of it and close the damn door! The prisoners are getting in!”
As I screamed hoarsely and blew the whistle, Deon finally moved, shoving the prisoners back and slamming the door shut.
The sudden silence was heavy.
His massive, bleeding hand locked the door firmly. He turned toward me.
“Now do you understand, guard?”
There were claw marks across his thick neck and jaw, and despite his blank expression, there was a crushing pressure behind his gaze.
“You’d better be careful with that damn whistle.”
My trembling hand finally stopped.
Then—
“Don’t move.”
The back door swung open, and a blinding light slammed into our faces. Like a police flashlight aimed at a thief.
“You talk too much for a prisoner. A prisoner must obey the guard’s orders without question.”
I squinted from the brightness, but the voice was firm—and sharp footsteps followed.
What now?
As my eyes adjusted, I saw several uniformed guards moving in perfect formation. And at the center—
“But I guess none of that matters anymore.”
A grim-looking male guard sighed, scanning us up and down.
“Right now, it’s not about guards or prisoners. It’s about who survives.”
His voice, rough as if he’d swallowed metal, and his intense aura told me exactly who he was.
Rob Tiger.
Ian’s designated guard and one of the main villains who first goes head-to-head with the protagonists.
* * *
“You ran here from Block B?”
Meeting Rob Tiger was a stroke of luck for me.
His weathered eyes didn’t match the strong physique beneath them. He brushed his short blond hair and asked me,
“…I didn’t even know those monsters existed. But I think they were clustered in Block C.”
By some miracle, we were rescued and now followed the guards down the corridor. Deon and Ian, who had been wary at first, realized even the other prisoners among the guards were working together—and followed quietly.
“What in the world happened?”
I glanced back at the two men following and asked Rob.
He was silent for a moment.
“I’m not sure. I only know it started with one.”
As we walked together—both top-class guards—his face darkened.
“A prisoner stumbled up to us like he’d chugged a whole enhancement potion. At first, we thought he was just crazy, so we moved in to knock him out. But then he bit a fellow guard’s neck like a wild animal.”
“…And then it spread?”
“Exactly.”
We passed the 4th and 5th floors and continued toward the 7th. Thinking we were there, I glanced around, but a guard ahead gestured for me to go higher.
“By the way, did you see Yvonne’s corpse?”
“Yes.”
I nodded, climbing the stairs to the 8th floor. It hadn’t been described in the original story, but the sunlight growing stronger suggested we were headed for the rooftop.
“If you saw Yvonne, then you must realize this prison is no longer under control.”
With a tsk, Rob turned, and the fortress-like steel door creaked open. I winced unconsciously, but the sky was overcast—there was no need.
“Then allow me to welcome you properly.”
Resting an elbow on the stone parapet, Rob spread one arm with a wry smile.
“Welcome to hell, Lemoni.”
I followed the others onto the rooftop—and slowly opened my mouth and eyes wide.
A monstrous creature flew past us with a horrifying screech, soaring through the sky between Rob and me.
Frozen, I stared grimly at the scene below.
Hell wasn’t Deon threatening me.
Hell was where the mindless ran wild.
That… was hell.
