Ch.3Chapter 3 – Escape (1)

The priest took me to the dock along with three others.

They clearly told me not to memorize the path, but I had no intention of listening to that.

If I wanted to escape from here, memorizing the terrain was essential.

Among what I remembered so far, I knew this was an island, but I couldn’t properly recall anything beyond this place.

It seemed the priest’s warning not to memorize the path was the cause.

Passing through the wall, I followed the path down while noting the scattered trees and rocks, until armed people appeared, giving a brief bow to the priest as we passed by, approaching a boat tied to a post.

“Well then, shall we head to the port?”

At his words, the others simultaneously untied the ropes and each grabbed an oar to move the boat.

While rowing, I decided to check my own memories again.

I remember how many family members I originally had and how they were structured.

I recall the address of where I lived, but not the country.

I remember being over twenty, but I’m not sure if I’m in my early or mid-twenties. Definitely not thirty. That’s certain.

I didn’t have a girlfriend. Why do I remember that so clearly?

And my name.

I can’t remember it.

Next, the situations I remember.

I recalled everything that happened after I opened my eyes here. The days I moved like a machine.

Here, as I probed my memories further, I could easily tell that wasn’t all I remembered.

I also remembered losing consciousness after eating something at a convenience store.

And then, opening my eyes in green liquid, trying to peek outside to escape, when a platinum-haired man suddenly looked in my direction, and the container next to me split in two, killing someone.

And suffering through what seemed like human experimentation, feeling terrified as I felt my memories slipping away.

I felt there were other lost memories or blank spaces, but I could at least tell that I had been on the island before the day I thought I first opened my eyes here.

I quietly observed the priest.

He was humming a tune at the bow, seemingly pleased about leaving the island.

‘Should I hit him on the head with an oar?’

I had never steered a boat before coming here, but seeing myself rowing now made it clear they had messed with my head for their convenience.

Looking at the priest’s physique, it was obvious he’d collapse after rowing just a few times.

Kill him?

I considered for about 10 seconds whether I could hit him on the head with the oar and instantly throw him into the sea.

In the end, I had to give up.

First, there was the problem of having other test subjects right beside and behind me.

They might be fellow test subjects in the same situation, but they’d die at the priest’s command without hesitation.

If the priest asked for help, they’d attack me without reservation.

After getting beaten up last time, I was certain that while one-on-one might be manageable, facing multiple opponents should be avoided at all costs.

Among those moving the boat, one was a woman, one was a muscular man, and another was a kid who somehow had physical specs not much different from mine.

I had to be patient for now.

After rowing for a while, we arrived at the port.

Wooden boats floating here and there gave the impression of a medieval harbor.

‘I’m not even tired.’

Clearly, thanks to my strengthened body, I was fine despite rowing quite a bit.

Somehow my body knew how to head toward the port even though the priest didn’t give any specific directions.

That fact made me want to secretly mock the priest.

‘Always looking for convenience, what will become of you?’

“Number 5, Number 8, Number 13. Come here.”

The priest suddenly called, so I quietly approached.

I was startled, thinking he’d caught me criticizing him in my mind.

“You two go to the church and pick up what’s written here.”

The priest said, pulling out a paper from his robe.

He told us to bring it to the boat, then disappeared toward the port.

He seemed to be taking one person as an escort.

She was the only woman in our group.

‘…Damn it.’

I wanted to go beat him up even if it meant being caught with my transparent intentions.

It saddened me that I had to pretend otherwise, fearing the departing pair might suspect something and report it.

Looking at the paper the priest gave me, I noticed one more thing.

‘I can read it.’

Come to think of it, I remembered not understanding the language when I first opened my eyes here.

I didn’t know what language it was, and the same goes for this script.

Now I could understand and read everything.

Thinking about it, I had answered the priest’s questions before, so the language barrier was gone.

The unfamiliar script, the priests casting what looked like magic circles, and the scenery I was seeing while moving around—all of it made me finally accept one thing.

‘This is like another world.’

I had been unable to accept it due to how unrealistic it seemed, but now I had to.

Before, I had bizarre thoughts about some cosplay human trafficking ring, but that would have been almost cute in comparison.

‘…Well, human trafficking isn’t cute either.’

I couldn’t have some fortune teller in a horror story telling my parents “Your son is somewhere in the world.”

Though telling them “He’s alive as a test subject for fanatics in another world” would be just as serious.

Lost in these useless thoughts, I arrived at the church.

Standing still, the other man knocked on the door.

“What is it?”

A man who looked like a pastor came out, and when we showed him the paper, he sighed and went back inside.

“It’s heavy, could you come in and carry it yourselves?”

At those words, we went inside and found nine large boxes.

Seeing the contents, I understood why the pastor had sighed.

‘Why so many bottles of alcohol?’

There were bottles with unknown labels, herbs, and many other things, but also lots of alcohol.

How did I know they were alcohol? Because they were labeled.

They weren’t that heavy for me, but that was because of my strength—they would be heavy for the pastor.

As I carried the boxes out, I glanced at a corner of the basement.

There was a toolbox.

Just as the two others had gone outside with their loads, I quickly approached to examine it.

Tools like hammers and saws were covered in dust, seemingly abandoned for a long time.

‘This could be useful…’

I thought they might be useful for escape, but I wasn’t sure how to hide them.

There were also small ropes and nails inside, but just taking these…

I quickly looked behind me.

Feeling I didn’t have much time to deliberate, I lifted my robe and pants and quickly tied the rope against my bare skin.

I thought that no matter how dangerous it was, if I didn’t act when an opportunity presented itself, things would get more complicated later when I needed these items.

After carrying all the boxes, I saw the priest returning drunk from wherever he’d been.

Seeing him arrive after all the work was done, I thought his skill at slacking off was impressive.

“Well… *hic*… let’s go…”

His tongue was completely twisted.

As we boarded the boat, I seriously considered faking an accident to push him overboard.

He was so drunk, it might look like he fell in on his own.

Eventually, the priest lost his balance and fell into the sea, and immediately another person jumped in to rescue him.

Seeing that, I just licked my lips in disappointment.

Judging by how quickly they jumped in, they would rescue him no matter how many times he fell.

With regret, I continued on, and by the time we arrived, the sun was almost setting.

“Ah, damn, the arena is over for today.”

He started walking with unsteady steps.

Soon we arrived at the laboratory, where everyone else was floating in their containers.

“Get in quickly, my head hurts.”

Then don’t drink.

Even in his drunken state, the priest seemed intent on staying until everyone was inside.

‘Unnecessarily professional.’

I quickly glanced around to check if the priest was watching.

I quietly examined the structure of the container.

Seeing a hose-like object extending upward, I secretly reached out to touch it.

It felt slightly wet and soft.

With a thought of “maybe…” I pulled up my leg, took out the nail I had taken earlier.

The priest hadn’t noticed yet, but feeling I would seem suspicious if I didn’t enter the container soon, I stuck the nail into the hose and entered the water.

When morning came again, electricity flowed through as usual.

I wanted to grumble about finding a more decent way to wake us up.

Strangely, my head felt clearer than yesterday.

Nothing particular had happened, yet it felt that way.

I briefly wondered if I was gradually returning to my former self as time passed.

Deciding to analyze that later, I continued with what I needed to do.

I untied the rope and items from my leg and placed them slightly on top of the container.

Keeping them tied or on the floor seemed too risky.

I would have preferred to hide them in some false bottom or similar hiding place, but I couldn’t find such a spot, and I had never seen the scientists check the top of the containers, so it was my only option.

As I came out, I saw the nail from yesterday was still firmly stuck in the hose-like object.

‘I hope my guess was right.’

I had stuck the nail in partly to hide it and partly because of a thought I had when touching the hose, but if my guess was wrong, I’d need to find another hiding place.

From the moment I brought those items in, it was already decided.

The problem was that this place had no personal space or suitable hiding spots, which was why I could only place those things on top of the container.

I needed to prepare for escape as quickly as possible.

With that thought, I joined the others in formation and headed to the arena.

The atmosphere at the arena was different.

The priests’ excitement wasn’t palpable.

‘It’s strangely quiet.’

Usually noisy with curses and excitement, it was now quiet.

I wanted to look outside but feared drawing attention, when the priest entered.

“Assemble at the arena.”

Thinking I’d soon find out what was happening, I went out.

Soon, standing in formation at the arena, I could see what was different.

An arrogant-looking elderly man was standing on the second floor.

He wore elaborate clothes and, though aged, seemed more middle-aged than elderly.

The priests were showing him respect.

The man who commanded our group spoke.

“Show respect to the Bishop.”

The man they called Bishop.

‘It’s him.’

He was one of the men I had seen when I first arrived here.