I forced myself to breathe slowly, keeping my heart rate perfectly steady. Beneath the panic-stricken expression of a caught noble girl, my mind was entirely detached and analytical.
*This is fine, let them think I'm a junkie. As long as they see me as Miera, the disgraced addict girl, Zenni's identity is safe. If Zenni is completely disconnected from the bridge massacre, my position as Oksana's apprentice remains perfectly intact. And more importantly, nobody here has any clue that the legendary hunter Eirene Rynd is sitting right in front of them.
The knight didn't gentle his touch. He pulled out a thick, heavy anti-magic rope, wrapping it tightly around my wrists and wrenching the knots until the fibers bit deeply into my skin, clutching my hands together. With my actual physical strength, I could have snapped these bindings like dry twigs and collapsed his helmet with a single backhand. But I couldn't risk it. I let my knees buckle slightly, whimpering softly in Miera's voice to play the part of a fragile, defenseless addict.
He dragged me out into the cool midnight air, where a heavy, iron-barred jail carriage was already idling on the cobblestones. The back doors were thrown open, revealing a bleak, depressing sight. Inside, crammed together on the wooden floor, were nearly a dozen other individuals, all of them hollow-eyed, shivering, and wearing the ragged clothes of the Western District, their bodies trembling from Lotus Dust withdrawal.
The knight shoved me roughly into the back of the carriage, forcing me onto the floor alongside them. Before slamming the heavy iron gates shut, he leaned in, staring down at my pristine silver hair and the freshly stolen ivory academy uniform.
Ptu!
He spat a thick glob of saliva right at my boots, his face twisted in utter contempt.
"Look at you, a high-and-mighty academy student, wasting your talent and your family's status to crawl around the gutters with the rest of the scum. You aristocrats think you're untouchable, but in the dungeons, a junkie is just a junkie. Enjoy the cold stone, lass. It's exactly where you belong."
The heavy iron doors slammed shut with a deafening clang, and the rusted padlock clicked into place, plunging the interior into a dim, claustrophobic twilight.
With a harsh shout from the driver, the jail carriage lurched forward, the iron-rimmed wheels groaning as they began the long, bumpy trek down toward the city dungeons. Around me, the other addicts groaned and whimpered in the dark. I leaned my head against the cold iron bars, my mind already calculating my next move. I was locked in a cage, but as far as the world was concerned, the phantom student who slaughtered the Eastern Clan had completely vanished into thin air.
The jail carriage rattled violently over the uneven cobblestones of the lower districts. Every sharp turn caused the vehicle to tilt, sending a wave of nausea through the claustrophobic space. Several of the shivering drug addicts couldn't handle the motion and began to puke onto the wooden floorboards, the rancid smell mixing with the heavy, sweet scent of lingering Lotus Dust. I kept my face blank, leaning against the iron bars and breathing shallowly to block out the stench.
Finally, the carriage ground to a halt inside the courtyard of the main Knight Station. The heavy iron doors were thrown open, and the rude knight from earlier grabbed my bound wrists, dragging me roughly out into the cool night air.
He marched me down a flight of steep, damp stone steps leading straight into the belly of the station, the cellar dungeons. The air down here was thick with mold, sweat, and despair. The knight unlocked a massive iron-bar gate and shoved me inside a large, communal holding cell filled with the city's recent sweeps.
"Get in there with the rest of the garbage," the knight grunted, slamming the cell door shut behind me.
I stumbled slightly, playing the part of the fragile noble girl, and looked around the dimly lit cellar. It was packed with old men shivering in rags, low-life criminals, and hopeless addicts. But as my eyes adjusted to the flickering torchlight, my breath hitched. My mind completely short-circuited at the sheer absurdity of what I was looking at.
Sitting in the dimmest corner of the cell, huddled away from the others, was a boy wearing tattered slum clothes. He was frantically digging at the mortar between the stone wall blocks using nothing but a badly rusted spoon. I stared at his face. It was Zenni. The real, actual Zenni Roy.
My mind raced. If the real Zenni was caught by the knights and locked up down here the entire time, then who... or what... was the 'Zenni' body I've been inhabiting? The implications were staggering, but before I could even process it, a groaning sound drew my attention to the center of the cell.
There, rolling over and over on the dirty straw floor, was Josan, the arrogant nobleman student I had beaten senseless just this morning. His pristine uniform was ruined, his hair was a matted mess, and his eyes were bloodshot as he writhed in agony, desperately trying to clear the intoxicating fog of Lotus Dust from his withdrawal-racked mind.
And there I stood. A legendary bounty hunter trapped in the body of Miera, wearing a stolen, oversized female academy uniform, trapped in a cellar with the very boy I was impersonating and the rival I had humiliated hours prior.
Neither of them looked up at me yet. The real Zenni was too focused on his hopeless spoon-tunnel, and Josan was too busy fighting his own mind. I quietly backed up against the cold stone wall, keeping my bound hands hidden, entirely unsure of whether to laugh or panic at how beautifully chaotic my master plan had just become.
"Damn, this city is a wrecked place, Eirene." Plasma muttered
I stood perfectly still against the damp stone wall, while talking to Plasma… eh, actually myself, my mind racing as the sheer absurdity of the conversation unfolded right in front of me.
The real Zenni suddenly stopped scraping the wall with his rusted spoon. He wiped his sweaty forehead, turned his head, and his eyes locked right onto me in my Miera disguise.
"Hey, you girl! Yes, you in the academy uniform! Stop daydreaming and get over here! Help me dig this hole so we can get out before the morning shift guards arrive!"
Zenni hissed in a loud whisper, gesturing frantically with his spoon. Before I could even open my mouth to respond in Miera's voice, Josan rolled over on the dirty straw, clutching his pounding head. He glared at Zenni with bloodshot, furious eyes.
"Hey, you pathetic drug addict! Where's that arrogant attitude from this morning, huh? Where's your damn blood manipulation? Shut up about the spoon and use your magic to break us out of this mess! You're the one who humiliated me and beat me to a pulp earlier!"
Zenni stopped mid-scrape, turning to look at Josan like the nobleman had completely lost his mind. He let out a harsh, bewildered laugh.
"Beat you? Blood manipulation?! Are you out of your mind, you rich addict? My human skill is basic Light Magic, you absolute junkie! There ain't no way in hell I have blood manipulation! I've been locked in this miserable cellar for at least a full day, and I haven't even stepped foot inside that academy in a week! Are you completely delusional because of the low-grade Lotus Dust I sold you?!"
Josan snapped. He sat straight up in the straw, his face contorting in pure rage and confusion as he pointed a trembling finger at Zenni.
"Huh?! You didn't have blood manipulation?!" I remember everything that happened earlier today! My mind is perfectly clear! You took my girls, you mocked me in the courtyard, and then you threw a high-density blood sphere right at my face! I swear on my family name, I witnessed it! You're Zenni Roy!"
Zenni rolled his eyes so hard I thought they would get stuck. He aggressively pointed his rusted spoon at Josan's face.
"You're a literal addict, man. The dust has rotted your brain into seeing phantoms."
Then, Zenni snapped his gaze back to me, huffing in frustration.
"And you, silver-haired girl, don't just stand there like a statue! Get your hands over here and help me scrape this mortar!"
I just stood there in the shadows, maintaining Miera's timid, fragile expression while internally, my mind was putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
"So that's how it is, the real Zenni has been locked down here for a day. He's the one who sold Josan the drugs in the first place. That means the body I've been occupying, the 'Zenni' that won the duel against Garret and became Oksana's apprentice, isn't a real person at all. It's a completely artificial identity created by the Council's registry system, or a ghost body forged by my own shapeshifting magic without me realizing it." I realized, a cold wave of clarity washing over me.
It was the perfect alibi. If the real Zenni was stuck in a cell with a spoon, he couldn't possibly be the monster who slaughtered the Eastern Clan on the bridge tonight.
"I-I'm sorry, my hands are tied too tightly... I don't think I can help you dig…"
Zenni let out a heavy, irritated grunt, tossing his rusted spoon onto the dirt floor. He marched right up to me, his brow furrowed in deep annoyance.
"For god's sake, a beautiful girl like you, an academy student, and you're just another hopeless drug addict. What a waste."
Despite his harsh words, he reached down and began picking at the tight knots of the anti-magic rope binding my wrists, it's the same material that the magic damping chains have. With a sharp tug, the heavy fibers slackened, and the rope fell away from my hands.
"There. Now get your head straight and…"
"Thanks," I murmured, cutting him off.
I stretched my wrists, my mind already moving to the next phase. I need to leave. Now. The knights would be doing roll-calls soon, and the Western District station was getting too crowded. But I couldn't escape in Miera's body wearing a stolen female uniform, I needed to shift back into a male student persona to navigate the academy dorms tonight.
My eyes locked onto Josan, who was still groaning in the straw. His gold-trimmed ivory uniform was torn and stained from his withdrawal pacing, but to an bounty hunter, that was nothing. I could easily reconstruct the fabric using precision sewing later if I had a few spare minutes.
Leaving a bewildered Zenni standing there, I walked right over to the shivering nobleman. I leaned down, my soft Miera facade completely evaporating as I spoke in a low, terrifyingly calm voice.
"Hey, brat. Strip your clothes off. Do it now, and I will use my blood manipulation to get us both out of here."
The word blood manipulation hit Josan like a lightning bolt. His bloodshot eyes snapped wide open, staring up at Miera's face, but his drug-addled mind finally connected the dots to the entity standing behind the illusion.
"You… It's you! You're the one from this morning! You ruined my life! You took my harem! You humiliated me in front of everyone! I will kill you! I will ki…"
"THWACK!"
Before he could finish his tantrum and alert the guards outside, I brought my boot down in a swift, brutal kick straight to his jaw. The blunt force bounced his head off the stone wall, snapping his mouth shut and knocking him out cold instantly. He slumped back into the straw, completely unconscious.
"Sorry, Josan. No time for a rematch," I muttered.
With practiced efficiency, I began stripping the ivory and gold uniform off his limp body.
"Hey! Hey, girl! What the hell are you doing?! Are you completely delusional?! You're stripping Josan's clothes in the middle of a prison cell! Have the drugs entirely rotted your brain?!" Zenni shouted from across the cell, his jaw dropping as he scrambled backward.
I didn't say another word to him. I had the uniform, now I needed the exit.
I turned toward the back wall of the cellar, right where Zenni had been pointlessly scraping away with his spoon. My eyes scanned the masonry until I spotted a specific, slightly weathered sandstone brick. It was structurally weaker than the granite blocks surrounding it, not even a challenge compared to the hardened dungeons I usually raided.
I pulled back my fist, channeled a micro-fraction of my physical strength, and drove a solid punch straight into the center of the sandstone.
SHATTER!
The brick exploded into dust and gravel under my knuckles, instantly blowing a gaping, torso-sized hole straight through the outer wall of the cellar, revealing the dark, foggy alleyway of the Western District outside. Cold night air rushed into the damp room.
The entire cell went dead silent. Zenni froze, his rusted spoon slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor. The old men and low-life criminals who had been ignoring us suddenly leaped to their feet, their eyes wide with manic realization.
"A breakout! The wall is open!" one of the criminals yelled.
Before Zenni or the guards down the hall could even process what had happened, a chaotic stampede of prisoners rushed the opening, shoving past each other to dive through the shattered brickwork into the night. I blended into the frantic crowd, holding Josan's uniform tightly against my chest as I vaulted through the breach and vanished into the foggy midnight streets, leaving the real Zenni and a naked, unconscious Josan to deal with the incoming knights.