TRPM 191

A few hours after I finished breakfast.

Mirae Yeon and I arrived at Ieodo, Korea’s only prison island.

“Artist! Geom-hwa! It’s an honor to meet you!”

A man who introduced himself as the warden of the prison island greeted us like that.

Hearing the warden, Yeon Mirae murmured, “…So you knew we were coming?”

“The navy ship we took probably notified you in advance,” I replied.

We had arrived on a naval vessel from Jeju, so they’d have been informed ahead of time. The navy and the prison island belong to different organizations, but the Jeju naval forces and the prison island are tightly linked; there must be systems for mutual communication.

—After all, to get on or off the prison island you generally have to use a Jeju navy ship, like we did.

I’d heard that when prison guards go on leave or when visitors come to see inmates, they too undergo strict checks and travel by navy transport. The island needs supplies, and the navy handles those deliveries—ordinary civilian boats would likely be sunk by sea monsters.

“Yes. We were notified by the navy. May I ask the purpose of your visit?” the warden asked.

“For inspection, for now,” I said.

The warden nodded as if satisfied.

“If the Artist says so, there must be a reason,” he said.

His sudden deference threw me off for a second, but I didn’t show it and asked, “May we go inside?”

“Of course. For ordinary guests we allow only the visitation area for safety reasons…,” he began.

Then he paused, shook his head, and continued, “But if it’s the two of you, you’d be able to protect yourselves even if inmates attacked you. And since you said ‘inspection,’ I don’t have the authority to refuse.”

Technically we weren’t inspectors, but the warden emphasized the word ‘inspection’ as he led us into the prison.

“To your left from here is the warehouse. It mainly stores supplies for guards and inmates,” he explained.

“Supplies for inmates?” Yeon Mirae asked, surprised. Maybe she didn’t know how the prison island operated.

The warden laughed. “Many people assume inmates here have no human rights. But aside from the risk to life from fighting monsters, there are few prisons in the world—prison islands or prison ships included—that treat inmates as well as we do.”

Yeon Mirae looked like she hadn’t quite understood that, so I filled in the gaps.

“The inmates housed here are definitely people who deserve capital punishment for their crimes. But at the same time, they are basically people who stand on the front lines defending the country.”

From the prison island’s perspective, it’s best if inmates live as long as possible and keep fighting monsters. So the administration tends to accommodate inmates’ requests—within reason.

“Of course, they’re still criminals. Normally their abilities are restricted and they wear restraint collars that allow guards to take their lives if needed,” the warden said. “Additionally, those collars have functions for emergency situations—electric shocks for punishment, sedative injection, location tracking, and so on.”

…That part I didn’t know. And is it really something he should be telling us out loud?

The warden continued, “I thought you should know how the prison operates. And as Aura Masters, you two could access any records about this island at will.”

With their authority, they probably could view information even I, the warden, wouldn’t normally see, he implied.

“Of course, even though we generally honor inmates’ requests, anything that could cause danger won’t be allowed.”

That was obvious—this is a prison after all.

“Oh, we’re here. This is the combat hall,” the warden said as we stopped at a door. A guard stationed at the door pressed a button and opened it.

Beep!
Clack.

An alarm blared and the door opened. Yeon Mirae and I followed the warden inside. When she saw what lay beyond, Mirae gasped.

“…Wow.”

“It seems this is the first time Geom-hwa has seen hundreds of Awakened fighting monsters at once,” the warden observed.

Monsters that never stopped coming in waves. A strange machine emitting eerie waves that seemed to attract the monsters. The inmates fighting to stop them.

“Haha! That’s a big one! Doing nicely today, aren’t you?!” someone shouted. “How about pork belly for dinner?!” “Sounds good! Wagers on, of course!”

The inmates were cracking jokes while slaying monsters. Presumably the island required certain performance to grant inmates anything—either the island rewarded victories, or the inmates could earn real money like in other prisons.

“Our island lures monsters with those machines, and inmates are sent to fight them. The machines are well-protected by powerful barriers—unless a very strong monster attacks, they won’t break even if inmates manage to get through,” the warden explained.

Indeed, the monster-luring devices were guarded by strong seals. Even powerful Awakened trying to damage them would be resisted to some degree.

“And the guards observe from safe locations to make sure inmates don’t act up. If they do, we use the functions I mentioned earlier, or we suppress their abilities.”

On a battlefield where monsters keep pouring in, anyone acting recklessly would almost certainly die. That’s why inmates don’t mess around here—they want to survive.

“I see some who look a bit worn out… how long do they work in the combat hall each day?” I asked.

“We operate six hours a day across five shifts, though the hall runs 24 hours unless there’s a problem. Each inmate enters the hall once or twice every two days,” he answered.

Hmm… so it’s basically staffed around the clock. The place is almost never empty, then.

“But is that safe? I heard there’s a superhuman here with output like a grand mage. If that person enters combat…,” Mirae began.

“Oh, you mean that person,” the warden said, his expression tightening.

“It’s been about twenty years. Such powerful individuals aren’t deployed to these battles. Even with a restraint collar, there’s no guarantee they can be controlled.”

Instead, they’d attached numerous restraints to make it impossible for the person to use their power, and imprisoned them on the lowest level of the facility.

“By the way, do you see the equipment the guards are holding?” the warden asked.

I had been silent, so he pointed at the guards’ weapons. They looked nothing like ordinary arms. And yet I felt a strange energy emanating from them—the resource Awakened usually use for powers… mental energy.

“These devices use mental energy as a resource. They’re charged by extracting the mental energy of the superhuman housed on the lowest level of this island.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Mirae asked.

“Surprisingly, no. Extracting energy from civilian Awakened is illegal, but extracting energy from an Awakened in prison is legal,” I replied.

I didn’t know what kind of logic produced such a law, but there were conditions—only for certain criminals who met criteria like committing very severe crimes. The Awakened in the lowest level met those conditions.

(…According to Albatross PMC, they’re framed, but that’s another story.)

Anyway.

“Could we see somewhere else?” I asked.

“Ah, yes. This way, then…”

It seemed unlikely Albatross PMC would try to infiltrate the island through the combat hall. Albatross PMC preferred stealth; they wouldn’t try to break into a place staffed 24/7 and teeming with combat between monsters and humans. They’d attempt a covert infiltration where no one noticed.

I thought, Albatross PMC will need to find a place to infiltrate.

With that in mind I asked the warden to show us other areas.

According to a low-level Albatross PMC employee who spoke with me, they were planning to recruit several inmates from this island as their hires. Those inmates, he said, were people who had been framed or black ops agents abandoned by the government…

Whether that was true or false, I couldn’t say for certain.

Frankly, I don’t trust Albatross PMC. They are certainly hostile to Oracle, but that doesn’t make them righteous. Thinking about what they’ve done makes me uneasy. They admit that some of their actions were wrong, but they claim a small PMC had no choice but to act as they did to survive against the giant organization Oracle.

I understand their logic, but I don’t sympathize.

So I’m not exactly Albatross PMC’s enemy, but I don’t see them as a full ally either. Maurice Reynolds, the leader of Albatross PMC, must know that.

And even if—according to them—some inmates were framed and imprisoned, there’s no guarantee that those freed with Albatross’s help wouldn’t turn against Korea.

Simple truth: people framed or abandoned by their country wouldn’t love the nation that locked them away. They’d have grown resentful fighting monsters daily on the island. No matter how well the prison accommodated them, releasing them could lead to revenge against Korea.

That’s why—

“Maurice, I’m going to stop your plan,” I decided.

This might make Albatross PMC and I outright enemies. It might pit me against Richard, the chairman of the World Awakened Association, who stands behind them. Despite the risk, I intended to prevent Albatross PMC’s plan.