I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

After navigating the twists and turns, accelerating and decelerating, he arrived at the familiar elevator shaft ten seconds later.

Before noon today, he had already "borrowed" the elevator card and key to the control room from Barton. It's hard to imagine how a key card related to prison security could be handed over to an idiot. Clearly, Randolph was being too presumptuous in this regard.

Perhaps a wealthy young man like Anthony didn't understand the workings of this system, but as a former member of the Kazimierz military, Gerald knew the concept of the control room for a moving plot of land.

As a mobile platform powered by Originium, almost all other facilities rely on electricity. The main control room can not only shut down and restore power to facilities in emergencies, but also controls the braking authority of the mobile platform. Its function is equivalent to the command tower in a mobile city, automatically detecting changes in Originium concentration near the platform and adjusting its direction accordingly.

To give an analogy, similar to the automatic cruise system of Gerald's previous life's aircraft, the pilot's main role during the journey is monitoring, and the system can automatically adjust the route based on real-time wind speed and weather information.

Natural disasters refer to malfunctions and accidents encountered by an aircraft during flight, requiring operational adjustments to change the flight conditions.

Therefore, if you don't want the connection between the moving platform and the city to be cut off during a prison break, causing you to fall from the wilderness dozens or even hundreds of meters high, you must take control of the control room before everyone else.

Without hesitation, Gerald pried open the elevator doors, quickly surveyed the surroundings, and leaped up, firmly grabbing a foothold on the inner wall. He then used the momentum to swing his body upwards, lightly stepping on each landing point, and in an instant, he shot upwards like an arrow.

Repeating this process is much faster than taking an elevator. After all, in the initial plan, during a power outage, one would have to climb an elevator shaft to reach the control room, just like he is doing now.

When Gerald climbed to the top, a square-shaped door appeared before him. He inserted the key and the door opened quickly.

A gust of wind, carrying a lot of dust and a rough, dry smell, rushed towards us.

He frowned and rushed to the control room.

……No.

Everything else is included, such as the methods mentioned in the drawings for sinking the tower and cutting off the power.

But the most crucial thing, which should have been present here, has vanished without a trace.

The employee responsible for monitoring the operation of the mobile module, and—

The core system responsible for adjusting the routes of moving sections.

--------

In the infirmary on the other side, Duma was quietly carrying everything she had accumulated in the past on her body.

She had a water lily seed in the upper pocket of her clothes, and a few candies that Gerald had given her on her birthday in the other pocket.

Although she didn't eat it, she carefully placed this first-ever birthday gift from a friend into a specimen bag as a keepsake.

Anthony taught her how to write letters, and he once suggested that having a pen pal would be a good way to learn about the outside world and everything else.

She sent many letters to the Colombian Pen Pal Association, but due to the special circumstances in Mansfield, replies were often delayed, making communication extremely difficult.

But the original reply she received is still in the right pocket of her clothes.

Tucked inside the lining were several letters left to her by her father; the elegant handwriting made it hard to believe they came from the pen of a prison doctor.

My father often mentioned this when he was alive. After all, he was the only doctor in the prison, so he could write prescriptions and letters however he wanted, which only highlighted his unconventionality.

The books she had read were all neatly placed on the bookshelf. Although it was a pity that she couldn't take them with her, the thought that she would be able to see more books from now on eased her worries.

This is her world.

There was once only one person in the world besides her, then slowly she was the only one left, but later several other people appeared.

Life, learning, growing up, death.

Politeness, patience, maturity, and self-discipline.

Tough, firm, composed, and determined.

She has grown up.

She needs to take a step forward.

As the lights in the medical room flickered on and off, the emergency backup lights came on, and the door was kicked open along with her thoughts.

"Ah, good afternoon, Miss Duma. I hope our uninvited visit won't cause you... or your companions too much trouble."

A slow, deliberate voice rang out as the door fell to the ground.

A man in a prison guard uniform, Jeston Williams, led a group of prisoners and arrived at Mansfield's infirmary a step ahead of the others.

……

"...How did you know about our plan?"

The moment she saw the man, Duma instinctively grabbed the staff beside her, which gave her a sense of security again.

"Are you serious? Even I have to say, your actions are far too blatant, as if you have no intention of hiding at all."

Jeston slowly walked forward, but after only one step, Duma pointed her staff at the man in front of her.

He helplessly raised his hands: "Fine, fine, what can I say, Doctor? You don't really think your procedure will work on me—"

The indigo light didn't even wait for Jeston to finish speaking before the Originium Arts on the staff grazed Jeston's scalp in an instant, even though he reacted instinctively.

Turning around, I saw that two of the prisoners I had brought with me had been hit directly by the sudden attack and had instantly fallen to the ground unconscious.

On the other side, Duma gradually adapted from his initial unfamiliarity. In the blink of an eye, several more flashes of light swept by, and the prisoners brought by Jeston were wiped out—perhaps just like the first sentence spoken by the Victoria Guard Academy when it started its classes.

Only a fool would stupidly charge forward with their sword in hand when they see the other person has a staff.

Of course, this statement has a limiting condition.

The difference in strength between the two sides cannot be too great, and neither side can be at the top level.

Jeston can't do the latter, but the former clearly meets current standards.

Another spell came from Duma's direction, but this time he was not unprepared—a metal plate suddenly grew from beneath his skin, covering his entire arm. This newly grown iron acted as a shield, deflecting the spell from a distance.

“I already said it,” Jeston said, catching his breath before nervously uttering his next line: “Your spell has no effect on me.”

"..."

Duma was silent for a while. The current situation was not suitable for forcing things to continue. It was better to wait until Anthony and the others arrived.

So she spoke up and said, "You're the one who wanted to kill Anthony?"

“Oh, that’s a very clever move, Miss Duma. I also think that stalling for time is a good strategy.”

Jeston nodded with appreciation. "Unfortunately, I don't believe Anthony would hide anything about me from you. Although it's a gamble with some risk, I'm fully confident in his actions."

"After all, he should know very well that if he really chooses to report, who can guarantee that I won't take some unexpected measures against his friends?"

"Just like this."

Jeston's figure rapidly approached Duma, the metal plate in his hand sculpted into the shape of a sword blade, and then, at the instant he was close to Duma—

He heard the whisper of the wind.

The wind that had been hovering over Duma transformed into a flexible rope, instantly wrapping around Jeston.

He had plenty of time to react, and Jeston naturally covered his entire body with iron, since who could know if this was another form of Originium Arts?

But this attempt was ultimately futile.

The wind would penetrate every tiny crack, then tear everything apart like a razor blade; even Saria's enamel could not withstand this sudden internal collapse.

Just a second later, the metal on Jeston's body disintegrated into dust in mid-air.

What awaited him next was a spell from the warlock at close range, delivered without reservation.

And a staff made of D32 steel, delivered with full force from top to bottom in a slashing motion.

……

When the three rushed to the door of the infirmary, the open door made their hearts tighten.

Anthony rushed into the infirmary at lightning speed, his footsteps even kicking up a bit of dust from the floor. His gaze quickly swept across the room, finally stopping at the innermost part—

Duma, panting heavily while holding his staff, and Jeston, hanging in the air in a bizarre posture, swaying his head.

Kafka and Robin, who were hurrying behind, were speechless when they saw the scene before them.

It wasn't until Saria, who was in charge of bringing up the rear, finally arrived and gently touched their backs that the two of them seemed to wake up from a dream and rushed to Duma's side.

"Duma!" Kafka stepped over the bodies of the prisoners lying haphazardly on the ground and walked to the doctor who was catching his breath. "Are you alright? Did that guy named Jeston hurt you?!"

“I…I’m fine.” Duma shook his head. “It’s just that his head is really tough…I hit him several times and he didn’t pass out. And there’s something wrong with the metal plate under his skin. My Originium Arts didn’t have much effect on him. Instead, he’s been acting crazy ever since.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Jeston, who was tied up in the air and caught a glimpse of Saria out of the corner of his eye, suddenly became excited and slurred:

"Chief of the Defense Department of Rhine Lab, Seria!"

"I... I've always harbored a tiny bit of doubt about whether you're truly stronger than me—"

boom.

Saria, who was passing by, casually punched Jeston unconscious and calmly explained to Duma, "This is a composite metal implant from Rhine Labs. Without specialized training, Originium Arts will have their effectiveness reduced. But being able to defeat these people on your own is enough to demonstrate your excellence."

"oh oh."

Duma was dazed by the sudden turn of events. Although Gerald had warned them that others would come to help with the escape, this was the first time he had actually seen them.

Meanwhile, Kafka's mind started racing. Both he and Robin stared curiously at Saria: "So, this guy named Jeston is actually from Rhine Lab?"

"No, he doesn't belong to Rhine Lab. He probably found the implantation method on the black market in Colombia and ended up looking like this."

Although Seria actually knew her.

As one of the few resumes handed to her, she could tell from just a glance at the content that the person was complacent and lacked perseverance.

But to lose to a doctor who has never been exposed to the outside world, even with Gerald's Originium Arts, is enough to make her ashamed to talk about her past—it's utterly humiliating.

This topic was quickly moved on.

"Get out of the dug underground passage as soon as possible," Saria said to the group, glancing in the direction of the morgue. "Once we reach the docking area, someone will come to meet you, and you'll be in safety very quickly. The sooner the better; the prison guards have already begun their operation."

Her response was a unanimous nod from everyone, and a single sentence from Duma:

"That, that."

Saria's gaze made her tremble involuntarily, and for a moment she almost forgot what she wanted to say.

Once the adrenaline and anxiety subsided, the tension returned, taking over her ability to speak, just as it always has.

But today is a new beginning worth celebrating.

The person hanging in the air told her that her life wouldn't begin to change until she stepped out of the prison—her life had already changed long ago.

"Please pass on a message to Gerald."

Duma spoke slowly, but firmly.

"I will wait for everyone to come back, and then we will go together to see the moment when the water lilies bloom."

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Bayonets Need No Dragging Around (4K)

"—That's what she said."

Saria glanced silently at Pegasus beside her, choosing to ignore the pride emanating from him and his "How about it?" expression.

As she continued on her journey, she couldn't help but reflect on the first half of her life.

It seems she has never had the ability to influence her friends in a way that is visible to the naked eye, making them better.

Christen remained the same person, single-mindedly pursuing truth and indifferent to the masses; there were only misunderstandings and conflicts between Himer and her, which she had never even tried to resolve; Ifrit... it seemed that she really hadn't done anything for that child, perhaps not even worthy of being called a role model.

Ferdinand's behind-the-scenes actions are escalating; Palvis also acted extremely outrageously during the Balrog incident; Muirses has been making some strange moves lately; and Nasti, after seeing her last time, suddenly removed the tunnel boring machine from the procurement list, claiming that she alone could replace its function—

No, how did it turn into a complaint?

"Wake up, Saria." Gerald looked at the absent-minded Saria with a puzzled expression and gently patted her shoulder. "It's rare for you to be distracted in a situation like this."

"...I just briefly recalled the past."

She quickly regained her composure and focused her attention on the target in front of her. "You said before that there was no core system in the control room responsible for adjusting the route?"

“Yes.” Gerald quickly regained his serious demeanor. “Two possibilities: the main control room originally had this system, but it was later moved elsewhere; or there is a separate area outside Mansfield specifically for monitoring.”

"If it's the latter, we'll have little chance of dealing with it, because even my wind can't detect this place."

"But if it is the former, the most likely possibility is that it is hidden in the hidden area of ​​the power layer we are about to travel to."

At this moment, the two of them shared the same question.

why?

Using the same example of an airplane, the captain's cockpit has the best view and can respond to any crisis that may occur at any time.

The same applies to the main control room. For mobile modules that even a messenger of natural disasters cannot catch up with, ensuring that there are no natural disasters in the surrounding sky at all times is a principle that must be followed. Therefore, every time it is spliced ​​together with other mobile cities, relevant personnel are responsible for inspection and maintenance.

If the core system is to be placed underground, then such a visible control room may just be a front for inspection purposes.