NOVEL WEB Chapter 7: Escape
Even though these supervisors spent their days bossing around and abusing the workers, they weren't any better. They were ordinary people trapped in this miserable factory, gripped by fear when faced with real danger.
Maybe letting him live wouldn't be such a huge risk. The man could keep quiet for the rest of his life and pretend he'd never seen Asmon. Perhaps sparing him, even at the last moment before escaping, would be an act of mercy. With that thought, Asmon slowly pulled the trigger again.
Bang!
At the same time as his noise-dampening magic flashed, the trembling supervisor slowly collapsed backward. Asmon fixed his gaze on the horrified expression—the look of shock that hadn't yet grasped his fate—and memorized it. There was no regret.
Despite what his heart might have felt, his cold, calculating mage's mind had already made up its mind. No loose ends would be left behind. Unlike the dormitory supervisor he had knocked out earlier, these men could not be spared. They already suspected something was off with the missing car keys and the issues at the parking lot. If they woke up before Asmon escaped and started searching, things would get very messy.
Asmon rifled through the fallen bodies and pulled out a wallet. Inside were banknotes, coins, several cards of unknown origin, and an ID—but not a single face he recognized. He wasn't exactly surprised; he'd long suspected that this wasn't Earth. But if it wasn't the world from his game, nor Earth, then what in the hell was this place? Confused, he didn't have time to dwell on it. He roughly gathered the money from the wallet and tossed the rest under the sofa. He'd thought about cleaning up the mess to remove traces, but the floor was already soaked in blood—it would take too long.
There was only one thing left to do. Asmon left the break room immediately, locked the door behind him, and headed straight for the underground parking lot via the nearby stairs.
In the dark, dusty lot, trucks parked by union members and various vehicles used by factory employees were haphazardly arranged. Asmon stooped low and moved stealthily between them, searching for the car whose identification number matched the one on the key. He found two vehicles with the same serial number: an old gray van and a sleek, glossy two-seater. The two-seater was fitted with mysterious mechanical devices that made its original design hard to guess. Praying the inconspicuous van wouldn't open, he tried both—but the key only worked on the two-seater.
There was no choice. He inserted the key, and the door opened onto leather seats that exuded a rich aroma. The exterior was impressive, but the interior was a jumble of gadgets and buttons, and the steering wheel was oddly rectangular. He slid the key into the slot beneath the wheel, started the engine, and immediately the dashboard lit up as the car began to vibrate gently.
Pressing the left pedal and shifting gears, the car slowly started moving forward. No matter how calm Asmon's mind was, at that moment his heart pounded like crazy. Finally, he was about to leave the factory—for the first time since arriving, he was leaving that shabby cell behind. Curiosity and wonder about the unknown world mingled with fear and anticipation, making his entire body tremble.
As he emerged from the underground parking lot and ascended to the surface, Asmon's eyes caught sight of a figure standing at the entrance. It was the unmistakable outline of the parking lot supervisor—a rugged man with a limping leg in the familiar work uniform. The sight of his familiar face calmed Asmon for a moment.
Then the supervisor started moving toward him. Having already killed two, what did it matter if there were three? Asmon quickly grabbed the pistol he had tossed onto the passenger seat, but then he realized a serious problem. There was no magical power left in his body to cast another noise-dampening spell. He had used his magic once to feign illness in the morning, once to stun a supervisor with "Bolt," and twice to silence the sound of gunfire. Even for a mage who had just awakened his power, that was an enormous toll—and in the current situation, utterly useless. Asmon cursed quietly, "It's because I used up all my power on the cigarettes."
Considering what magic could do, escaping this rundown factory with only four spells a day shouldn't have been so difficult. If he hadn't wasted his power on the lightning spell "Bolt" to stun that supervisor, Asmon wouldn't have drained his magic reserve so quickly. But it was too late for regrets now. Given some time, he might have recovered enough energy for at least one more spell—if only he had that luxury.
Just then, the approaching supervisor sidled up with a smug look, as if he knew exactly who owned the car. "Ed, are you out of your mind? Where do you think you're going in a situation like this? Even if you're itching for a fight, you've got to hold back on a day like today," he sneered as he pounded on the car's hood and moved toward the driver's seat.
"Save your car bragging for the weekend. If you want to hit the club, count me in… But who the hell are you?" he demanded.
The moment the supervisor caught sight of Asmon's face from inside the vehicle, his expression changed completely. Frantically fumbling at his belt as if searching for something, the supervisor barely had time to react before Asmon thrust the muzzle of his gun into his chest. "Ugh…!" the supervisor gasped.
"Drop your gun," Asmon ordered sharply. Startled, the supervisor dropped the pistol he was holding behind his back. Asmon glanced down at the discarded weapon and couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The man had given up without a fight—the gun wasn't even properly loaded. No matter how much he resisted, he wouldn't have been able to fire even one shot.
Staring into the terrified supervisor's eyes, Asmon said, "Is there a parking barrier up ahead?"
"Y-yes…" the supervisor stammered.
"Then shut it down," Asmon commanded. Trembling, the supervisor spun around and hurried into the guard booth near the parking lot entrance to fiddle with something. Sweating profusely, he nodded at Asmon as if pleading desperately. Asmon understood immediately: everyone craves survival. Beneath that hardened exterior and cool rationality, the supervisor wanted to live just as much as anyone else. But Asmon couldn't leave any loose ends behind.
BANG!!
A deafening gunshot shattered the air, echoing powerfully throughout the parking lot. As if it were a signal, Asmon slammed his foot off the brake. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he sped past the collapsing supervisor and floored the accelerator. And with that, Asmon finally fled the factory, his heart pounding with terror and exhilaration as he sped toward the unknown world beyond.