Have I Somehow Discovered The Easter Egg...

It was already in late hours. Most of them had already sunk into a deep, dreamless sleep, exhausted from the gruelling day. After completing their near-impossible quotas, sleep was their only salvation—a brief, precious escape from the harsh reality that ruled their lives. No one wasted a second on anything else. No conversations, no hobbies. Here, sleep was the only thing that still kept them sane.

Life in this place was brutal, devoid of joy or purpose. Any talk of hobbies or leisure would only deepen their despair, reminding them of a future they knew they'd never have. For them, sleep was more than rest—it was freedom. The only time they could escape the crushing weight of this reality.

The rule was simple: you could only sleep after completing your quota. But the mornings were non-negotiable. It didn't matter how much sleep you got or how tired you were. You had to finish your work and wake up at the designated time.

None of them had seen sunlight in months—some even in years. Yet, each morning, they were forced to rise, perfectly at seven it is, and do it all over again.

That was the way of things here.

But tonight, two figures still remained, lagging behind. They hadn't finished their quotas yet. Digging, continuing the same lifeless action, like machines set on autopilot. The sight of their sluggish pace drew a frown from the observing manager, but he didn't really care enough to intervene. 

As one of them was barely alive—so frail he looked like a walking corpse. It wouldn't be surprising if his remains were used as fertiliser by tomorrow. The other, though far healthier, was a newcomer. Maybe his mind was still caught up in thought, not yet accepted his fate.

"Very possible in the early days," the manager muttered to himself, confirming there was nothing out of the ordinary. Without a second thought, he followed his usual routine, heading inside his dorm. He was just as exhausted as the rest, eager to end another dull, boring day.

As the manager turned his back, Asuka's gaze locked onto his retreating figure. His eyes narrowed with focus, waiting for the right moment. Once the manager was out of sight, Asuka gave a quick, subtle nod to the muscular man beside him. Hinting to be prepared.

The moment the manager disappeared into his dorm, the guards began preparing to leave. Their shift was now nearly over.

Sensing the right opportunity, Asuka moved toward the washroom area, slowly and looking natural slipped into one of the empty toilets.

It marked the end of the plan's second step.

The plan was quite simple:

Wait for the manager to leave. Head for the toilet near the cave's exit. Take down the guards stationed there. Escape. Figure out the rest later. 'Please my plot armor.'

After a few tense minutes, the muscular man followed. He approached the toilet door, giving it a light knock. Asuka responded immediately, his calm voice cutting through the silence.

"Are you ready? We don't have time."

Despite the urgency, Asuka remained unnervingly composed. 

"Yes!" 

Asuka quickly opened the toilet door. This was it—Finally, the moment they had been waiting for. The most important part of the plan, and also the most dangerous. From here on, they had to tread carefully.

He pointed silently toward the stairs leading to the exit. With a determined nod, the muscular man followed closely behind. Up close, his imposing build and quiet confidence made Asuka feel slightly more assured.

This might actually work.

Asuka's mind raced. 'It has to be a sneak attack. A sharp drop of blood should just do the job.'

They needed to strike before the guards could spot them and before the alarm could be raised. Silently, they crept closer, and Asuka began preparing his skill: Blood Manipulation.

His veins tightened, his body growing tense as his blood began to respond. The power required for the skill started to drain him rapidly, pulling at his very essence.

Just then, a small laugh broke the silence. Asuka turned sharply toward the source—it was the muscular man. His face was flushed, and he looked like he was barely holding it in.

"Your face," the man snickered, "you look like you're constipated."

"Shut up," 

Blood Manipulation didn't create blood in itself, it merely controlled what was already there, manipulating its flow and volume based on the user's mastery and mana. The problem was, that Asuka needed enough blood for the skill to work in the first place.

Asuka struggled, his body barely hanging on. Blood manipulation required either the user's blood or the opponent's, but in Asuka's case, he was too weak. He lacked the mana, the blood, and the mastery to make it work. He was barely alive as it was, and even drawing a single drop was nearly impossible.

Unlike the usual protagonists in stories who somehow unlock hidden powers at the perfect moment, Asuka had no such luck. Reality had always been cruel to him, and today was no different. He had long accepted that there was no plot armour in his reality.

"Ahh, fuck life," he muttered, a lifeless, but still audible voice escaping his lips.

"Hold on. I'll handle it myself," the muscular man said with a mocking grin. "You've barely got one drop of blood left in that undead-like body of yours. Now you want me to carry your corpse too?"

With those words, the man stood tall and moved forward, his shoulders squared as if he were taking a leisurely stroll through his own backyard.

"That idiot," Asuka mumbled, watching the man's casual approach toward the guards. But soon, he felt his body relax at the man's next words. 

"Just wait and watch."

Asuka wasn't sure what to make of it. How could a fellow slave—a powerless nobody, just like him—be so confident? He had read the entire novel and had never encountered such a character. This man shouldn't have been anyone of significance.

So why was Asuka's body instinctively relieved?

Had he unconsciously accepted his fate?

... His questions were soon answered.

The muscular man stopped just a meter away from the guards, extending his hand without a word.

"Who the hell is this idiot? Just shoot him. No one's gonna care if one more fool dies," one of the guards sneered, his sharp, frustrated eyes locking onto the man.

They drew their guns, ready to pull the trigger, but before they could fire, the muscular man's palm clenched into a fist.

In an instant, both guards' bodies exploded, bursting like fireworks. Blood splattered across the exit area, painting everything in blood red. Bones and flesh scattered everywhere, yet the entire scene was disturbingly silent.

Asuka stared, his eyes wide open at the blood carnage.

"If you were that capable, why are you even here?"