Episode 387 The Rotten Dog of Nouvelle Vague (3)

“You bastards! You want me to eat this? Are you crazy!?”

“How can anyone work in a place like this!”

“At least give us a break!”

“When are we going to see our families?”

“Prisoners are people! They have human rights!”

A group of prisoners on the first floor of Level 1 was making a ruckus.

They were Nouvelle Vague’s newest arrival, overnight pups who hadn’t yet adjusted to the ecosystem in the midst of the chaos.

“By the way, did you hear, there was an escape yesterday?”

“Nouvelle Vague is surprisingly not that special.”

“The guards are showing up for duty, and it looks like it’s full of holes.”

“They must be weak. Maybe I should try to break out.”

They were low-level prisoners that the guards were too busy to pay attention to, so they were lucky to be located in the blind spot of the military discipline, so they hadn’t yet grasped the atmosphere.


jeobeog- jeobeog- jeobeog- jeobeog-

The sound of military footsteps was loud and clear.

Prisoners at Level 1 could be organized by the hands of lower-ranked guards.

The guards, so-called lieutenants, lined up against the Level 1 prisoners.

Each had a club, sword, whip, or axe in their hands.

“……What, what are these deadly weapons?”

“Are you trying to kill us?”

“Are you crazy, you’re going to swing those things at us in handcuffs?”

“You guys are out of your mind…….”

The prisoners seemed to cower at the mere sight of the guards’ weapons.

That’s what you get for being a bunch of little chicks.

The major-ranked guard at the front spoke to the second lieutenant and lieutenant-ranked guards at the back.

“Listen carefully, the most riotous floor in the Nouvelle Vague is surprisingly Level 1, or Level 2.”

You know what you see. It’s an eternal truth.

In Nouvelle Vague, lower-level prisoners tend to riot more and higher-level prisoners tend to riot less.

This is because the higher-level prisoners feel the horrors of the place more deeply and live to tell the tale, while the lower-level prisoners think that they can be more fearless because they have no eyes to see.

“Especially those on Level 1, they don’t know what to expect. Especially the ones who are newer and less socialized, they will start riots, saying it’s a human right, an organized protest, or profanity.”

The lower-ranking guards listened calmly as their boss spoke.

The major smirked and continued.

“And we secretly condone, even encourage, riots on the lower levels, like Level 1 and Level 2. Sometimes, it is created artificially using planted insider. Although today was a spontaneous riot, it’s all for your practical experience.”

The Major’s words had a strange nuance to them.

It was a tone that simultaneously instilled confidence in the junior guards and intimidated the prisoners.

The prisoners stopped shouting and looked at each other, wondering if what they had done was actually the guards’ evil plan.

By the time they realized that there is a insider hiding inside, their cohesion had already broken down.

In the midst of it all, the Major drives a wedge.

“These are Level 1 prisoners, but they’re criminals who made a name for themselves on the ground, strong men who survived the transport to Nouvelle Vague and the entry process. They may be wearing BDISSEM handcuffs, but don’t let your guard down! Do you understand?”


The junior guards shouted in unison.

And with that, the bloody suppression began.

It was a common thing in Nouvelle Vague.

* * *

Blood and gore sprayed into the air.

The guards trampled and beat the prisoners senselessly with maces and clubs.

Even if they were low-level guards, they could easily surpass the level of the prisoners on Level 1 wearing the BDISSEM restraints.

“Hic! This is human rights abuse!”

“Human rights? Why are you looking for them 10,000 meters below the surface?”

One of the guards crushed the wailing prisoner’s face with a military boot.

Lieutenant Kirko. She raised her head without even wiping the blood splattered on her face.

Her cold, piercing gaze swept over the criminals.

“There is no such thing as human rights for you, you unredeemable scum. No human rights for you dark-haired beasts, parasitising on the social system that ordinary citizens have worked so hard to build, and threatening their very safety.”

Under Kirko’s gaze, the prisoners shrank like squid tossed over a flame.

Just then.


A chain slammed into Kirko’s back from behind.

A Level 1 prisoner in BDISSEM handcuffs and restraints glared at Kirko with bloodshot eyes.


A man with an impressive cross-shaped scar on his forehead.

“Hohoho- you know who I am, don’t you?”

He said confidently.

But Kirko only frowned as she touched her throbbing back.

“No. I have no idea.”

“What, you don’t know me?”

He gritted his teeth together, and then exclaimed.

“I’m Attendance Number 8…… No, I’m Pal Euspear, the ‘Monster of the Crossroads’!”

He was Pal Euspear, a prisoner who had been recently brought to Level 1.

If there was one thing that setted him apart from the other prisoners, it’s that he used to be a prestigious academy student.

He was a student at the Colosseo Academy, one of the best institutions in the empire, but at some point he fell into a life of crime and had been imprisoned here in Nouvelle Vague ever since.

‘Damn it. I messed with two high-ranking nobles inside the Hell Tree and got punished outside of it…… Who knew the Hell Tree would disappear so suddenly?’

He had been trapped inside the Hell Tree that had suddenly appeared in the Colosseo Academy.

He’d gotten off to a lucky start as all the old powers and hierarchies were reorganized, and with the stats and items he’d gained, he’d been able to take on the high-ranking children he’d never dared to look at before.

Especially Dolores. Euspear, who had been targeting her, had been building his notoriety by harming countless classmates, until suddenly the Hell Tree was gone and he was back in his original world.

“Damn it. I thought the Hell Tree would last forever…….”

Naturally, the many people who had been victimized by him in the tower never forgot that debt and repaid it.

After being expelled from school, Euspear fell into a life of crime and eventually ended up imprisoned here in Nouvelle Vague.

However, he had a decent amount of stats from his time in the Hell Tree, so he didn’t suffer too much of a loss in combat while wearing the BDISSEM restraints.

“Die, bitch!”

Euspear wrapped the chain around Kirko’s neck, slipping it between the cuffs on each wrist.


Kirko momentarily lost her grip on the longsword in her hand.

Kirko hadn’t expected a prisoner with this much strength on Level 1.

This guy should have been at least level 2, and at most level 3.

He must have been hiding his power all this time.


Kirko gritted her teeth and spun around.

But Euspear was determined, locking on to her and holding her down.

Rolling on the floor like that in the chaos of so many prisoners and guards, she would be out of sight in an instant.

Even now, there wasn’t a single guard around to help Kirko.

“Hehe- were there women like this in Nouvelle Vague? I’d like to unpack some of the things that have accumulated for the first time in a while.”

Euspear looked down at Kirko and licked his lips.

Kirko squeezed her eyes shut.

In all of her years as a guard at Nouvelle Vague, she’d always been prepared for the day when she’d have to face the harsh things.

It had always been sharpened in her mind as she lay in bed, as she stood watch alone in the silence of her post, as she showered, as she ate her meals.

‘Today is the day.’

The consequences of letting her guard down for a moment are frightening. Such is the life of a guard at Nouvelle Vague.

Whatever the future holds for her, Kirko is determined to accept and take it all in stride.

At that very moment, … 

peoeog! hududug- hududug- hudug-

Something hot splattered over Kirko’s face.


Kirko narrowed her eyes, not knowing what the sticky liquid that covered her face was

It was bright red blood.

Blood that had spurted from the Euspear’s mouth as it rode over her body.

“……ugg!? eueub! ugh!?

Euspear was struggling with his head raised, looking very embarrassed.

That’s because there was a thick, hard, and long stick that forced his mouth open and stuck deep into his throat.

A three-tiered baton.

It tore off Euspear’s upper and lower lips, knocked out all of his front teeth behind them, and burrowed into his esophagus.

No wonder all the flesh and uvula in his mouth was crushed in the process.

“eueub! ub! eoeogh! gueogh!”

Euspear struggled to spit out the baton that had been forced into his mouth, but it was impossible.

The hand holding the baton had a tremendous amount of force and weight behind it.

” ……Are you okay?”

The man with the three-tiered baton asked Kirko in a bland voice.

He was a man she knew well.

Garm Nord.

Age twenty-one. Rank: Second Lieutenant. A junior guard in the Nouvelle Vague and Kirko’s ally.

Garm was looking at Kirko with an expressionless face.


A three-tiered baton slipped out of Euspear’s mouth.

“Ewwgh! Gweeeeeegh! ……kuhugh!”

As the three-tiered baton, which had been almost all the way into his stomach, was pulled out, Euspear vomited blood, tears, snot, and sweat.

ppeoeog- jjeog!

He was immediately knocked out by the stomp of a military boot on the back of his head.


Kirko stuttered and opened her mouth.

‘I never thought I’d see the day when I’d get help from Garm, who used to be called ‘Stupid Garm’ and ‘Rotten Dog’.

‘No, isn’t this the second time?’

Kirko had unwittingly accepted help from him before during a previous riot.

But it felt a little different back then.



Kirko realized that now was not the time to be lost in thought.

She was in the middle of a battle, a prisoner riot in full swing.

So Kirko shouted in panic.

“This is no time for this, Garm! What happened to your sector and why did you come here? You need to subdue the prisoners in your sector before you help me……!”

But she couldn’t finish her sentence.

For Garm opened his mouth to answer her briefly.

“Does not exist anymore.”


For a moment, Kirko doubted her ears.

But it soon turned out that her performing ears had done their job well.

Garm’s three-tiered baton, bent into an L shape and dripping blood.

Behind him, more than a dozen prisoners were laying dead and writhing in a pool of blood.

“No more prisoners to suppress.”

The short, echoing words of Garm were enough to stun not only Kirko, but also the others who had just rushed up behind him.