"Whatever you think it is you're doing, it won't work," Eliot suddenly spoke, his voice cutting through the silence. He was addressing the small group that had just arrived, hauling two new victims towards the waiting pillars.

"Huh? One is awake," a rough voice noted from the group, and all five captors instantly turned their attention to Eliot.

At the young man's words, Eliot realized something crucial: everyone else was pretending to be asleep.

'What's the strategy here?' he wondered, a frown touching his lips.

[It seems they don't want you all conscious.]

'It certainly looks that way.'

"That's strange. No one else has woken up from 'it.' How come the new guy is already awake?" one of the men asked, articulating the question they were all clearly thinking.

With them now facing Eliot, he could clearly make out their details. The group consisted of two men—one with honey-blonde hair and hazel eyes (the one who spoke) and another with black hair and a permanent scowl, sporting a prominent scar across his face. There were two women—both deceptively young-looking, and one who was completely bald with black lipstick and an unnervingly creepy smile. Finally, there was a slightly younger girl with a mask that concealed half her face.

"Maybe he's resistant to it," the bald woman suggested.

"Could be. Or..." Darius, the blonde man, trailed off, a cruel grin spreading across his face as he walked up to Ben. "...They are all just pretending to be asleep."

He drew a short sword and plunged it straight through the young man's thigh. Ben's face remained slack, showing no reaction.

"Huh? I expected some kind of screaming for a second there," Darius sounded genuinely amused. He was wearing a blood-red shirt with armor plating and black pants. "Come on, Ben. I know you're awake. Just tell me to stop, and I will." He twisted the blade deeper, trying to induce greater agony, but Ben remained absolutely still.

"What in Hezel's Name are you doing, Darius?" The scarred man—the one with black hair—growled, rubbing his temples. "He's clearly deep in sleep."

"...Yeah, you're right," Darius conceded, withdrawing the sword. But then, he grinned again, wider this time. "Or, he just has a really tough skin." He pulled out a combat dagger, spun it once, then gripped it hard and brutally buried it into Ben's chest.

Still nothing.

"Darius!" the scarred man roared, his patience clearly gone.

"What? Don't you see? He's faking it! If he were truly affected by the potion, then he should be awake by now," Darius argued defensively.

"Hmm. For once in your entire life, you're actually making sense," the lady with curly blonde hair and green eyes said, and the bald woman nodded in agreement.

"Seems our little sacrifice thought it would be fun to play games," the curly-haired woman said, manifesting two daggers with chillingly thin blades.

"Now that's just rude," the third woman, who had vibrant green hair and eyes, chimed in, pulling a staff from her spatial ring.

"W-wait! I'm sorry... Argh... Please... don't kill me!" Ben, unable to endure the pain of the chest wound and the realization that the game was over, finally broke, pleading desperately.

Darius's face lit up with a horrific glee. "He fell for it. The potion puts them in a catatonic state—if he was really affected, not even mutilating his arms would make him react! I was right! These little bastards were playing us!" He giggled, pressing a hand over his mouth.

But then, the laughter stopped abruptly. In a split second, his expression turned from amused to pure, blinding rage.

"You little shit! You thought you could make a fool of me, huh?!" In a movement too fast to track, he lunged at Ben and stabbed the dagger straight through his eye.

"You idiot! Now you have to find a replacement for him!" the scarred man massaged his forehead in weary annoyance.

"What? You should be happy! I exposed their plan! Who knows? They would have found a way to escape at some point!" Darius argued, visibly annoyed.

"They wouldn't have. You're still an impulsive idiot."

"Tsk."

"I still don't get it. Why fight back when you know you can't escape no matter what you do?" the young girl in the mask, who hadn't spoken until now, finally asked, tilting her head with a disturbingly clinical curiosity.

"I don't know. Maybe because they're human?" the green-haired lady replied matter-of-factly.

"Human, huh?" the masked girl murmured. She then moved, gliding until she stood directly before Eliot.

"You... what are you?" she asked him, her obscured eyes analyzing his face.

"...." Eliot offered no reply, instead scrutinizing them all. He had finally realized the true nature of their imprisonment.

'They sealed all our mana. No wonder no one has tried to escape—it's not that they won't, it's that they simply can't.'

[It must be the woman with the staff.]

'Yes, she's not from around here.'

[Agreed. She must be from Aetherion Empire.]

'You're right. Only they use mana this way.'

He concluded that one of these captors was proficient in high-level Glyphs. That person had inscribed powerful runes around every single prisoner, runes with one singular purpose: to intercept and seal manaflow. Without their mana, they were all reduced to normal, defenseless humans, tied up and waiting for their inevitable demise, utterly unable to fight back.

"I'm talking to you. Answer me," the masked girl repeated, now so close that if he leaned forward, they would almost touch.

But Eliot still paid her no mind. From what he had seen, these people were entirely deranged. There was no reasoning with them, and one thing about unreasonable individuals was that you couldn't manipulate them... not easily, at least.

'How exactly does the seal work, Nedia? I need specifics.'

[Wait, give me a moment to analyze it.]

'Hurry.'

PAHHH!

A loud, stinging slap echoed.

"I'm talking to you. Respond," the masked girl demanded, a dangerous frown finally replacing her curious expression.

However...

Eliot didn't respond, but the that glint in his eyes was enough to pass across the message.

He was enraged.

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