Subverting The World [Cyber] - Chapter 11

The prison’s biggest flaw at the moment?
A severe staff shortage.

Prisoner No. 78 was well aware of that.

By triggering a lockdown, he could pull bionic guards away from the lower-security zones. Once the lockdown hit, the cells would seal shut. Surveillance would be left entirely to the automated cameras — and that brief window was exactly what he needed.

Hidden beneath his blanket in his cell, No. 78 worked quickly. Before No. 99 had made his escape, they had already swapped gear, and now, beneath the cover of the quilt, he was quietly assembling their plan.

A cough came from the upper bunk — a signal from his cellmate.

No. 78 immediately poked his head out from under the quilt. It was strictly forbidden to cover your head while sleeping in prison. The bionic guards wouldn’t hesitate to drag someone off their bed by force.

A flashlight beam suddenly cut across his face, making him squint. He blinked slowly, rubbed his eyes, and turned over irritably. The bionic guard scanned him briefly, then moved on to the next cell.

Only after the danger passed did No. 78 pull the final piece of his makeshift disguise together — a decoy head made from soap, clay, and toothpaste. He handed a second one to his bunkmate.

Together, they arranged their bedding to resemble sleeping bodies and crawled out of sight — No. 78 slipping under the bed, waiting for the second sweep of the surveillance cameras.

He counted silently. With a recycled, outdated heart beating at exactly 100 BPM — a result of a transplant that had since been reversed — he measured time by heartbeats.

At 300 beats, he held his breath.

Facial recognition wouldn’t raise an alarm unless it saw something clearly off. Their fake heads were molded to match their features — hopefully, enough to trick the software.

…No alarms. No alerts.

Success.

No. 78 exhaled slowly. The first hurdle was cleared.

He slipped out from under the bed. His roommate joined him. They had a strict three-minute window — ten seconds already gone.

They moved quickly to remove the bricks they had loosened behind the toilet. Every time they opened the hole, they carefully repainted the bricks to match. Time was tight. If they didn’t slip inside now, the camera’s next sweep would expose the breach.

No. 78’s hands were rock-steady as he worked.

With 1 minute and 45 seconds passed, the bricks came out cleanly. They crawled into the narrow opening. Behind them, the roommate carefully replaced the tiles — enough to delay detection for just a bit longer.

The space wasn’t a dead-end — it led into a small crawlspace. With some effort, they pushed upward into the main ventilation shaft.

Wide enough for one person, the shaft was their escape route.

As they scrambled forward, the sirens started blaring.

They’d been discovered.

But it didn’t matter now — they were past the point of no return.

All that was left was the final stretch: steal a laundry truck, park it under the wall, and climb over. Normally, bionic guards with weapons made that impossible.

But during a lockdown? The laundry trucks sat idle in the parking lot.

And luckily, No. 78’s cellmate was a specialist — a car thief sentenced for trying to steal a luxury limo… not realizing the owner and five bodyguards were still inside.

They made their way toward the vehicle lot in silence.

Elsewhere, No. 99 emerged from a hidden tunnel, pushing aside an artificial planter concealing the entrance.

He and his partner were now facing the warden’s office.

That tunnel? Only former wardens knew about it. All of them were dead.

And tonight, they planned to add one more to that list.

No. 99 smashed a surveillance camera with a thrown rock, then stormed through the office door.

But instead of surprise, they were met with darkness. The door slammed shut behind them.

Eyes glowed in the black.

Then — brilliant, blinding light.

Warden Shi Xu had been waiting.

“Did you really think I didn’t know about this passage?” she said, crouching in front of the stunned No. 99 with a calm smile.

The prisoners were pinned down.

Shi Xu, clearly amused, added, “Even if I didn’t know where it was, the fact that every warden dies in this office made it obvious enough. It wasn’t hard to guess.”

No. 99 looked past her — behind her were rows of bionic charging stations.

“I turned the office into a bionic charging hub,” she explained. “Anyone trying to sneak in here gets caught automatically.”

No. 99, undeterred, sneered:
“You’re only proud now because you think you’ve won. But soon you’ll be dead, and I’ll be gone.”

Just then — a horn blared outside.

A signal.

It was the code No. 99 had arranged with No. 78. He started laughing in triumph, despite being pinned to the ground.

“My partner has the car! He’s about to jump the wall! You’ve lost!”

“Ten!”
“Nine!”
…
“Five!”
…
“One!”

He paused, waiting for the chaos. Waiting for Shi Xu’s panic. Waiting for her death.

Instead — a loud bang echoed outside.

The sound of… a crash?

No. 99’s face lit up in glee. This was it!

But Shi Xu only blinked, her voice calm:
“That was the garbage truck, by the way.”

She stood up, brushing her hair back and yawning.

“This little performance is finally over,” she said coolly.

No. 99 froze.

What?

Shi Xu didn’t bother to explain. She simply waved a hand.

“Take him away. Full isolation. Half rations.”

As No. 99 was dragged off, Shi Xu called over two guards to check the wall.

There, a blue van was tightly parked against the perimeter.

Just as she’d expected.

She walked over, noting the bl00d leaking from the back door.

The vehicle wasn’t a laundry van. It was a garbage truck — one that automatically crushed its contents and sent them for incineration.

She signaled the bionic units to open the back.

Two shovel blades emerged, pulling out what remained of the two prisoners.

Flat. Crushed.

[no_78.jpg]
[no_78_roommate.jpg]

Shi Xu didn’t bother examining them.

Instead, she checked the vehicle height.

“I knew it,” she muttered. “Just tall enough to clear the wall.”

She’d noticed something off about the height of the laundry trucks. They looked similar to the garbage trucks — except for the color.

So she’d had them repainted, batch by batch, then left them out to dry.

Most prisoners only ever saw a few staged samples near the reception zone.

If anyone tried to hijack one from the lot at night?

They’d grab the wrong one.

A garbage truck.

One that turns on automatically the moment it’s started.

Shi Xu returned to the prison, satisfied.

There was still more work to do. A new batch of prisoners was arriving — including one infamous for escaping multiple times during transport.

This time, she’d be ready.