act15d0

Son of a...!

It's no use, Anthony.

Ms. Robin, I'm afraid I've underestimated your fighting prowess. I must say, I'm taking a liking to you more and more by the minute.

How about it? Help me now, and I will forgive all that you've done.

How about no?!

What's with this guy's hand? It's got so hard after it turned black!

Oh, let me introduce you to my Originium Arts. I can control iron. And I've also received a few modifications to my body.

When you attacked just now, it felt as though you hit an iron plate, didn't it?

That isn't just my Originium Arts at work.

Beneath my skin, I have what I suppose you can aptly call the crystallization of technology, courtesy of Rhine Lab—a tiny metal plating.

Well, I'm afraid I don't know what its proper name is, but it's strong enough to greatly reduce the impact of your attacks.

Hold on, you're from Rhine Lab?!

Unfortunately, I'm not.

In any case, I'm surprised you're able to put up such a fight despite those shackles.

Looks like it's time to get serious.

His hand... turned into a blade...

Did you know, Mr. Anthony?

Ever since I arrived at the prison, ever since I first laid my eyes on you, I've felt a sort of mismatch.

You are doing your damnedest to control yourself, to make yourself seem harmless, and to make yourself look well-mannered.

But you're strength incarnate.

From that moment onward, I've been waiting for this to happen.

So that I can tear off that well-mannered facade of yours and unleash the violence hidden underneath—

I'm sure I didn't disappoint.

Not at all. You opened my eyes.

You have no right to judge who I am!!! *Roar*!!!

I'm not here to judge. What I'm trying to say is you're much less of an eyesore now.

Using your teeth too, huh? Tsk, tsk.

I'm sorry to say your teeth won't be able to tear into me.

...Dammit! Dammit!

Anthony, my friend, is there really all that much you can accomplish outside?

Will you be able to save your parents? Your family?

Let me tell you. You'll have nothing once you step out there.

You're living quite the life here in prison. Even the warden has to kowtow to you.

I may have said I could've killed you long ago, but it wouldn't have been a walk in the park if you didn't go on this little excursion.

Why go through all that trouble? Isn't life in prison plenty comfortable?

On July 24th six years ago, I was heading to a dinner party when, all of a sudden, a bodyguard told me something had happened back home and my father told me to run.

I had no idea what had happened. I didn't even had the chance to say goodbye to my parents before I went on the run.

I was arrested when I made it to Ironforge.

I thought that was all there was to it, but it didn't take long after I was put in prison for me to find out that wasn't the case.

The way I'm treated here is not how criminals are usually treated. I realized right away that my father probably arranged for my imprisonment.

Well, what a coincidence. I think so too. But if that's what you think, wouldn't you say that's all the more reason not to betray your father's wishes?

My father's wishes?

Looks like you really enjoy looking down on people and trying to plot them out, Jesselton.

Has anyone ever told you how petty you are?

I've been told that before, indeed.

But I'm afraid how petty I am has nothing to do with your prison break.

I could live a comfortable life here. I could even turn it into my own little kingdom.

But what would that get me? It would only make me the prisoner with the most freedom.

I've lived here for six years, and there was nary a moment when I didn't want to step outside.

I want to leave not because I want to prove how amazing I am. I want to leave because I need to figure out just what had happened back home. I need to tell the ones responsible for my family's downfall that we're not done yet!

To tell the truth, that impassioned speech is really rubbing me the wrong way.

But no big deal. Whatever the case may be, you aren't getting out of this place alive.

I may not be able to take you down, but I've stalled you long enough. The other guards should be here soon as the lockdown ends, too.

You did well. Your friends did, too. This isn't your fault.

It's just that most of life in this world ends up unsatisfactory.

Unfortunately, this is as far as you go.

Listen. Here comes the reaper.

So this is it...?

Tsk, what should we do...?

Sorry to disappoint, but the reaper isn't coming just yet.

On a different note, Anthony, you are way too loud. I could hear you on my way here.

Who... are you?

Hm? You...

I have to hand it to you. Even I was a little surprised by your plan.

It took me a good while to stop those other guards.

Huh? Where've I seen you before...?

Hold on, you...

Rhine Lab Defense Director, Saria!

Right, I remember you, Jesselton.

I'm honored to be remembered by someone as esteemed as you.

Not a lot of resumes make it to my desk.

I remember the moment you told me I didn't get the job too.

But first, I'm curious. What is Her Highness the Defense Director doing here in a prison?

You needn't worry about that.

All you need to know is that this is where it all ends for you.

Where it ends for me?

No, no, no. It seems you're mistaken about something, Director Saria, or should I say just Saria?

I heard your ability isn't all that dissimilar to mine, but before I even had the chance to find out, you'd already slammed the door in my face.

For all these years, I've wondered whether you're actually stronger than me.

Looks like we have the chance to find out now.

Hmph.

Her hand changed color too!

It's so white... beautiful...

You're right. Your Arts are rather similar to mine.

However...

Their clashes echo through the morgue.

Saria's two knife hands may seem like no match for the black blades of Jesselton.

But that couldn't be further from the truth.

One step.

Another step.

And yet another step.

After each and every strike, Jesselton can't help but take a few steps back.

There isn't a single scratch on Saria's knives.

I've told you before, Jesselton.

You're too fixated on the moment and you lack perseverance. I don't need anyone like that working for me.

You're too small-minded.

—With Saria's side swipe, a crack appears on Jesselton's blade.

Once.

Twice.

And a third time.