As the five intern prison guards from the Protos Royal Magic Academy quietly examined the duty assignments dispatched to their wristbands inside the warden's office, a stiff atmosphere settled over them.
In that brief span, they quickly exchanged glances and checked the assignment details displayed on one another's wristbands.
As the shallowest tier of the facility, Basement Level 1 held inmates ranging from weak to strong, all falling within a presumed sentence bracket of one to ten years. There were generally no heinous monsters here, but that did not mean there was no mortal peril for the guards carrying out assignments.
On their way over earlier, they had seen many relatively simple duties—such as overseeing inmates during daily manual labor, cleaning, or other physical chores to ensure prisoners maintained order and the work proceeded smoothly.
There was also organizing and cataloging the files of high-security convicts, a role leaning more toward clerical work, which required compiling and updating information on a batch of serious offenders—including personal histories, criminal records, behavioral evaluation reports, and the like.
And there was even the most leisurely task of all: routine security patrols, requiring nothing more than regular rounds through designated sectors, where one merely had to report and respond according to protocol if any safety hazards were found.
Yet the tasks assigned to the five of them were almost entirely dangerous maintenance work in hazardous zones, mediating disputes among high-tier prisoners, and even monitoring the isolation wards of special inmates. Those inmates were kept in solitary confinement due to their extreme violent tendencies and unpredictable behavioral patterns; guards were required to keep watch over their every move during routine checks and ensure they could not cause any disturbance or escape their cells.
Reasonably speaking, for people looking to earn more duty points, this should have been a good thing.
The problem was that these visibly more difficult assignments did not award as many duty points as one would imagine—averaging under fifty points apiece.
Furthermore, one had to account for the time commitment, the extremely high risk of failure, and the penalty deductions.
Based on the wages of Herrom Prison's guards, calculating it out revealed that even if they succeeded across the board, the duty points converted into wages would amount to only slightly above an average guard's pay.
Clearly, this was a pile of thankless, exhausting chores that nobody wanted to touch.
At this moment, Hyperion understood: on this level, the disparity between good and bad tasks was massive, directly affecting the efficiency of acquiring duty points.
At their current rate, even if the five of them worked themselves to the bone, they might not manage to reach the minimum duty points required to descend to Basement Level 2 by the end of an entire day's grueling labor.
"Aren't you going to work? What use is there lingering in my office?"
Just as they prepared to confer, the warden's voice came from behind the desk.
The abrupt voice snapped them out of their thoughts.
Although the warden's tone carried an unmistakable desire to see them gone, the intern guards did not leave right away.
"Lord Warden, we are very grateful for the tasks you have assigned us, but if possible, we would like to undertake some more challenging assignments that yield higher duty points."
Hyperion took a step forward, her voice bearing both respect and sincerity.
"..."
Warden Corendan merely looked at Hyperion with a critical, questioning gaze.
His expression hardened further.
"You are still greenhorns, and already you wish to pick and choose? Here, assignments are handed out based on experience and seniority. Did you think assigning duties was simple?"
His voice was slow and firm, rejecting Hyperion's request with righteous indignation.
"Young people need time to understand and adjust to the complex operating system of the Protos Empire. You should proceed step by step, not rush ahead seeking instant success."
Warden Corendan laid out the rules of this floor, his tone carrying the air of a lecture on how students ought to behave and conduct themselves.
Hyperion remained silent for a moment.
"I am the eldest daughter of Count Milford's house. I wonder if you might grant us some leeway."
She lowered her voice slightly and inquired.
Although she had no desire to cause trouble for the Milford family, she was willing to make use of this connection if it aided the mission.
Upon hearing this, Warden Corendan glanced at her briefly.
"If I give all the good assignments to you newcomers, what do you think the veteran guards will say?"
Corendan tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, his voice low and steady, seemingly irritated by Hyperion's proposition.
He had reviewed the detailed dossiers of the intern guards arriving today. This Miss Milford was not the "eldest daughter" she claimed to be, but rather a niece of the count.
For a niece who posed a threat to the inheritance, the count was being generous enough just by not having her disposed of, let alone being willing to incur a favor for her sake.
"...That is not what I meant."
Looking at Warden Corendan's facade of stern impartiality, Hyperion clearly saw through to his true meaning.
He did not care in the slightest for an empty promise from some remote northern noble; as a dignified warden in Herrom, the Imperial Capital, he looked down on it.
"Taking actual action to prove yourself is far more useful than spouting grand talk here."
Warden Corendan set down the water cup in his hand, sat up straight once more, and returned his attention to the paperwork before him, acting as though he had no further interest in paying them any mind.
"..."
Hyperion did not leave, her eyes resting on the documents on Warden Corendan's desk.
She finally understood how the rules of Basement Level 1 really worked.
Although one could not bring personal wealth into Herrom Prison, magic cards stored inside the soul space counted as an intern guard's innate strength and could be retained.
On Basement Level 1, before gaining access to other resources, rare purple cards that one could unbind outside of combat likely held considerable value. Perhaps presenting a modest gift to the warden, lowering one's posture to the absolute dirt, and flattering him would earn a few good assignments; otherwise, he would use the most grueling drudgery to teach newcomers a lesson.
When the time came, even if the team reached 1,000 duty points, if the warden was in a foul mood, he might still obstruct them or award them the lowest possible evaluation.
As long as one did not thoroughly offend a warden, the warden of each level would not hold students back forever, barring them from going down indefinitely. If the chief warden discovered that a warden was deliberately making things difficult for Protos Royal Magic Academy students, the warden would be punished as well.
Just as Hyperion was pondering how to negotiate further with Warden Corendan, the three people behind her were already itching for violence, their knuckles popping with audible cracks.
This was the first time they of the Resurrection Church had ever seen anyone dare to give them such trouble.
Sensing the demonic murderous intent rising behind her, Hyperion whipped her head around to look at the three of them.
She broke out in a cold sweat, terrified out of her wits—they absolutely could not resort to the Resurrection Church's methods here, or else the arbiters from the Church of the Goddess of Fate watching this would surely cast their votes against her!
Chapter 394