The Abusive Novel System Pleads with Me to Resign

The doctor was startled by the request. For a mere medical visit, the warden was taking such extraordinary precautions—could there be hidden circumstances at play?

Though puzzled, the doctor didn’t question Shen Ying’s orders. He pressed a button on his terminal, and mechanical restraints instantly secured Lien’s limbs to the bed.

Only then did the doctor ask, “Warden, is there a problem?”

“Prisoner 3077 was brought here unconscious due to a mental energy surge. The mechanical guards have already scanned his entire body—no threats detected.”

Yet Shen Ying stepped closer to Lien, studying the pirate leader with sharp scrutiny.

Unconscious, the man’s usual rough, reckless demeanor had vanished. His emerald-green eyes were shut, giving him an almost delicate, fragile appearance.

Shen Ying gripped his chin, tilting his face upward before releasing him. Lien’s head lolled limply to the side.

She pried open one of his eyelids—his gaze was unfocused, his body slack. The signs of deep unconsciousness were unmistakable.

Shen Ying arched a brow and replied, “This isn’t just any prisoner.”

“When he was captured, nearly his entire pirate crew escaped unscathed. That’s no ordinary gang—they’re an armed force capable of going toe-to-toe with the military.”

“From the moment he arrived, he’s been boasting about breaking out. Even in a high-security orbital prison, we can’t afford to underestimate an enemy like that.”

The doctor nodded. “Should I administer another sedative?”

“No need. The medical bay isn’t a strategic weak point—it’s isolated, with no accessible passages. Even if they had a plan, faking an injury to escape from here wouldn’t work.”

The doctor conceded the point. The medical center was deliberately designed without direct pathways to prevent prisoners from exploiting medical emergencies to breach restricted zones.

At worst, any escape attempt here would only cost a few staff members—no one could brute-force their way through.

Then the warden asked, “Was his entire body thoroughly searched?”

“I suspect he’s more likely to steal medical supplies or equipment.”

The doctor hurriedly assured her, “Protocol was followed—for the safety of all staff, every prisoner undergoes a strict search. Given his reputation, we even had the mechanical guards scan him three times.”

Shen Ying sighed. “Still too reliant on technology.”

The doctor blinked. “What?”

He didn’t understand. Modern scanning tech was leagues ahead of its primitive origins centuries ago. The orbital prison’s top-tier scanners could analyze a person’s elemental composition in real time, down to the molecular level.

Nothing could be hidden—not externally, not internally. Even substances diluted into the bloodstream would be instantly detected.

Shen Ying recognized his blind faith in technology but didn’t blame him—given current advancements, it was a reasonable assumption.

So she reached toward Lien on the bed.

Her movements were unremarkable—an outdated, rudimentary manual search, long obsolete.

The doctor was stunned. Was the warden just making excuses to grope the prisoner?

If the most advanced scanners found nothing, how could her casual pat-down uncover anything?

Suspicion clouded the doctor’s mind, but Lien was the one truly suffering.

He ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‍knew her skills firsthand. Before, she’d effortlessly relieved him of most of his belongings without him even noticing.

The humiliation had lingered—how could he have been so oblivious to her proximity?

So when he realized she was searching him again, Lien wasn’t alarmed. Instead, he was eager.

This was his chance to figure out how she did it.

Focusing intently, he channeled all his awareness to his skin, even diverting the scant mental energy he could still access.

His skin became hypersensitive.

This was a rare application of mental energy—typically used to enhance vision or hearing. Heightening tactile sensitivity was unheard of.

The risks were clear: not only would touch become excruciatingly vivid, but any injury would bring multiplied agony.

Yet Lien didn’t care. He felt it—her seemingly casual motions were methodical, thorough, like a net closing around him.

Her touches were feather-light and swift, leaving no trace, like lifting an object from water without a ripple.

The sheer subtlety of her technique sent a chill down his spine.

But now, with his heightened senses, he could track her movements—until he realized his mistake.

His skin was screaming with sensitivity. Normally, his mental fortitude could withstand even brutal pain.

But Shen Ying’s touch wasn’t harsh—it was teasing, maddeningly light, like a feather dancing over him.

It wasn’t pain. It was an unbearable, tantalizing itch, his skin begging for more even as it recoiled.

Too late, Lien understood the trap. His muscles tensed involuntarily, his steady breathing turning ragged.

Shen Ying glanced at him, then pressed down slightly harder as her hand passed over his chest.

Lien’s mind blanked.

“Ah—!”

The moan escaped before he could stop it. He instinctively tried to cover his mouth, only to remember his restraints.

Trapped on the bed, pinned under Shen Ying’s amused gaze, Lien had never felt more exposed.

But he had to keep up the act.

Blinking as if dazed, he muttered, “Where… am I?”

Shen Ying smirked. “Enough. I’ve never seen anyone turn their entire body into a weak point just to test a search technique.”

Lien’s face twisted into a strained grin. “What? I was just slacking off. No need for the warden to personally catch me, right?”

“Don’t worry—I’ll make up for today’s quota.”

Shen Ying nodded. “Oh, you will. With your mental strength and precision, you’re one of the prison’s most productive workers.”

Her tone turned mocking. “So? Did you figure out my technique?”

“Planning to keep enhancing your tactile senses to counter it? Be careful—if my goal wasn’t searching but attacking, even if you endured the pain, your combat effectiveness would drop.”

“At a critical moment, you know what that means.”

Lien cursed inwardly but kept his bravado. “Don’t underestimate me. If I couldn’t handle a simple search, I’d have no hope of escaping.”

Even now, his arrogance didn’t waver. Truthfully, her skill unsettled him—a natural wariness of the unknown, shared by all true predators.

To say he pinned his hopes on this would be a joke—the conditions required for a space prison break were far too numerous, and this was barely a start.

Yet the warden saw right through him without hesitation. "True. To escape, you’d first need inside and outside coordination."

"External factors aside, even locating the airborne prison is a challenge. But internally, you’d still have plenty to do."

"At the very least, you’d need the ability to temporarily disable the prison’s systems."

As Lien’s expression grew increasingly rigid, Shen Ying added, "Of course, this isn’t the only way. But clearly, you chose this path."

"Then dodging my inspections was rather necessary."

Lien fell silent for a moment before rolling his eyes and gesturing for Shen Ying to release his restraints.

Surprisingly, she complied.

Once freed, he reached down to his ankle and pulled out a small piece of metal, no larger than a fingernail. The doctor gaped—he’d actually hidden something.

But how had it evaded the mechanical guards’ scans?

As if reading the unspoken question, Lien scoffed. "Hard? Just stick some magnetic material from the workshop onto the robots."

It wasn’t just the robots, either—he’d also temporarily hidden the item among the metal objects on the prison doctor’s person. The robots scanned him but not themselves, and he’d transferred the item three times during inspection.

Shen Ying caught the tossed metal and smirked. "Looks like we’ll need another update to the prison security protocols."

Lien shrugged, feigning indifference despite his minor disappointment at the failed gambit.

"I’ll head back now, Warden."

Shen Ying smiled. "You may. But hand over the rest first."

Lien’s heart skipped a beat, but he spread his hands innocently. "That’s it. Nothing left."

"Except what the warden promised I could keep for self-defense."

Shen Ying stared at him, silent.

Lien didn’t flinch, even stretching his arms. "Don’t believe me? Search me again."

The words left his mouth before he remembered his earlier humiliation, and his bravado wavered slightly.

Shen Ying shrugged, ignoring Lien entirely as her gaze swept over the doctor, the mechanical guards, and the medical equipment nearby.

Finally, she approached the bed, unscrewed a side railing, and retrieved an energy core from a mech.

Lien’s expression darkened. Shen Ying ordered the guards, "Cuff him."

Two mechanical guards seized Lien at once.

Shen Ying loomed over him. "They reported you mishandled the core and caused an explosion. I knew you’d taken it."

"Plan A was using the core to activate a mech in the cargo hold, wasn’t it?"

Though the mechs were stored in areas prisoners couldn’t access, Shen Ying had to admit—no cage was truly unbreakable.

But she hadn’t given Lien the chance to proceed.

Lien glared at the warden, startled his first move had been exposed so quickly.

Still, though frustration simmered, his resolve remained unshaken. He was certain he’d escape eventually.

Today, however, would be rough.

Shen Ying sighed. "Pity. I gave you a chance, but you clung to your stubborn delusions."

"Prisoner 3077, you will be punished."

Lien had faced life-and-death struggles since childhood—what did he care for mere discipline? His lips curled in disdain.

Hours later, the mechanical guards dragged Lien back to his cell.

Drenched in sweat, his skin glistened as if soaked through. His voice was hoarse, eyes bloodshot, lips bitten raw. His fair complexion now flushed pink, his gaze unfocused like a discarded ragdoll as the guards tossed him inside.

The cell door clanged shut. Next door, the Crown Prince sipped coffee and read, frowning slightly at Lien’s state.

He knew the man had intentionally detonated the energy core, plotting chaos—and for this prison now beyond his control, a little disorder wasn’t unwelcome.

He’d captured Lien himself. The man’s cunning was unforgettable.

Yet here he was, battered and humiliated after just the first move.

This warden might be tougher than he’d anticipated.

Lien, however, had lost all his earlier arrogance. Furious, he spat, "How dare you treat me like this? Just wait—I’ll make you pay."

His glare shifted to the Crown Prince next door, lounging with coffee as if on vacation.

Indignant, Lien shouted, "Warden! This guy’s hiding contraband too, flaunting it openly!"

"Punish him!"

The Crown Prince eyed Lien like trash and smirked. "Idiot."

"She wouldn’t dare challenge me over something this trivial."

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