After that, Daemon continued to eavesdrop appropriately on the supervisors' conversation before slipping away before being caught and returning to the parts room.
The parts room supervisor noticed his disappearance and threw a fit, but fortunately it ended with just getting beaten a few times.
Listening to what the surrounding workers said, it seemed ominous rumors were circulating that he was now wandering around looking for a place to die.
He emptied the thin porridge in one breath, lay down, and fell into thought.
'The time remaining until the union comes to collect the products is three days.'
The supervisors talked for a long while even after lighting each other's cigarettes, and Daemon was able to obtain useful information from that.
'If union members visit the factory, naturally the supervisors' surveillance will weaken... The opportunity is only then.'
If he delayed any longer than that, Daemon's weak body couldn't endure it.
The fact that he was somehow maintaining a sound mind even in such poor conditions was solely thanks to Daemon's mental ability stats that he had invested in.
However, no one knew whether he could maintain the same judgment and reason as now even after his body completely broke down.
Time wasn't on his side, but it wasn't like there was no breakthrough.
Daemon carefully pulled the blanket over his head, turned his body toward the wall, and curled up.
Like he did earlier, he gathered two fingers, and the moment he imagined a blue flame, a small light appeared and began to softly illuminate the inside of the blanket.
"......"
Was it because he had used it once before? Now he didn't even need an incantation to use magic.
Daemon quietly gazed at that light of magic power and tried to narrow the gap between the magic knowledge he knew and reality.
In truth, Daemon knew nothing about the sensation of moving magic power or the knack for using magic.
The Magic Marksman character he had played simply recited incantations as he directed from beyond the monitor, formed hand seals, then designated the point of impact with a gun and shot it out to use magic.
The magic Daemon was now invoking with just his will, without incantations or hand seals, was a type he had never experienced before.
There was only one possibility that came to mind. Perhaps it was because of the magic-related ability stats he had raised to the limit when creating the character.
If his guess was correct, Daemon was actually implementing magic that vaguely remained in his head into reality with talent alone.
A talent that could use magic even without knowing about hand seals and incantations.
Daemon realized how absurd and amazing this was.
If he could only properly combine this talent with the various game knowledge he knew, rapid growth in a short period wouldn't be impossible.
However, if there was one problem, even if this world's magic system and Otherverse's magic system matched, the magic knowledge Daemon knew was only half-baked.
The character he played in ver.2.0 hit the limitations of the Magic Marksman class and could only use the common magic system called 'Dexter' among Mages.
Regarding the unique magic system called 'Sinister' that real mages used, he had only seen and heard rumors at a level similar to other players.
But for now, even that was enough. Even in the common magic 'Dexter,' there were plenty of useful spells.
'The true value of magic isn't in flashiness or destructive power.'
If he hadn't awakened magic power, he would have had to rack his brains a bit more, but once he became able to use even very small magic, the difference was clear.
What remained was just to steadily carry out the preparations he'd thought of starting tomorrow.
Daemon clenched his fist to extinguish the flame, straightened his body, and closed his eyes.
The terrible insomnia was still tormenting him, and it was the fourth day of repeatedly falling into light sleep and waking.
He had already given up on reaching deep sleep without leaving this room where low snoring and foul odors mingled.
Daemon, who spent the night with his eyes almost open, continued practicing moving magic power and using magic until it was time for the other workers to wake up.
If he couldn't get used to this sensation, there would be no future for Daemon whatsoever.
The runway given to him was only one, and he couldn't even think of other possibilities.
And the one who had made Daemon that way was himself.