Having stopped by a supervisor's bedroom that wasn't in the plan, it was important to get out of here as soon as he got what he wanted.
Daemon first took the key bundle from the fallen supervisor's hand and immediately began searching here and there in the bedroom.
If it was a luxury item circulating among supervisors, there was a high possibility it was being carefully stored somewhere.
Only after turning over the bed mattress entirely did Daemon finally find the answer.
"He hid quite a lot."
Daemon clicked his tongue at the sight of the pile of cigarettes neatly arranged along the hidden space under the mattress.
Even at the lowest estimate, it was a quantity that seemed to exceed one carton.
Daemon, who stole the cigarette case from the supervisor's chest and swept up the cigarettes from under the mattress as much as he could grab, didn't hesitate to withdraw his hand as soon as the case was full.
He didn't have space to carry them even if he tried to take everything anyway.
The case the supervisor had been using was just the right size to fit in a pocket and even had an ignition function to create flames, making it very suitable to carry around separately.
He wanted to put one in his mouth right away and recall the feeling he had earlier, but Daemon forcibly held back and began looking for other useful items.
While rummaging through an old drawer, Daemon hesitated when he felt hard metal at his fingertips.
"..."
Although it was his first time touching it directly, it didn't make sense not to recognize this shape no matter what.
Daemon, who pulled out an old pistol from the drawer, looked down at it with a complicated expression.
The subtle details were different, but the overall silhouette was extremely familiar.
The magazine at the bottom of the pistol was fully loaded with 8 bullets, but no additional magazines were visible in the drawer.
It seemed to be made so it could be fired just by pulling the slide at the top to load, as if not considering safety devices at all.
Daemon stared at the pistol and pondered for a moment, but soon realized that even that pondering was a luxury.
To survive, he must not hesitate in any way. Daemon, who picked up the pistol and put it in his chest, immediately left the supervisor's bedroom.
Having obtained the tobacco, he should move right away, but Daemon stopped there and began examining the key bundle he had stolen from the supervisor's hand.
There were only three keys, but each key had a sticker attached to mark where it was used.
It was writing he'd never seen before, but surprisingly he could understand the meaning. It seemed the previous Daemon wasn't completely illiterate.
One was for the bedroom. One was for the assembly room... This supervisor seemed to be the person in charge of the assembly room.
And Daemon, who confirmed the words "break room" written on the last key, immediately began moving toward where the break room was.
"It's a bit different from the original plan... but this will be more effective."
The plan Daemon had thought of was to escape outside the factory through the underground parking lot.
He had identified several passages while wandering around the factory, but he was confident that using the parking lot was relatively the safest.
Inside the factory, and having to move around avoiding the supervisors' eyes, Daemon had no way of knowing what kind of defenses were set up outside the factory.
In such a situation, if he rashly chose an overland route leading outside the factory as an escape route, he would be helplessly caught if he encountered unexpected guards or defensive postures.
The parking lot where vehicles mainly came and went instead of people was relatively more likely to have less such defense.
However, he had been thinking he had no choice but to bear the risk of moving bare-handed in the parking lot, but if he could use the supervisors' break room, the story was different.
The break room was located in the corridor between the supervisors' dormitory area and the workshop.
Daemon put his ear to the door for a moment and concentrated on the sounds coming from inside, but when he felt no particular presence, he immediately opened the door with the key.
As expected, none of the supervisors who were busy dealing with union members remained in the break room.
In the empty break room, only snacks, bottles of alcohol, and clothes left over by the supervisors were scattered about.
It seemed obvious they enjoyed drinking even during work, but people who would maintain such a diligent work attitude in such a shabby factory probably wouldn't have rolled down here in the first place.
And if they were such people, it was highly likely it wouldn't be strange at all if they left important items among such clothes.
"...Found it."
As a result of thoroughly searching the pockets of clothes scattered in the break room, Daemon succeeded in finding old sunglasses, one empty wallet, and two key bundles.
Most were keys used to open various rooms or locked doors like the supervisor he had knocked out earlier, but among them was one key with a code that appeared to be a vehicle serial number.
There was no way to know what kind of license plates vehicles used in this world, but just obtaining additional keys was a gain.
Thump thump!!
A faint vibration echoed through the wall beyond the break room. A roar as if something was being pounded from very far away.
It was clear the union members were causing a commotion while going around every corner of the factory.
While he was at it, Daemon took out a cigarette from where he sat, immediately lit it, and put it in his mouth.
Although he had never touched cigarettes in that other world, Daemon quickly became accustomed to smoking.
The same smoke as before thoroughly soaked the inside of his body, making him forget fatigue and pain. At the same time, his extremely sharp mind loosened and relaxed, and tension began to unwind.
While it was good to make him forget the body's fatigue, loosening his mind was definitely not a good thing in the current situation.
Daemon deliberately removed the cigarette from his mouth after appropriately inhaling the smoke.
'He said he mixed psychoactive plants. If I eat too much, even the speed my head works will slow down.'