Escape from Destiny: I am Michael Scofield

Fox River – Next Day

I knew Abruzzi wouldn't trust me easily. The mobster wanted a test, and I was ready to face anything.

The next morning, one of Abruzzi's henchmen, Gus, approached my cell.

"The boss wants to talk to you."

I kept my expression neutral, but inside, I was already calculating my options.

---

In the courtyard, Abruzzi was waiting for me, sitting at the table, with that calculating look.

"So, Scofield… you want my favor, but you need to prove you're worth it."

I crossed my arms, standing my ground.

"And what do you have in mind?"

He smiled dangerously.

"There's a guy here in Fox River who's been messing with my business. I want you to deal with him."

I didn't show any surprise, but inside I was quickly analyzing the situation.

[Ding! New System Mission: "The Mafioso's Test"

Objective: Solve the Abruzzi problem without compromising your plan.]

Reward: +1000 System Points,

Evolution in an Existing Skill.]

I felt like the System was starting to recognize my strategic approach and giving me rewards that could actually be useful.

Now the question remained: who was the target?

---

Abruzzi looked at a group in the yard and pointed out a prisoner named Vince Parker. A muscular man, covered in tattoos, who exuded a dangerous arrogance.

"He's trying to mess with my smuggling business. I want you to deal with him."

I needed to act intelligently. Resorting to violence was not my style; it could jeopardize my entire plan. But I also couldn't ignore Abruzzi's order.

I spent the day quietly observing Vince. I knew that in a prison, the best weapon was information. And I needed to find his weaknesses.

With patience and attention to detail, I discovered a few key points:

He participated in illegal poker games and made high bets.

He owed money to one of the corrupt guards, Geary.

He had a tense relationship with other prisoners due to his debts.

A small smile appeared at the corner of my mouth. I didn't need to lift a finger.

---

I waited for the right moment and approached Torres, one of the prisoners who harbored an obvious hatred for Vince.

"I heard that Vince owes a guard a good amount of money and that he intends to run away without paying."

Torres' eyes widened.

"What?"

I didn't say anything else. I just smiled and walked away. I knew that in less than an hour, Vince would be in serious trouble.

It was all a matter of planting the right seed and letting the unwritten rules of Fox River do the rest.

A few hours later, Vince was ambushed by some prisoners he owed money to. He was given a brutal beating and eventually hauled off to solitary confinement. I didn't even have to get directly involved.

Shortly after, I was called by Abruzzi.

He greeted me with a slight smile of satisfaction.

"You didn't get your hands dirty, but the job was done. Smart."

I kept my expression controlled.

"Can I consider this a pass for what I asked for?"

He stared at me for a moment and nodded.

"Yes. You have your access to maintenance."

It was exactly what I needed. One more crucial step on my path to escape.

[Ding! Mission Complete!

Reward: +1000 System Points,

Skill "Magnetic Presence" has evolved to Level 2.]

[Passive Skill: Magnetic Presence — Evolution Detected!

Level 2 achieved.

Updated Description:

Your aura and charisma have a growing impact on female characters, making their interactions more engaging, attractive, and memorable. You stand out even in ordinary situations, arousing natural interest and curiosity, as well as facilitating the building of emotional bonds and trust.

Specific Effects – Level 2:

✅ Subtle Increase in Attraction: Personal magnetism becomes more evident, making the user's presence resonate more deeply with the women they interact with. Small gestures, looks and words take on greater emotional weight.

✅ Strengthening Initial Bonds: Initial positive interactions are more likely to evolve into trust, admiration, or romantic interest. The time needed to develop these bonds is reduced.

✅ Impact on Resistant Personalities: Women with strong or hostile personalities become more likely to perceive human and captivating nuances in you, even without consciously realizing it. This creates a subtle opening for future approaches.

✅ Memory Enhancement: Females tend to recall your conversations and interactions with more detail and emotional intensity, making them more likely to return to you voluntarily.

✅ Increased Effectiveness with Key Characters: Female characters relevant to the story (of narrative or strategic importance) will be more receptive to your attempts at persuasion, alliance, and emotional manipulation.

Hidden Bonus Unlocked:

✨ Natural Subtlety: The effect of the skill remains organic and natural. Your charisma will not be perceived as forced or suspicious, reducing the risk of distrust even among intuitive women.

System Observation:

"True power lies not only in winning hearts, but in knowing how to guide them in the right direction."

Progress to Level 3: [0%]

Requirements for Evolution:

– Successful approaches with female characters with high resistance or hostility.

– Development of lasting emotional or romantic bonds with highly influential figures.

– Exercise charismatic leadership over a female group in a situation of risk or crisis.]

This system really was a powerful thing.

The escape was closer. But I knew there was still a long way to go. And in Fox River, every little detail could be the difference between freedom and a cold grave.

---

The sun beat down on the Fox River courtyard, reflecting yellowish hues on the aged concrete. I walked slowly, feeling the heat seep through my beige clothing, but my mind was far from my physical discomfort. Every step was calculated, every glance around me registered faces, reactions, movements. Everything here had to be understood, absorbed. This place did not forgive distractions.

I knew there was still a long way to go before the plan was executed. Every piece had to be moved at the right time. C-Note had been hooked, Sucre was starting to trust, Abruzzi was pondering. Pope had already called me to the Taj Mahal. Sara... well, with Sara I felt that, beyond the strategy, something more was taking shape.

And now, there was one more old and valuable piece left: Charles Westmoreland.

The man was a living legend here, even if no one was sure if the stories were true. DB Cooper. $5 million buried somewhere. Myth or not, Westmoreland had something few here had: respect.

He was discreet, he knew the system from the inside out like no one else. And, above all, he knew how to stay away from the chaos that consumed most people. That kind of wisdom was invaluable. Having someone like that around... meant having eyes and ears where few could reach.

I didn't need him to hand me buried treasure right now. Right now, I needed his mind. His experience. His respect.

Approaching him required tact. Men like Westmoreland were not impressed by empty words. They read men, sensed intentions. And above all, they respected those who carried burdens they understood.

And I carried one. My brother. My family.

That's why I was there.

I took a deep breath, adjusting my expression. Nothing forced. Just truth mixed with subtlety. He would see in me someone willing to do whatever it took for the one he loved. Because that was who he was.

And men like us always recognize each other.

I approached the quieter side of the courtyard, where the dust seemed to settle differently, less rush, less tension.

Charles Westmoreland sat there, straightening his beige shirt, on a worn bench, the shadow cast by the barbed wire fences across his weathered face. His cat, Marilyn, purred lazily at his feet.

I approached slowly, not wanting to seem invasive. Men like him noticed that quickly.

"Nice cat."

I commented, watching the feline eyes half-closed in the sun.

He looked up, gauging my intention before giving a slight smile.

"Thank you. She's been my faithful partner for years. In here, anything that reminds you of the outside world is gold."

I nodded, feeling the weight of those words. I knew the value that memories had in places like this.

"They say you're a legend around here."

I said it casually, as if I was just making conversation.

He let out a muffled laugh, as if he already knew where this was going.

"Every rookie that comes here hears this story. 'Charles Westmoreland is DB Cooper.' "

He shook his head nostalgically.

"But I'm sorry to disappoint you. I'm not him."

Smirking, I looked around, making sure no one was paying attention.

"Maybe it's true. Or maybe… after being here for too long, people just accept what you say. It's easier that way."

He stared at me for a moment, eyes narrowed, considering my words. There was no denial. There was no confirmation.

"What brings you here, boy?"

He asked, taking his focus off of himself.

I took a deep breath, choosing my words.

"Family."

My voice came out low but firm.

"It's always been about that. Protecting what I have left."

His expression changed for a second, almost imperceptibly. He understood. Men like us always understand.

"Family is... all that matters."

He murmured.

We were silent for a few seconds, just listening to the muffled sounds of the yard and Marilyn's soft meow. I knew this was the beginning. Westmoreland was careful, but he had noticed that I was too.

And in Fox River, respect started like this.

----

Sitting on the rough floor of Fox River State Penitentiary, I leaned my back against the cold concrete wall of the Industrial Penitentiary (IP). The hum of sewing machines filled the room like a mechanical symphony. Men moved about, working or pretending to work, but always alert to the movements of others. Every corner of the prison held secrets; every gesture could carry a hidden message.

I knew that my stay there would depend on my ability to decipher these signals. Communication in Fox River took place on two planes: the visible, which the guards could see, and the invisible, which circulated in murmurs, glances, and nods. I needed to access the second plane. To do so, my senses would have to sharpen.

I noticed a group of inmates laughing near the entrance to the PI, their eyes darting between each other and the guards. An inside joke or something more? I had learned that laughter here could hide veiled threats.

I looked away and focused on the sounds. A guard whispered something to a colleague near the exit door. The sound was muffled, but key words could mean a lot. The clang of metal echoed from a distant corner. A key? A tool being hidden? The sounds were clues, I needed to be able to hear them before others did.

At that moment, a familiar notification flashed in my mind.

[New Skill Unlocked: Keen Sense (Hearing) - Lv 1

Your hearing ability has been enhanced, allowing you to pick up subtle murmurs and noises with greater clarity.

Allows you to distinguish sounds in noisy environments and identify conversations from a distance.

The higher the level, the more accurate and detailed your auditory perception will be.]

I smiled lightly, without drawing attention to myself. Every little advantage made a difference. Here, information wasn't just power. It was survival.

The sun's heat beat down on the PI work area, reflecting off the cracked concrete blocks and dusty ground. I held the shovel tightly, feeling the rough wooden handle brush against my palms. My movements were calculated, unhurried, not attracting attention. Every blow to the gravel was thought out.

The new auditory sensitivity the System had granted me was beginning to prove useful. I could hear over the constant noise of manual labor. The metallic scrape of Lincoln's shovel meeting stone, the quiet murmur of two inmates in the corner exchanging something forbidden, and... the heavy boots of a guard scraping against the cement before he even came into view.

Each sound became a piece. I organized it all in my mind. Footsteps indicated the patrol's pace. Voices betrayed alliances and disagreements. Even the slight vibration of a tool cart squeaking on a rusty wheel was information I could use later.

Amid the dust and sweat, PI wasn't just hard work. It was a living chessboard. And I was beginning to hear every move.

I lowered my head as if concentrating on my sewing, but my ears were open to the world around me. The first step to mastering Fox River was to listen to what she had to say.