What awaits a person? Isn't it all just misery?
While I toil away in this darkness, countless thoughts race through my head. Is this it? My life? How pitiful. I've struggled for so long, but this is all I have in the end—trapped in the darkness with nothing in sight. The people I came with are all dead now. Starvation took some, traps claimed others, and some bastards even betrayed us. Fucking cowards.
I've survived as long as I could, but now this is my end. After fighting and clawing my way out, I reached the entrance only to find those traitorous bastards had sealed me in here. I swear, if I ever get out of this place, I'll kill them all.
Let me tell you my story before I pass from this world. I'm Benny McTown. How old am I? Twenty-nine now, though I guess that doesn't matter much anymore. This place is a labyrinth that had just opened—a newly discovered one with almost no information about what lies within.
But desperation drove me here. Being a weak, cowardly fool, I decided to try my luck in this hellhole. After wandering as a jobless vagrant for so long, I'd finally decided to change for the better. I found decent work as a city guardsman. I wasn't bad at it either. The job paid well, and mostly we just stood around doing nothing.
The position opened up after I'd been rejected from everywhere else—taverns, inns, even basic labor jobs. I sucked at all of them. Yes, I'm afraid of people. I don't want to associate with them. It's a lingering trauma that shapes how I view others. Due to how I've lived my life, I may have acted tough all those times, but inside I was weak and cowardly.
I only spoke to people when necessary. Other than that, I'd always lived alone.
Going back to when I got accepted for the job—the scary-looking captain of the city guards conducted my interview. I was sweating buckets, feeling my nervousness and anxiety rising. My stomach felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. But I managed to put on a stoic face, an outward facade of confidence. I realized that if I didn't get this job, I'd likely die. Though I was a vagrant, I wasn't a thief. I worked odd jobs here and there just to survive. I never bothered anyone or asked for help. I was determined to get through it all by myself.
This was my first real job interview, so I had no idea how to act. I could read and write—I'd learned from a passing scholar when I was a boy—but that was the extent of my education.
During the interview, the captain asked me and the other candidates various questions. He didn't say much afterward, just told us to wait.
The final test was a battle simulation between all the interviewees and the guard captain himself. Having no background in fighting, I tried everything I could think of just to survive the ordeal. My physical condition wasn't well-trained, but since I'd survived on the streets for so long, I'd picked up some basic movement skills here and there.
My heart was racing—this was my first real combat experience. I'd fought people before, but those were street fights with makeshift weapons. This required proper swords, spears, and shields. I went barehanded because the other interviewees had grabbed all the weapons near me. Due to my cowardly nature, I decided not to venture more than two feet from my safe zone.
So there I was, facing the sword of the guard captain. It was only a wooden practice sword, but it carried enough force to cause real injury.
Since I needed the money, I couldn't afford to get hurt. I avoided attacks as much as possible, even running when necessary. Other candidates used me as bait to attack the captain, but they were easily defeated. Soon, I was the only one left standing.
Well, "standing" might be generous. I may have dodged most of the fatal attacks, but blunt wounds covered my body. Gasping for breath and utterly exhausted, I was ready to give up. My will had long been broken. But there's another side of me—a different part that keeps me going once I set my mind to something. It doesn't matter if I'm paralyzed by fear. As long as possible, I don't want to do anything that might harm me. I'm a coward, after all.
I caught a slight smirk on the captain's face. He was definitely smiling, though I couldn't understand why.
Whatever. I had to pick up a weapon—anything. I just wanted to land one blow on this bastard who'd been toying with us for the past thirty minutes.
The nearest weapons were a spear, a club, and a sword. There was also a shield a couple of meters away. My mind raced to calculate distances, but I had no concept of strategy in this situation. Only the desperate will of the weak drove me forward. But why was I doing all this? It was so fucking exhausting. Why was I working so hard when I didn't even know if I'd be accepted?
I flailed my tired arms and charged at the captain. That was the bravest thing I'd done in my entire life. Was it because I was too tired to care anymore? Or had I already accepted death?
Whatever the reason, I did it. The captain just stood there. Then—bang! My lights went out.
Five years have passed since that incident, and somehow I got accepted into the guard squadron. I still don't know why I passed that test.
It had been so long since then that I'd managed to get myself a house. Though it was tiny and mostly empty since I lived alone, it was the first thing I'd ever worked hard enough to buy.
But now all of that has gone to shit.
After a new labyrinth was discovered, the city was eager to send their own people there since it lay within our territorial boundaries. It was a fresh labyrinth that no one had any information about.
When it came time to choose who to send, the city enticed many with lucrative rewards. But they knew most people wouldn't come back alive. Only fools would volunteer to be pioneers when a labyrinth first opens.
Blinded by greed—and maybe a bit of foolish hope—I volunteered too. I thought I'd grown stronger over the past five years, but the guard captain looked disappointed when I stepped forward. He didn't say a word, just walked away and signed my release papers. Now I understand the look on his face.
Here I am, stuck in this place, barely surviving against the monsters that call this labyrinth home. These creatures are new, not found in any books, so we had no knowledge about them going in.
We struggled for days on end, only to be stabbed in the back during our most desperate hour. Those who ran off used us as bait for the monsters, then sealed the entrance shut behind them.
I understand their reasoning, but it's still fucking frustrating. I'd just figured out my life, and now I'm trapped here. Damn it all.
Well, if this is my end, then I guess this is it. I've always been like this—a weak-willed person—so it's easy to give up. But who cares? There's no one waiting for me out there. I've realized lately that there isn't much meaning to life anyway. It's a cycle that will end someday, and it doesn't matter when, because sooner or later, death comes for all of us.
Yes, death... I'm afraid, but it's also a liberating feeling.