Chapter 70 : Walpurgis Night (70)

The atmosphere inside the store was eerie.

Shelves that had once been neatly arranged were now toppled or in disarray, and rainwater pooled on the floor, sloshing beneath their feet. 

Without the glowing stone in hand, they wouldn’t have been able to see an inch ahead—it was that dark.

But more importantly, everything was completely emptied.

Hans wasn’t particularly surprised—it was the outcome he had anticipated. 

He only scowled and muttered a low curse.

“Damn it. Of course.”

When food runs short, where do people go first? 

Even Hans and Alje hadn’t been in urgent need of supplies; they’d waited for the storm to settle somewhat before crawling out here.

But what about those who were desperate enough to throw themselves into the storm, on the verge of starvation? 

Where would they head first? 

The answer was obvious.

Still, the reason Hans had bothered checking the grocery store was twofold: first, on the off chance that something had been overlooked, and second.

“This isn’t good.”

“Huh? What isn’t?”

“It’s nothing. Alje, keep looking around a bit more.”

“Okay!”

In extreme circumstances, humans have no choice but to stick together. 

And the fact that this place—while not the only grocery store in Schindel Strasse—was specifically looted, meant the group responsible had been operating nearby.

It was a way to preemptively assess the danger of overlapping territory. 

How many were they? 

And what kind of people?

Finding out wasn’t difficult. 

The raiders hadn’t even bothered to hide their tracks; their disorderly mess was all the more telling. 

In fact, that very carelessness was a red flag.

Small animals erase every trace of their footsteps to avoid predators—but would a beast, already grown massive, cower and flee from other prey?

‘At least fifteen of them. And… extremely aggressive.’

In the end, those who survive the Labyrinth fall into two categories: those who can fight, and those who can’t.

The “non-combatants” of Kumo Strasse—gatherers—were disposable, easily replaced. 

It’s the fate that most who fail to adapt to the Labyrinth meet. 

But the “non-combatants” of Schindel Strasse—guides.

Hans had always looked down on them as bookworms, but even he had to admit this much: to survive here without fighting meant they were outstanding in other ways.

They were the kind of people who knew how to win without fighting. 

Thankfully, none like that seemed present in this group.

Which meant—it was good news, in a twisted sense. 

A band of raiders, each likely a hunter—no, an “explorer”—possibly more skilled than Hans, was lurking nearby.

“Hey, mister! I found food!”

“Really?”

What followed wasn’t just a hopeful shout—it was genuinely good news. 

Still, Hans didn’t get his hopes up.

He hadn’t expected anything in the first place, so there was no room for disappointment even after seeing what Alje brought back. 

The girl had been searching the other corner of the shop and now held up a small, dangling prize—a can of preserved meat, miraculously intact amidst the wreckage.

Even if the broth inside was a bit thick, judging by the color, it didn’t seem inedible.

“Don’t touch it. It’s not something you can eat.”

“Huh? It looks perfectly fine. Look, it even smells appetizing.”

“It’s mixed with monster blood.”

“Ah…”

Hans didn’t even need to smell it to figure it out easily. 

The faint trace where the lid had been opened once and resealed, the sediment floating at the bottom—above all, his past experience when a former comrade had once served him soup mixed with monster blood was a huge lesson.

It was obviously a trap from the start. 

Could it be that they accidentally dropped one or two cans? 

No way. 

They took everything they could and left the things they couldn’t carry behind as traps.

For those latecomers who would visit this place after they had left. 

Hans had at least managed to eat properly and keep his wits about him, but if some starving soul found that can… Well, could even he have exercised the same self-restraint as the two of them?

“…Why?”

After listening carefully to Hans’s explanation, Alje was silent for a long moment before finally squeezing out those words.

“What do you mean why?”

“Why would the people who came before do something like that? It doesn’t benefit them at all.”

“It doesn’t.”

“And it’s not like this is always going to be like this, right?”

“No. Though it’s a mess now, the city will be magically restored before long.”

It wasn’t some uncertain optimism. 

After all, why would there be a resting place like Heimvig inside the Labyrinth?

Because witches pity the humans who fell into the Labyrinth? 

That’s nonsense. 

If so, they simply wouldn’t throw humans into the Labyrinth in the first place.

The answer is because it’s necessary. 

So, once their tantrum is over, the witches will restore everything back to how it was.

“And… the people who come here first must be those who lived nearby, right? Neighbors.”

“That’s right. You’ve even managed to figure that out.”

“But no matter how much I think about it, it all comes back to the same question.Why do they do such things?”

It didn’t make sense. 

There was no benefit, and it only harmed innocent neighbors who once exchanged greetings until this happened.

Unlike Alje, who was confused, Hans spoke with a refreshingly straightforward tone.

“Just because.”

“Huh?”

“Alje, not everyone in this world acts rationally.”

If you’re hungry, you eat. 

If you’re sleepy, you sleep. 

You do things simply because you can.

How many people live with that kind of beastly heart and mindset?

“But that alone doesn’t explain it.”

“Hm?”

“I know someone can impulsively do bad things, but you acted like you were sure something like this would happen.”

Alje had already stopped dead in her tracks, but Hans kept moving as they talked, sometimes close, sometimes distant.

From one point of view, it was a pointless act. 

Scattered everywhere were only all sorts of trash and debris. 

Anything remotely useful had already been taken, or, like the canned meat Alje found earlier, was tainted with malice.

But Hans carefully examined all of it as if licking up the dust from the floor. 

Inefficient as it might be, this was how he had always lived.

“Right.”

“It feels like I keep asking the same question, but why?”

That’s why he survived so far, even while operating alone without joining a group.

“Alje, do you know why we fell into the Labyrinth?”

“Uh…”

“No. Since you’re a somewhat special case, I’ll rephrase the question more appropriately. Why do you think the people in the Labyrinth ended up here?”

It was obvious that Alje was dragged in because she was a monster.

But humans? 

The Labyrinth originally traps only monsters. 

The humans who fell into the Labyrinth were caught and thrown into this abyss personally by the witches.

“There are both good and evil people in the Labyrinth. 

The people here themselves often mistake this, but the Labyrinth doesn’t trap people based on good or evil. 

Simply put, only the bad ones survive here.

Knights, retired veterans, snot-nosed kids, bakery girls, even death row inmates—all kinds fall indiscriminately. 

Do you know what they all have in common?”

“What do they have in common?”

“Nothing.”

They share no common trait at all.

Hans was a foolish farmer, and his friend was a wise scholar. 

They even met hunters from wild tribes running through jungles and exiled guardian knight candidates.

If there’s one thing they share, it’s this: they caught the witches’ attention.

Not because they did anything to the witches or became their revenge targets, but just because they happened to be noticed—a bit of bad luck, nothing more.

Everyone here is stuck in an inescapable quagmire.

“That’s how it is.”

His calm voice showed no hint of resignation. 

He spoke as if discussing something as obvious as water flowing downward or the sun rising over the horizon.

“Of all the malice in the world, more often than not, it has no reason at all.”

From the grocery store search, all they found were five cans of preserved food. 

Three were meat, two were fruit, all stained with traces of monster blood.

Hans carefully gathered them all.

“Why are you keeping the cans?”

“To give as gifts if I meet other people later.”

A truly miserable, messed-up world where victims of malice indiscriminately spread malice again and again.

“Want to bet? If someone starving to death receives this, what choice do you think they’ll make? Even if I tell them it’s mixed with monster blood, they’d rather die with a full belly than a starving one.”

“…No thanks.”

Seeing Alje’s face change, Hans gave a dry little smile.

“If you don’t want to, you can use it as your emergency food.”

“Huh?”

“Alje, monster blood isn’t poison for you. It might even be beneficial.”

“Ah… right! I’ll eat it all!”

Watching the girl eagerly take the cans, Hans just chuckled quietly.

Just because others act like fools doesn’t mean he has to join in their nonsense. 

He only threatened with words; he never intended otherwise from the start.

Because she was the kind of person Alje was, Hans could never give up on her.

In this whole world stained with malice and filth, he was so grateful for the existence of a girl who could accept anything and remain pure until the end.