Self-Abandonment

——Stench.

Seaweed, salt, feces, the fishy reek of animals, vomit, and all sorts of indistinguishable odors tore into my nasal cavity and poured straight in.

After being stripped of my freedom, I was dragged by two snake-men to the lower level of the lower deck.

Rather than calling this place a warehouse, it would be better described as their junk storage area.

There were goods piled up here such as boxes and cylinders, but there were also mounds of seaweed or other plants just lying there, and even cages imprisoning strange and exotic animals.

And I was locked inside one of these cages, together with several others… who should, I suppose, be called “humans.”

“Cough, cough, cough!” “Meow…” “Meow-wu-wu…”

They had ears like cats on their heads, and tails.

These two females and one male wore clothes even more tattered than mine; their hands and feet were in shackles, and their drooping cat ears and occasional coughing wordlessly told of their frailty.

Their haggard expressions made it obvious they were ill; as cellmates, it couldn’t get any worse than this, and we couldn’t even communicate.

“Woof, woof, woof!” “Roar…”

The environment here was so dark that it was difficult to see the surroundings even during the day, but the beasts in the surrounding cages who welcomed my arrival did not hide their howling and low growls.

In contrast, my cellmates all hid at the other end of the cage; as long as there was the slightest intersection of our gazes, they would curl up in fear.

“This is… absolutely terrible.”

Leaning against the iron bars, ignoring the roars of some unknown creature constantly scratching at its cage behind me, I lowered my head and let out a deep sigh.

A pitch-black landscape without light, huh…

My gaze jumped away from the hemp rope biting tightly into my body, skipped through the gaps between the iron bars, and came to rest in that darkness.

I thought I had said goodbye to this kind of scenery forever.

——You selfish pieces of garbage, aaaaaah!

It was as if I could still hear the roar from five years ago when I saw the wanted poster.

Being arrested and imprisoned, spending days in a dungeon where the sun never shone.

Not only enduring physical pain, but even bearing the stigma of being the “Former Hero Killer.”

I was made out into the murderer of the former Hero… my grandfather.

Once, I endured such humiliation and heavy burdens, planning one revenge after another in prison, finally succeeding and getting the mark of the angel engraved on my right hand.

I became one of the Hero candidates.

In a magical society filled with the concepts of magic circuits, I, who had no magic circuit and absolutely no combat talent, saw that as the only time the heavens had lowered a rope to me.

Discrimination, ridicule, abuse, insult… I gritted my teeth and endured it all.

To become a Hero.

To take revenge.

To restore my fallen family…

I did not fail the angel’s expectations; even though I was treated with cold eyes by everyone, I finally became a Hero.

Yes, the incantation mark on my right hand is the undeniable proof.

I finally became a Hero, finally…

“Fi… nally…”

My vision grew hazy.

My hands, bound by rope, merged into the darkness of this place.

There was no light at all.

The candidate’s brand that once gave me guidance and direction in prison, and the Hero’s incantation mark that finally determined my path and granted me hope—all of it…

——You must die here.

It was destroyed by her.

By my own childhood friend.

By my first love.

By the person I loved.

“Damn it… damn it, damn it… damn it, aaaaaah…”

Yet, the fire of rage failed to ignite.

The cause and effect I finally recalled brought a despair deeper than anger.

I had originally… with such difficulty, finally grasped the future in my hands.

——Whatever, I’ve already become a Hero anyway.

Complacency.

——Everything is over now.

Pleasure.

——Why did the candidate follow along? Whatever, it’s useless to think too much.

Self-relaxation.

“Go… die… damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it! Go die, aaaaaah!”

I kept hitting the iron bars of the cage; my teeth, biting my lip, were already stained with blood, yet I had no intention of relaxing.

Pain… let it hurt, let it hurt! Ah!

“What’s the use of pain now… what’s the use of knowing regret now! Ah! Ah!”

Once, and then again.

The entire cage shook from the impact; my forehead had been hit until I could no longer feel pain, and my ears only rang with a buzzing tinnitus.

“Wooo… ah… ah… ah…”

Was it pain or grief? My powerless body slammed heavily into the iron bars once more, finally collapsing into a limp heap.

Allowing tears to flow freely, I stared blankly at the darkness before me.

Is there… any meaning left?

Being alive…