“Oh? There it is again — that sneaky little look~”
Women are especially sensitive to those kinds of stares.
Alje always brushed it off with a playful laugh, but even she must have sometimes felt the flames flickering in Hans’s eyes.
Especially when she was clothed — when the empty space where her endlessly bleeding heart should have been was hidden from view — she felt it even more keenly than when she stood bare.
But unlike the times when she’d just tease him and let it slide, this time Hans didn’t even try to play along.
“It’s just… the place I’m heading to is a bit far. And, well, dangerous.”
A lie so thin, it fell apart the moment it left his lips.
For once, the girl’s usual innocence didn’t make him feel at ease — it jabbed at his conscience instead.
“Is there anything out there dangerous enough to threaten me?”
Her wide-eyed question might’ve come off as arrogance or ignorance, but it was neither.
It was simply the truth.
A girl who could shatter the Executioner Bug’s armor-like shell with raw physical strength had little to fear in this labyrinth.
There were forbidden zones in this world that even she might find dangerous — but Hans knew better than to even approach places like that.
And that swamp they were heading to?
The sticky, annoying ground might be a pain to walk on, but it wasn’t especially dangerous.
In fact, leaving Alje alone was probably the more reckless decision.
In this twisted labyrinth, death wasn’t always the worst thing that could happen.
The people who didn’t understand that simple truth were the ones who clung too tightly to dignity — and they’d long since exercised their ultimate right as intelligent beings.
The right to end their own lives.
“…It’s not so much that you’d be in danger… as that I would be.”
“You?”
Hans wasn’t a saint.
His selflessness only extended as far as his own comfort and capacity allowed — and even then, only to a small handful of people.
At the end of the day, his own survival would always come first.
So even now, trying to distance himself from Alje wasn’t for her sake.
It was for his own.
He always felt the warmth of the girl clinging close to him, heard the rhythm of her heart — and in those moments, the thought of Gretel watching him from afar, monitoring his every move, was enough to keep him on edge.
He couldn’t be sure she was watching… but the possibility was enough to make this dangerous.
“I… need to move quietly. And, well, Alje, stealth isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
“…So you’re saying I’m useless?”
Alje’s shoulders slumped, her voice soft and uncertain.
But even that wasn’t enough to shake Hans’s resolve.
That didn’t mean he could agree outright, though — so instead, he scrambled to come up with a more convincing excuse.
“It’s not that. We need someone to stay and guard the bugs, right?”
“Ugh. You want me to guard those things?”
“Monsters aren’t picky eaters.”
Granted, there was a pretty clear counterexample standing right in front of him — but she was an exception.
In truth, most monsters wouldn’t bother with Executioner Bugs.
Their shells were so tough that only a handful of creatures could crack them open to get at the meat inside.
Sure, one or two might get picked off — but Hans had prepared eight of them.
Even if they were left unattended, there wouldn’t be much of an issue.
Still, he lied without hesitation.
“One of us has to stay, and one of us has to go. And Alje, you don’t really know the swamp’s ecosystem, right? That’s why it makes more sense for me to handle it.”
“…Is that so?”
It wasn’t.
If it were, Hans never would have survived all this time working solo.
There were plenty of ways to manage it.
But Alje wasn’t particularly well-versed in the details of the labyrinth — so he figured he could get away with it.
Or at least, he thought he could.
“That swamp? It’s the one east of here, along the border, right? The one where the water makes the plants grow so thick, most monsters avoid it entirely. What’s so dangerous about that?”
“…Huh?”
Her response was so quick, so smooth, that Hans was momentarily speechless.
How the hell did she know that?
Knowledge of the labyrinth’s ecosystem wasn’t something you could learn.
It was something you survived long enough to pick up.
And even then, only from the very bottom.
Sure, there were witches who occasionally wandered the labyrinth — but even they wouldn’t bother with such details.
Their perspective was too far removed from the reality of those struggling on the ground.
This kind of knowledge… only those who scurried and hid at the lowest rungs of the food chain would know it.
“Besides, in that state, there aren’t many creatures that could crack the Executioner Bugs’ shells. We don’t really need to guard them, right?”
“…Have you been here before?”
Hans’s lie had been flimsy from the start — the kind of thing anyone with real knowledge of the labyrinth could see through immediately.
But he hadn’t even considered that Alje might know enough to catch him.
And now, with the truth out in the open, she wasn’t pouting or teasing him.
She just stared at him with a calm, expectant look.
“Hans… why are you lying to me?”
He hadn’t prepared for this.
And there was no way he could explain the real reason.
Because the desire to keep Alje untainted… wasn’t just for her sake.
It was for his own.
But as the leash on his self-control slowly began to slip, darker thoughts began to stir.
If this labyrinth was nothing but filth… then hoping to stay clean forever was a fool’s dream.
And if she was destined to be stained anyway.
“Wouldn’t it be better if!”
“Hans?”
The soft sound of his name snapped him out of his dangerous spiral.
Noticing the strange daze he’d fallen into, Alje tilted her head and stepped closer — so close that he could see the long sweep of her lashes, the smoothness of her skin.
And from her warmth rose a sweet, soft scent — like cream and sugar, gentle and intoxicating.
Even though they’d both rolled through the dust, sweated, washed in toxic water, and slept on the ground — she remained flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of their environment.
That perfection, something that would naturally inspire admiration and fascination in anyone, had the opposite effect on Hans.
It brought his rationality crashing back.
“Stay here.”
The words left his mouth, hard and cold.
Hans knew better than anyone how easily extreme conditions could wear people down and ruin them.
And yet, after days of wandering the labyrinth, not a speck of dirt had found its way under her nails?
“But—!”
Alje started, her voice anxious.
“If you know the labyrinth so well,”
Hans cut her off, “then you should know this, too — during an expedition, the leader’s orders take priority.”
“…”
Just as Alje hadn’t answered his question about her knowledge of the labyrinth, Hans gave no explanation for the lies he’d told.
“I’m saying this for your own good.”
“Really?”
“…Well, about half of it is.”
He’d thought she was slow on the uptake — but he’d been wrong.
Alje was sharp.
The only reason she’d seemed so unresponsive to the world around her until now was simple: she just hadn’t cared.
But when it came to Hans, her “interest” was so obvious even a stone-hearted man couldn’t ignore it.
Even so, Hans had no intention of entertaining those feelings.
And considering the sheer innocence of her behavior, he wasn’t even sure if her interest was the same kind he was thinking of.
And even if it was, Hans wasn’t the kind of man who wagged his tail for just anyone.
“So half of it is a lie, then!”
Dogs were kept to guard homes and chase off intruders.
But if a dog licked a stranger’s hand instead of baring its teeth.
What use was a dog like that?
In a world like this, where even looking after himself was a struggle, the very idea of keeping a “pet” or “companion animal” was laughable — the kind of nonsense only a madman would entertain.
Especially in this labyrinth.
So yes — half of what he said was true.
And the other half?
That was purely for his own sake.
“Enough.”
Hans cut her off again, unwilling to keep the conversation going.
“Stay here. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“…You’re not trying to abandon me, are you?”
“Abandon you? What are you talking about?”
Hans let out a quiet chuckle and reached out, pressing down gently on Alje’s head.
Her head was so small it fit perfectly under his large, calloused hand.
Human beings were too complex to be summed up in a single sentence.
Right now, Hans wanted her.
And at the same time, he felt a strange kind of longing — a desire to protect the purity he’d lost long ago.
“As for Alje…”
Well, there had to be more to her than just two sides, too.
“I’m not going far. The swamp’s sticky and annoying — no reason for you to suffer through it, too.”
“…Hmm.”
“Just stay around here and watch the bugs, alright?”
Hans’s voice sounded considerate on the surface — but the firmness in his tone left no room for argument.
Alje’s mouth pressed into a thin line as she fell silent.
Hans’s gaze softened slightly as he looked into her golden eyes — eyes like polished amber, so vibrant and full of color.
The kind of sunset hue you’d never see in this miserable labyrinth.
It was a color he loved.
And if you looked long enough, those seemingly ordinary eyes would split, like the compound eyes of an insect — thousands of tiny facets, blending into one.
Even a seasoned hunter would have to strain to catch the faintest hint of wrongness in her disguise.
Her mimicry was flawless.
And if her appearance was that perfect, her inner nature likely wasn’t far behind.
Considering that Alje wasn’t fully grown — not even fully matured as a monster — it stood to reason that she’d only become more perfect with time.
“Got it?”
Finally, after a long hesitation, Alje gave a reluctant nod.