Just after breakfast the next day, a visitor came to call at the labyrinth. The sound of a wooden door creaking open—even though we didn’t actually have a creaky wooden door—preceded Karumi’s appearance. I sure hadn’t been expecting my supervisor to drop in.
“Pardon me for bothering you so early in the morning, Kousaka-san, but this is urgent.”
She was wearing a modern women’s suit that looked completely out of place in Labyrinth #228, and her smile looked rather strained. I couldn’t really judge her for wearing out-of-place clothing, though—I was wearing a suit myself.
That smile was making me nervous. The last time she’d given me a smile like that, she’d just realized that she’d forgotten to have me fill out some document before joining the company, and I almost didn’t get paid my initial salary. Karumi was an incredibly capable woman most of the time, but even she had her airheaded moments. It was Karumi’s carelessness that had gotten me thrown into a rough cabin in a forgotten patch of land called Labyrinth #228 with just the clothes on my back, leaving me in a three-month survival game.
“Is something the matter? Again?”
“Erm, yes. Again.”
“Not again.”
I hoped it wasn’t as bad as the previous time, at least. She looked so clever and responsible, which made this dorky side of her rather cute. I would’ve been grinning if I wasn’t the one who always ended up suffering because of it.
“Wait a minute. I’ll get you some tea.”
It probably looked like I was being hospitable, but the truth was I just wanted to calm my nerves with a nice cup of tea.
“Okay, sorry for the delay. Now, what happened?” We all sat down, each of us with a cup of herbal tea that Ann had prepared earlier, and she cut straight to the chase.
“In six months, Labyrinth #228 will be evaluated on its achievements for the past two decades.”
Evaluation? What, like a company performance review? It wasn’t like they were going around badgering labyrinths for results, right? If their goal was to make money, they’d have been better off just selling the land. Also, if this was going to be a twenty-year evaluation, would they really be looking at my labyrinth? It was still unfinished, and I hadn’t even been here for half a year yet!
“Why is there an evaluation on the labyrinth in six months if it’s not even completed?”
“The official records state that it is fully operational, with all facilities up and running.”
Oh right, it was all coming back to me. That was the real reason I’d gotten thrown into such a tight spot in the first place: my labyrinth had been a victim of embezzlement. The previous manager had absconded with the budget, leaving behind nothing but a lousy cabin and a slip of paper claiming all the work was done. This wasn’t good.
“But remember? The last guy did nothing but run off with all the funding that was supposed to get the labyrinth up and running.”
“...”
The way she didn’t respond to that was pretty ominous. Throw me a bone here, Karumi!
“I did think the budget was strangely flexible for this project.”
“Is that so.”
No point in pressing the issue, I decided.
“So, what are they going to expect from the labyrinth at this evaluation?”
“It differs from labyrinth to labyrinth. The main purpose of Labyrinth #228 is to attract people, so the key metrics are number of intruders, number of repelled intruders, and number of deaths inside the labyrinth. Those will be added up and weighted to give you a score.”
So, I needed intruders. Hold up, but nobody could even get into or out of this place until I dug that staircase in the cliff, right?
“I don’t know if I want to hear the answer, but how many of each of those do I have currently?”
“Zero, across the board.”
Figured. For someone to stumble across this place, they’d probably have to be trying to get lost.
“How do the other labyrinths pass their performance evaluations?”
“Almost none of the labyrinths under my supervision ever have intruders.”
Well, yes, full-fledged labyrinths weren’t exactly popular hangout spots.
“So they don’t get a lot of points that way. Instead, most of them try to earn points off of deaths inside the labyrinth.”
“How do they get so many deaths, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Usually by breeding livestock and then slaughtering them for meat. Similarly, you can raise fish in ponds or lakes.”
So ranching and farming fish counted towards labyrinth deaths? It kinda felt like they were gaming the system.
“A handful of managers have turned their labyrinths into hospitals and provide cheap medical care to nearby residents. Even a death of old age is still a death, and the lives of humans and Daemons are worth more points than livestock or fish, so they go more for quality over quantity.”
Most people would go to the hospital if it was cheap, and certainly a lot of people did pass on from old age, as well as from illnesses and whatnot. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to a hospital where they got points if I died.
“If we tried one of those methods for Labyrinth #228, would we get enough points in time?”
“No. Those are slow-and-steady methods, sufficient to pass the evaluation if you do them constantly for twenty years, but not enough to put up the numbers you need in half a year.”
Yep, thought as much.
“And what will happen if I don’t pass the evaluation?”
I was probably looking at a hefty pay cut.
“Your labyrinth will be subjected to a detailed inspection. If one’s facilities and personnel are up to snuff, they can certainly pass the inspection, but in your case...”
Facilities? I glanced over at the only building gracing the undeveloped natural landscape of Labyrinth #228, my lousy cabin. And personnel? There was just me and Ann. Hell, the shabby houses in Milt were more developed than this place.
“Can we pass?”
Karumi’s smile was more of a grimace. She slowly shook her head. Was she laughing? And also crying? That bad, huh? Ha ha hah... I kinda felt like crying, too
“What happens if I fail?”
“The usual procedure is just to fix up the labyrinth and get it operational again, but in extreme cases, they might opt to shut down the labyrinth. They typically only do that when the loss of the labyrinth won’t mean any real loss of assets... which is certainly the situation here.”
Karumi gazed out at the nearly empty Labyrinth #228, her eyes distant.
“What’ll happen to me and Ann?”
“You’re an official employee, so you’d be relocated to a semi-operational labyrinth. One that’s in progress but not occupied yet. Think of it as getting transferred.”
So I’d be transferred before I’d even been at my post for a year? I’d gotten kinda attached to Labyrinth #228. I’d regret leaving it all behind so soon.
“Aoi...”
Ann, who had been eating some candy Karumi had brought, reached out and took hold of my sleeve.
“Since you have hired Ann, she’ll be treated as a member of the manager’s family, and it’ll be up to her whether to transfer along with you or to resign and return to the village.”
If Ann came with me, she’d be separated from her friends and family in the village for the rest of her life. But if she resigned, then the two of us would have to part. It would have been hard enough to say goodbye to the villagers after all we’d shared, but leaving Ann was simply out of the question.
“I don’t want to leave you, Aoi.”
Ann looked up at me, her eyes filled with worry, so I put my arms around her and stroked her hair.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. And you’ll help me, right?”
“Yeah! I’m always here for you!”
Ann gave me a winsome smile. Ahh, I could feel my heart warming. Just knowing I wouldn’t be alone was encouraging. In a part of my mind, I’d been worrying that Ann wouldn’t want to stay with me.
“I would like to find a way to pass the inspection.”
I gave my answer as Ann snuggled into my chest.
“That would be ideal. If one of the facilities under my supervision fails its evaluation, the Great Dark Lord will most likely call me in for punishment.”
Karumi went pale as she spoke. It seemed failure was not an option for subordinates of the Great Dark Lord.
“Is it really that bad?”
“Father practically idoli—pardon, that is to say, he cares for me deeply, so I’m in no real danger.”
Oh yeah, I’d forgotten she was the Great Dark Lord’s daughter. Had she been about to say he idolized her?
“If I were taken in for punishment, well... First, Father would have me outfitted in a gown suitable for a princess. Then he would hold a ball in my honor and demand to pamper me, just like he did when I was a child.”
Karumi laid it all out in such great detail that it was apparent she’d been through it before. Come to think of it, given her occasional bouts of airheadedness, she’d probably been through that more than a few times. My terrifying image of the Great Dark Lord was crumbling fast. But still, Karumi was worried about it, so I wanted to help her out. She’s got a great figure, though. Bet she’d look fantastic in a gown, whatever the style.
“I’m a grown woman. I don’t deserve to be subjected to the princess treatment anymore. It isn’t right!”
She must’ve had some bad memories about it. She was tearing up a bit, her shoulders quivering. Karumi was always so cool and collected, but my heart skipped a beat when I saw her looking so distraught. Had she always been this cute? Man, I could kind of understand how the Great Dark Lord felt about her. Though, yeah, she was a bit too mature for the whole princess look. Man, was it weird that I kinda wanted to get away from this train of thought and go back to the gloomy conversation from before?