After the Forced Labor Ended, My Life Felt… Empty.
Weird, right? Normally, people would cheer after being freed from hard labor.
But I just felt awkward waking up in the morning without someone barking at me to grab a shovel and lift stones.
I decided it was time to start preparing for the capital.
Tomorrow morning, I'll leave.
Today, I went out to buy some travel supplies—bandages, dry food, a spare water pouch, and something vaguely resembling a map sold by a kid on the side of the road.
The price? Of course it was ridiculous.
But I've stopped being surprised at the prices in this city.
Every time I pass near the wall I helped build—the one where I once clawed at the ground, collapsed, and nearly passed out—I feel a tightness in my chest.
There's a faint image of me from last week: dirty, exhausted, and on the verge of giving up.
That wall stands tall, solid, and majestic—like a symbol of achievement.
But to me, it's a small monument of silent suffering.
I even stopped for a moment, staring at the wall. Then quietly said,
"Don't worry, I'm not coming back."
Trauma? Maybe that sounds too dramatic.
But my body knows.
Every time I hear the sound of a shovel or wood being slammed, my shoulders tense up on reflex.
Sometimes at night, I wake up from dreams where the overseer chases me down, screaming for me to push a cart loaded with stones three times my weight.
And just this afternoon, when I opened my long-neglected Adventure Knight license, I realized:
My residency permit in Matei only has three days left.
THREE. DAYS. LEFT.
"Whew, that was close," I muttered.
If I were still stuck in that labor, I might have overstayed and been deported.
Or worse—being a syndicate of spy knight from another Kingdom…
As dusk fell, I returned to my inn room.
I sat down, spread the crumpled map on the bed, and tried to plan the safest route
(with the least possible interaction with Matei's people).
Matei has taught me enough life lessons.
Now, it's time to move on.
Tomorrow, I leave.
Leaving behind a city of scams, scars, and stone walls.
The capital awaits.
At the Crack of Dawn.
I woke up, slung a small backpack over my shoulder—paid for with savings and soul-crushing forced labor—and walked toward the gates of Matei.
My steps were light… until I saw that.
A board.
A giant, absurdly tacky board with all-caps writing, like a discount flyer printed from a dying printer.
"SELL YOUR FINGERPRINTS TODAY! GET 5 GOLD FOR FREE! JUST FOR TODAY! USELESS, WE PROMISE!"
I... stood still.
Blinking twice.
Rubbing my eyes.
Looking again.
This wasn't a dream.
This was reality.
Right in front of me was a line of Matei citizens—the city's finest local scam artists—standing in queue with their hands out.
Some were grinning.
Some were munching on stale bread.
Some even looked proud.
"Wait—you're lining up for this?" I asked the old man who, if I remembered correctly, had scammed me last week by selling me a so-called 'Direction to the Guild'—which turned out to be a single arrow drawn on a piece of paper—for one silver coin.
He grinned.
"This is smart business, miss! The government says fingerprints are just a myth. Ancient tech. We don't even use tech anymore!"
…Okay.
I squinted at the city official standing by the registration table—grinning wide as he stamped people's hands and handed them… 5 Gold.
As a "reward."
So… this is how it works?
Sell your biometric data for 5 Gold and a sweet little lie?
God.
I didn't even know whether to laugh or cry.
If this wasn't peak scam culture, I had no idea what was.
Of course I didn't join.
My brain still functioned, and my trust in Matei's government was thinner than onion skin.
And I knew one thing for sure: if the government says something is "not important,"
…it's probably the most important thing in the world.
And sure enough, I remembered a rumor I heard from a traveling merchant at the inn last night:
In the capital, the government was preparing to roll out a fingerprint system for all bank transactions and property ownership.
Meaning?
Anyone with someone else's fingerprint… could drain their entire life.
Congratulations, citizens of Matei!
You just sold your future for 5 Gold.
Brilliant.
I took a deep breath and glanced back—at the city of deceit, forced labor, and the most ridiculous sign I've ever seen.
"That's it. I'm done."
And just like that, I stepped past Matei's gates.
Toward a world that—hopefully—is a little saner than this.