After I raised my hand, silence took over.
My hand was in the air, but it felt heavy... as if the air itself was trying to drag it down.
I could hear my own breath echoing inside me, and my heartbeat was pounding like drums inside my chest.
All eyes were on me.
All the stares… all the unspoken thoughts… all the silent judgments.
I wasn't seeking glory.
And I wasn't thinking, "I'm brave." No.
I was just trying to survive.
Then came the sound of footsteps.
Heavy… slow… steady footsteps.
The employer was approaching me.
His face was serious, without a smile.
His eyes locked onto mine, as if seeing through me.
He stopped in front of me—just two steps away.
He stared at me silently for a moment, then asked in a low but clear voice:
"Are you sure?"
I couldn't answer right away.
I wanted to say "yes," but the word got stuck in my throat.
All that came out was a whisper:
"Yes… I'm sorry, but I can't go."
His expression didn't change.
He kept looking at me. Then suddenly… he took a deep breath and turned to the rest of the workers.
"His courage is no less than those who are going."
I was stunned.
Did he… just praise me?
Then he continued:
"Admitting you're not ready is harder than pretending to be strong.
This young man will keep working with me if he wants, and I won't allow anyone to mock him."
I slowly lowered my hand, but my heart remained high.
Among the crowd, some turned their faces away in disappointment, others just stared at me like they couldn't comprehend.
But… no one laughed.
No one mocked me.
Even Luxian just let out a long breath, as if saying: "Weird… but he's got something."
The teenage boy remained calm as usual, as if the moment didn't concern him.
As for the middle-aged man, he stayed silent, watching me with steady eyes.
Then the employer moved again and said in a strong voice:
"Those coming with me, be ready in half an hour."
He turned and walked away.
And I stayed there… almost alone.
Yes, I wasn't going with them.
But I felt something like victory…
Small, quiet, but real.
The workers began to disperse.
Those who agreed to go started moving slowly toward the cart, gathering their things, exchanging side conversations, their voices rising—whether in excitement or hidden worry.
As for me… I stayed in place.
I looked at the hand I had raised just moments ago.
It was still trembling a little.
I smiled—not in mockery, but in relief.
"I survived… for now."
I heard footsteps approaching from behind.
I turned—and saw him.
The teenage boy.
He carried a small bag, his face still calm, but this time, his tone came sharp and direct:
> "You're a coward."
I stopped walking, but he didn't wait for a reply. He continued:
"Backing out when everyone agreed to go? Even I, a teenager, chose to face it.
Forget it—fewer hands, more money."
He stared at me for a few seconds, then shook his head like he'd lost interest, turned his back, and walked off toward the cart without looking back.
His words stung… but they weren't wrong.
I had nothing to say to him.
I turned my face away—not to ignore him, but to stop myself from spiraling into his words.
---
I stood there for a moment, watching his back disappear among the crowd.
His words echoed in my mind, stinging like a chill in a warm summer night.
"You're a coward."
Was I really a coward?
Or was I just trying to survive in my own way?
I breathed slowly, trying to quiet the flames of shame and doubt burning inside me.
But what he didn't know… was that I wasn't alone in this.
There was something else in the boy's eyes—it wasn't just harshness.
Maybe… maybe he understood me.
I stopped thinking and turned away, trying to gather my thoughts away from mockery and blame.
---
When I went to continue the usual chores, I thought it was over.
But no.
Something kept bothering me—like a thorn stuck deep inside I couldn't pull out.
"You're a coward."
The boy's words kept repeating in my head.
I clenched my fists tightly—until I felt my nails digging into my palms.
"I'm not a coward…" I muttered under my breath.
Then I suddenly raised my head and shouted:
"I'm not a coward!"
Two workers nearby turned to me in confusion.
I quickly looked down and pretended I was just mumbling to myself.
"I just… I just want to survive. I don't want to die.
I want to find my family. I want a long life.
I…"
I stopped.
As if even my voice was ashamed of me.
I thought… maybe those monsters they're going to hunt aren't that dangerous.
Maybe… the employer will protect us, especially since he seems strong and experienced.
And beyond all that… the reward.
"The money might be enough… to live for months. To find a way to search for my family.
Maybe even escape this place."
I took a deep breath.
I stood still for a moment, then took a step forward… then another.
I was approaching the cart, where those who chose to go were getting ready.
From afar, I saw the employer, standing and talking to a man with a strong build.
I hesitated—my heart started pounding fast.
What if he mocks me? What if he says no? What if… I'm too late?
But I kept going.
Step by step… until I stood behind him, just a few paces away.
"S-Sir…"
He turned to me. His gaze was calm.
I swallowed hard, then said in a quiet voice:
"I… changed my mind. I want to go with you."
He didn't answer immediately.
He looked at me closely.
Then, in a low voice—no smile, no scolding—he said:
"Bring what you need. We leave in ten minutes."
And he turned back to continue his conversation.
He didn't say "Well done" or "I knew you'd come."
But… he accepted my request.
And I…
I felt like I had opened a new door.
A door that might lead me to survival…
Or to the edge.
And even as I walked toward them…
It felt like I was walking toward a cage, not a chance .