This is my first work so please support me, I have been wanting to be a novelist ever since I was young. It was something like a dream come true when I finally got the chance to write my own novel, It may not be the best also since English is not my first language but I still look forward to making improvement in my work. Thank you.
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The ground beneath me is cold, the air thick with smoke and the stench of destruction. Monsters rampage through the city, their roars echoing in the distance, but none of it matters anymore. I can barely move, blood pooling around me, my body screaming in agony.
Ten years. Ten years since the sky cracked open and swallowed our world whole. Since monsters clawed their way into our cities and our lives. And what has the hunter organization done in all that time? Gathered power, hoarded wealth, and abandoned the very people they swore to protect.
I can barely make out the figures running through the streets, the survivors scrambling to flee. They're nothing but ants in this chaos, their lives meaningless to the people in power. And yet, it's them—the citizens—that I fought for. They'll never know it. They'll never understand the sacrifices made by those of us at the bottom.
They call us 'hunters', but for them, it's nothing more than a business, a game of ranks and paychecks. If you're not at the top—if you're someone like me, a D-rank—they don't even see you. We're disposable. Expendable. Sacrificed in silence to keep their precious order. But they forgot one thing—those they consider disposable are still the ones holding back the flood, still fighting to protect the people no one else cares to save.
I gave everything I had for them, for this world. Even when I knew I'd never be powerful, that I'd never be remembered. I wanted to keep people safe, because if I didn't… who would? But now, here I am, lying in the dirt, bleeding out as the monsters they let loose consume our cities. And where are they? Evacuating away from this disaster they caused, by not sending the capable high ranked hunters. If only they had humanity but perhaps the monsters roaming around in the streets have more empathy than them.
I regret livin' a life under those heartless monsters, an 'organisation'. Oh I wonder if any of them will make it alive because that thing inside the dungeon is the end of the world.
I guess this is how it ends, but again this wasn't a life worth living. Tell me who would want to be a puppet for the rest of their lives? I guess this is how the world works.
Everyone is the main character in their own life, and to them, everyone else is just a side character—nothing more than a temporary distraction. When a side character dies, does the protagonist even flinch? Or do they just keep moving forward, indifferent, as if it's nothing more than a footnote in their own endless story? The truth is, most won't bat an eye, because in the end, the death of another is just another insignificant event in the never-ending plot of their own selfish world.