"To be honest, this is the first time I've walked through a labyrinth and thought it was actually pretty reasonable."
Carrying his warhammer on his shoulder as he walked through the corridors of the Great Labyrinth, Duanmu Huai couldn't help complaining. In games, there were countless labyrinths like this, but many of them were enough to make people go berserk.
For example, some police station—you're telling me that in a police station, you hid the keys inside a statue and designed an emergency exit that could only be opened after finding three gemstones? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Was this really something only a lunatic could come up with? Is this even human behavior?
And the three gemstones weren't even in the same place. If something happened, by the time you found them all, you'd probably already be dead.
There were also plenty of final bosses' lairs that were torture chambers disguised as labyrinths. Players would complain bitterly as they made their way through them, but think about it carefully: wouldn't the final boss's own subordinates have a hell of a time getting through them too? Imagine the ministers spending seven or eight hours every day navigating a labyrinth just to attend morning court with the Demon King. No wonder those Demon Kings were always so poorly informed. By the time the messenger delivered the news, it would have been outdated for ages.
So whenever players encountered this kind of labyrinth, all they wanted to say was—are you insane?!
Who would make their own home look like a labyrinth? It wasn't as if they were playing detective in some murder mystery escape room!
Compared to those, the existence of the Great Labyrinth before them made much more sense. To stop the Demon Race's invasion, the Dwarfs had