002. Goblin Lookout
Rick froze, staring unblinkingly at the two items in his hands - a cloak and a dagger.
The System screen had vanished, leaving behind only silence.
The dagger was cold and firm in his grip. The cloak, soft yet strangely heavy.
He swallowed.
"Where…" He started, his voice hoarse, but the words died in his throat.
This was unsettling.
What was going on?
His mind flicked back to the message he'd just heard and read. Survival for the Fittest?
The wind sweeping past the concrete held no answers. But the clatter of objects from a nearby garbage can sent a jolt of panic through him.
Rick's head snapped toward the sound. Two overfilled garbage cans stood just a few meters from the ledge he was on. The ground was damp, covered in patches of green mold and overgrown grass.
His gut twisted. A strange unease prickled at the back of his neck, as if unseen eyes were watching him. He turned the other way, scanning the area. A pile of rubble. A rusted mabati fence enclosing the construction site.
Nothing unusual. So why did he feel so... watched?
Shaking his head, he considered ignoring the feeling and heading back to work. Lunch break must be overdue by now.
His gaze dropped back to the cloak and dagger. Hard to ignore. And beyond that, he could hear the river flowing several meters away.
Well… he'd investigate everything that had happened later. Right now he didn't want the foreman yelling at him for being late again.
Rick shrugged and stepped off the ledge.
That was his first mistake.
He planned to take the garbage can route back. But as soon as he turned, he felt his stomach drop.
The green mold - he could swear it had grown larger.
A rapid blink later, the shape came into focus. And his blood ran cold.
Pointed ears. Crimson eyes. A long, crooked nose. A twisted grin that revealed sharp, yellowed teeth. Height the size of a ten-year old.
It wore only a ragged brown cloth around its waist, with a thin strap draping over its left shoulder. But Rick's eyes were locked on its left hand, where it clutched a rusty, old dagger.
Slowly, deliberately, it raised the weapon, pointing it at him.
Rick's heart slammed against his ribs. His breath hitched. His mind short-circuited between run and freeze.
Finally, he gasped out the only word that came to mind.
"G-Goblin!?"
Rick wanted to scream at how ridiculous that was. A goblin? A real one? Yeah, sure, he knew what a goblin was. He'd seen enough movies and read enough stories. And in all those stories, goblins stabbed people to death. Among other terrible things.
But never in his life did he expect to come face-to-face with one.
[System]
Quest: Defeat the Goblin Lookout (0/1)
The glowing System screen popped up, momentarily interrupting the goblin's menacing stare, and reminding Rick that he was now hosting an autonomous, synthetic, female voice in his head and an immersive game-like interface treating this whole situation like it was just another day.
His gaze flicked to the quest.
"Defeat?" He muttered, then it clicked.
He'd received a Rogue Class Lvl 1. The cloak. The dagger.
What did that mean for him?
Before he could process it, the System screen vanished, bringing the goblin back into focus.
The two locked eyes.
The goblin's expression was clear - hostile, predatory.
Rick narrowed his gaze.
"Right..." His grip on the dagger tightened.
"Survival of the fittest," he thought grimly.
He had never been in a fight before. Sure, he had that vague guy instinct that, if push came to shove, he could throw a punch. But actually knowing how to defend himself? That was another matter entirely.
And a dagger? He had no idea how to use one expertly. At least not beyond the basic stab feature that every dagger came with. He also had no clue how the cloak was supposed to help either.
But two things were certain.
First - fumbling in a fight only ruined your rep.
Second - when in a bind, improvise.
His eyes darted around. His fingers twitched. Then he lunged - grabbing the first thing his hands could reach.
A medium-sized rock.
The rough edges scratched his palm as he hurled it at the goblin with all the force he could muster.
"Toka apa wee umbwa!" he yelled in addition, as if the sheer force of his voice would add to the rock's impact.
Ironically, his words translated to: Get out of here, you dog.
The rock flew straight at the goblin - only for the creature to casually sidestep, letting it crash uselessly against a garbage can.
It turned back to Rick with a slow, unimpressed stare. The kind that practically said, Really? That's your move?
Rick clicked his tongue. Nkt. "So much for not fumbling," he muttered under his breath.
Now what?
Before he could come up with an answer, the goblin let out a guttural war cry - then lunged.
Rick's pulse spiked.
The rusty dagger flashed in the sunlight, its jagged edge aimed straight for his gut. A dozen martial arts scenes flickered through his mind, all contradicting each other. Block? Dodge? Counter?
Too late.
The blade was already too close to home.
A burst of adrenaline surged through him, and Rick moved on instinct.
Without prior planning, he twisted sharply to the side, just as the goblin's momentum carried it forward.
The blade scraped empty air.
Rick caught a glimpse of its wide, startled eyes before its foot hooked on a rock. With a yelp, the goblin tumbled, barely keeping hold of the dagger as it hit the ground with a thud.
Rick scrambled backward, breath coming fast.
What the hell just happened? He had dodged - not by luck, not by panicked flailing, but with actual precision.
He'd never been that fast before.
[Stats]
Strength: 4
Agility: 8
Vitality: 4
Perception: 7
Dexterity: 8
Endurance: 5
Wisdom: 4
Intelligence: 5
The System screen flickered into existence, as if reminding him.
His attributes had been assigned values. Numbers that supposedly defined his abilities. He had no idea what each digit meant in practical terms, but judging by what had just happened…
It mattered.
Did an 8 in Agility make him twice as fast? Above average? Superhuman?
No time to figure it out.
The goblin let out a snarl, shoving itself upright, its grip on the dagger tightening.
Rick wasn't exactly prepared - but something about the surge of adrenaline mixed with the system stats was making him feel… sharper. More aware.
The creature's feet shifted, knees bending slightly. It was about to lunge again.
Rick's grip on his dagger tightened. He swung the cloak back, adjusting his stance. Okay. Think. He was faster than before - he'd just dodged an attack without stumbling like an idiot.
The goblin's muscles tensed. Its nostrils flared.
Now.
The goblin lunged, but this time, Rick was ready. Instead of twisting away at the last second, he stepped into the attack, bringing his arm up fast.
Steel met rusty steel with a dulled clang as his dagger clashed against the goblin's. The impact sent a jolt through his wrist, but his footing held. Holy shit, I actually blocked that.
The goblin snarled, pressing forward, its red eyes glinting with malice. Rick gritted his teeth - he wasn't sure if he was strong enough to hold this contest for long.
So he didn't.
Instead, he let the force push him back - and just as the goblin shoved harder, Rick abruptly sidestepped, twisting his body.
The goblin stumbled forward, off-balance.
Rick's instincts screamed at him - this is your opening.
Without thinking, he yanked the cloak forward as a distraction. The fabric whipped through the air, catching the goblin's face.
The creature recoiled with a hiss, momentarily blinded.
Rick struck.
He stepped in, swinging his dagger low, aiming for the exposed ribs.
The goblin barely managed to twist, but not fast enough. The blade carved a shallow gash along its side.
A high-pitched screech tore from the goblin's throat as it staggered back, unveiling and clutching its wound.
Rick exhaled sharply. His heart was pounding, but his hands were steady. He'd landed a hit. He'd actually landed a hit.
The goblin bared its jagged teeth, its fury plain. It burst into a tantrum.
But Rick was feeling more confident now.
And that was his second mistake.
He rushed in, eager to press the advantage. His last attack had worked - he'd cut the goblin, made it bleed. He could do it again.
Rick swung his dagger, aiming to carve another gash into the goblin's side. The creature was flailing, its movements erratic - stomping, thrashing, swinging its dagger wildly in frustration.
It looked open, vulnerable.
Then, at the worst possible moment, its chaotic flailing shifted. Rick saw it too late, his momentum already carrying him forward. He tried to adjust mid-strike-
-and stumbled.
His blade sliced through empty air.
The goblin, still mid-tantrum, lashed out blindly. Its jagged dagger clipped Rick's side - not an intentional strike, but no less painful.
Rick jerked away, a sharp sting flaring across his ribs. His hand flew to his side, fingers pressing against damp warmth.
Blood.
He glanced down and nearly froze. The cut was small, little more than a scratch - so why was there so much blood? It oozed freely, more than it should. Too much.
What the hell-?
His pulse spiked. He wasn't anemic, hadn't lost blood like this before. If that goblin had cut just a little deeper...
His survival instincts kicked in. He backed off, relying on agility to keep ahead of the goblin's frenzy.
But the goblin had seen the blood.
Its lips curled into a wicked grin, eyes glinting with a crystalline crimson. Rick's injury had only excited it.
He dodged another wild swing, barely keeping pace, his mind racing. His body felt weaker, heavier. A wave of grogginess hit him.
Then, a notification blinked into his vision:
[System]
Health: 74/100
Stamina: 42/100
Mana: 84/100
Rick's breath hitched. Thirty six points - gone from a single scratch. Worse, his stamina was ticking down with every movement.
He didn't register Mana.
This was bad. Really bad. He had to end this fast - before he bled out, before his legs gave out, before he became goblin supper.
Rick's vision was tunneling. His body screamed at him to run, to flee, to survive.
But he couldn't. Wouldn't.
He wasn't built to be a coward. He never ran from anything. It was carved into his bones, stitched into his soul. Do or die. That was the only game he knew how to play.
His grip tightened around the dagger. No more hesitation.
He lunged, forgetting the wound, forgetting the blood, forgetting the sickening shock that still clung to his limbs. Adrenaline was his fuel now.
The dagger found the goblin's shoulder, but not deep enough. Not enough force. Not enough strength. The goblin shrieked, thrashing, its jagged blade nicking his arm. Pain registered but didn't matter.
Rick ripped his knife free, stabbed again - missed - stepped back under a wild swing, then slammed his knee into the goblin's gut. It reeled, spitting blood - but still it fought.
Fine. He could fight too.
Adrenaline drowned out the pain, the system notifications, the creeping exhaustion. Nothing mattered but ending this.
The goblin lunged.
Rick didn't dodge.
He caught its arm, twisted, wrenched - bone cracked. The goblin howled. Rick slammed it down, his dagger flashing again - again - again.
Faster. Harder. Deeper.
The goblin twitched. Screamed. Shuddered. Stopped.
But Rick's hands didn't.
His fingers were locked in a death grip around the hilt. His arms burned. Blood splattered his face, his clothes, his hands. He kept stabbing. Kept carving. Kept going.
A wet, gurgling rasp. The goblin wasn't moving.
But Rick still was.
His body trembled, breath ragged, heart hammering. Somewhere deep inside, something had either snapped, or awakened.
He blinked at the lifeless, ruined thing beneath him.
He glanced at his dagger. Dripping. Thick, dark red.
His chest heaved as the feral hunger inside him faded - just a little.
Why did he feel so empty all of a sudden?
His nerves settled. The excitement drained away. But something else lingered.
A whisper at the back of his mind. A craving.
It wasn't enough.
The fight had ended too quickly.
It was as if he wanted more.
[System]
Quest Completed!
Kill Goblin Lookout 1/1