The day came to an end, and dawn quickly crept up on the goblins. They weren't allowed to return to the old mine and were instead marched straight into the new ones.
Not that it mattered. They had no personal belongings anyway—considering they didn't even have names—so there was nothing stopping them from slipping into their new lives.
Byung, however, wasn't at ease. He knew money was the top priority in this world, just like in any other, but his real concern was how to maximize the strange system he had been blessed with. How could he put himself above everyone else without drawing suspicion?
The answer lay in his ability: he needed to spend or receive money from another goblin to gain five times the amount he either spent or received.
Byung had no idea what the skill he gained was either, though deep down, he suspected it had something to do with the orcs he had slept with. He still had countless questions, but for now, he wasn't in any rush to find the answers.
Still, his expectations weren't met. Byung had thought this place would be far more advanced. Instead, he'd mistaken the goblins' civilization for one that had been left behind by the hands of time, much like cavemen.
The moment they arrived, both he and the others noticed a positive and were impressed by what they saw. The working conditions here were completely different.
The goblins in sight made even the most muscular among them look small. Their bodies were carved with muscle, every one of them looking like they had been torn and reforged countless times.
Yet, at its core, this was still just another mine. One could call it a level up, but it only promised greater difficulty ahead.
The goblins here were stronger, bigger, and far more dangerous than the ones Byung had been used to.
There was little to be excited about in that. What he saw instead was a pyramid scheme—manual labor stacked upon manual labor.
Climbing the ladder only meant more work. Yes, it came with higher pay, but it was also bait. Since they had already tasted the warmth of a woman—
That was the hook the higher-ups used to keep them obedient.
Because the goblins knew they would be rewarded with a woman, and this was the ultimate bait.
Byung and the others were led to different locations. It was clear they might not even be working in this particular mine, as there were others spread across the same area.
Yet, the goblins here seemed far more relaxed.
Byung realized that if the resources here were superior, then crafting would become easier. He could create better tools and better equipment.
The first thing he needed to change was the pitifully shabby tools used to mine.
If he played his cards right, he could rise to the rank of a supervisor in no time.
Laughter suddenly rang out, pulling Byung from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw goblins worker laughing loudly right under the gaze of their supervisor without punishment.
"What is this place?" Byung wondered.
Before long, he found himself in a room. But confusion struck him again when he saw how run-down the structures were.
He had expected something different, yet the architecture was crude, barely holding together.
Still, this was one of the things he planned to change.
From the information he had gathered so far, it became clear that goblins were an underdeveloped species with no real interest in evolution.
Their focus was reproduction. And who could really blame them? With lifespans so short, their only way to survive as a race was to impregnate as many women as possible.
It was then Byung's eyes caught sight of Gribnox. He alone seemed to notice the other.
"He came with the other one that day, didn't he?" Byung thought.
Their eyes met for the briefest moment before Byung looked away. He knew how fragile goblin egos were. Challenge them even a little, and it could spiral into a fight.
Violence was their way of life. It wasn't his.
Still, Byung stopped in his tracks. The others continued walking, but he stepped toward the injured Gribnox.
The wound might have looked minor, but the pus swelling inside told another story.
"Hey! Get back line!" The goblin in charge barked at him, but Byung ignored it.
He had already gained favor with Murkfang. Winning over this one in front of him wouldn't hurt.
"Hello…" Byung greeted with a smile, though Gribnox didn't seem the least bit interested.
Gribnox's gaze shifted instead, glaring at the goblin in charge. But before the guard could drag Byung back into line—
"Your ear infected. I fix that," Byung offered, but Gribnox couldn't even respond because Byung was yanked back by the goblin Gribnox had summoned.
"So close!" Byung muttered under his breath.
---
"What do you mean you found a goblin of high quality?" A male orc demanded. He was dressed in clean clothes, a giant axe strapped to his back. He carried himself differently from the others around him, his presence strengthened by the necklace of teeth that hung against his chest, showing his success in hunting different races.
He clearly held authority here.
"I know it sounds crazy, but I have a reliable source," the other orc replied, raising a brow.
"You mean your whores? Don't make me laugh," the orc spat with disgust.
The very thought of lying with goblins stripped them of all respect.
"But if what you're saying is true, then I think I'll pay this little goblin village a visit," the orc continued.
"Are you sure that's a good idea, Borg?" the other questioned. It was rare for any race to visit goblins outside of trade. The place reeked, the infrastructure was pitiful, and the goblins themselves were territorial.
"What can I say? It's time I meet the dirts my sister let fuck her," Borg replied, though his words seemed to catch in his throat.
The animosity between goblins and orcs ran deep. They despised one another more than anything. And the thought that some promising goblin existed rubbed him the wrong way.
Borg was a man quickly rising through the ranks. But he hated goblins—and the fact that his sister had lain with one made him hate her just as much.
He was the embodiment of years of bitterness between the two races. So different, yet so similar.
The outside world lumped them together, which did neither side any good. The orcs lacked the goblins' resources, yet shared their flaws. Other races refused dealings with them because of it.
Borg had always believed the orcs should seize the mines and strip the goblins of everything valuable. They were warriors. To them, mining would be nothing. If anything, they would be more efficient.
Sharing territory only made the hatred fester.
Borg despised the peace pact that bound them, convinced only the goblins benefited from it.
The only question that remained was this—was Borg mad enough to finally do something about it?