Byung couldn't believe his luck, because even he knew this was good news, and he instantly attempted to get on board.
He provided them with the necessary information for the honey, since he had no reason to keep it from them. Nor did he want to hoard the recipe for himself, as it could help other goblins.
However, Gribnox remained skeptical. There was no way something that sweet could be used to treat an infection.
That didn't make sense—at least to him—because Byung had nothing to lose by lying.
Worst-case scenario? It didn't work, and Byung walked away a gold coin richer.
But in truth, the opposite was at stake. Byung had far more to lose if it failed. If the honey didn't work, he'd only be painting a target on his own back.
Byung had already come up with countless ideas despite his limited resources. Ore seemed to be abundant in these mines, and he suspected that was the case here as well. Still, he believed there had to be better resources hidden within, even if they were currently unknown.
He knew he needed to advance this race forward by several years if they were to even have a chance at catching up to the other races.
There was nothing he couldn't do in this world.
A crooked smile spread across his face.
Gribnox caught that smile and instantly grew uneasy. Byung was staring directly at him, and it gave off the feeling of hidden ill intent.
With Murkfang gone to retrieve the honey, it was just the two of them.
"Don't have any funny ideas," Gribnox warned.
Byung instantly straightened his face, realizing how strange it must have looked. He knew that with his power, he could create tools and machines that would make mining far easier. But he wasn't about to introduce such ideas yet—not until he understood what kind of goblins these two really were.
He hadn't been able to leave any mark in his past life, but this time… he would.
There was no way he would be forgotten.
It was only a matter of time before Murkfang returned with the honey.
When he did, Byung carefully applied it to the infected area. Almost immediately, Gribnox's body eased, the tension fading within seconds.
That reaction allowed Byung to continue his work unhindered, though he noticed the goblins were unnaturally quiet. Was speaking not allowed here?
They were the bosses of this mine, after all. What could they possibly be afraid of?
Byung didn't press them with questions. Instead, his mind turned inward. He was starting to realize just how much potential his system truly had. Even the skill he had used against Drekk had been unknown to him—it had only triggered in the heat of fight-or-flight.
"Finish! You be as good as new. Apply consistently," Byung said.
But speaking like that was exhausting. Every time he forced himself into broken goblin speech, it felt like his brain was regressing.
Murkfang, however, looked at his friend as though Byung had just performed black magic.
"How do you feel?" Murkfang asked.
Gribnox's entire demeanor changed. He leapt to his feet and wrapped Byung in a sudden hug.
It was proof enough—the honey had worked.
"I am sorry about earlier! I was only trying to keep up appearances!"
Gribnox, as it turned out, was a kind goblin. In fact, he was one of the kindest Byung would ever meet.
"I-It fine!" Byung stammered, startled by the sudden change in character. He tried to wriggle free from Gribnox's embrace but couldn't, even if he wanted to.
Murkfang simply smiled. He had known this would happen—Gribnox was always the softer one once he decided to trust you.
"Hey! Stop there!"
One of the goblins stationed at the gate barked at a lone figure approaching.
The figure halted in its tracks. Whoever it was, they were alone.
"Hey, we expect someone?" one goblin asked his companion, though neither of them could be sure.
"Maybe? We let him in?" the other replied. Despite the goblins' naturally violent tendencies, most of them had never experienced true combat before.
"Not! We not know what they have in mind!" the first snapped, shutting down the idea.
"It just one person. What they not threat," the second countered.
"You right. Come this way, sir!"
The goblin stepped aside, granting the figure safe passage.
This was how foolish the average goblin was—and why they had failed to advance despite their abundance of resources. Territorial by nature, yes, but the only reason they would allow this was because the intruder's scent seemed familiar.
The figure continued forward, stopping right between them.
He stood over 9'2, towering and monstrous, instantly striking fear into the hearts of the gatekeepers.
"You not goblin!" they shouted in unison.
The distance had deceived them. By the time they realized his true size, it was already too late.