The brambles dig into my knees as I crouch behind a thicket, watching what might be the most contented goblin I've ever seen. She hums a tuneless melody while plucking wild berries from a bush, occasionally popping one into her mouth with childlike delight. "God, look at that disgusting, greasy fucking thing," Mirelle whispers beside me, her electric blue hair practically bristling with disgust. "Yeah, I know," I agree halfheartedly, the words feeling hollow in my mouth. In truth, this goblin seems pretty harmless, just a creature gathering her lunch, not the bloodthirsty monster I remember encountering before. We've been tracking her for nearly an hour now, ever since we spotted her near Lannos. This C-rank quest seemed straightforward enough when Mirelle suggested it, clear out a goblin hideout, collect our reward. Simple mercenary work. But watching this lone goblin near the cave we figured out she was living in, I'm feeling less like a hero and more like a bully. Mirelle wrinkles her nose. "Goblins are so gross. Their flammable, oily skin… Yuck." "Wait, it's flammable?" I turn to her, surprised. "Yeah, you said you lit one on fire." She gives me a puzzled look. "I thought I just got lucky." "No, dummy. Their skin secretes this oil that catches fire easily. That's why they're so dangerous in groups, one torch can set off a chain reaction." Mirelle's eyes spark with that magical energy she gets when discussing combat tactics. "It's actually perfect for your staff. Do you want to try and shoot her?" "I don't know, Mirelle," I say, watching the goblin carefully select a plump blackberry. "She seems like she's just minding her own business. Not hurting anyone." Mirelle's face contorts with disgust. "Absolutely not. Goblins are vile vermin that spread disease, steal resources, and try to rape men at any cost. They have to be stopped." Her vehemence catches me off guard. "But…" "I heard they aren't even sentient," she continues, cutting me off. "Just creatures reacting to stimuli, like insects. No real thoughts or feelings." Something in her tone makes me think she's trying to convince herself as much as me. Her usual confidence wavers slightly. "I also heard they can't feel pain," she adds, almost too casually. I think of the goblin I lit on fire when I woke up in this world, how it screamed with such human agony, its eyes wide with terror as it tried to extinguish the flames. The memory makes my stomach turn. Mirelle shoves me forward suddenly. "This is your chance. She’s going for the cave. I'll cover you, okay?" "I'm not…" I start to protest. "What the fuck are you doing?" Her eyes spark dangerously, literal electricity crackling through her blue hair. "They're literally monsters, Sam. This is what we came here to do." I swallow hard and make a decision. I can't keep second-guessing myself. We're here to do a job, and Mirelle's right. This is what we came for. "Fine," I mutter, straightening my shoulders. "I'll handle it." Taking a deep breath, I emerge from our hiding spot and walk toward the goblin, my staff extended before me like a shield. My heart hammers against my ribs, but I force my feet forward. "Hey!" I call out, my voice cracking slightly. "Goblin!" The creature spins around, berries clutched in her small green hands. Her yellow eyes widen in surprise. That's when I notice movement in the cave entrance behind her, several more goblins peer out, all staring at me with confused expressions. The berry-picking goblin tilts her head. "Human?" she says in a scratchy voice. "Are you hungry?" She reaches toward her belt, and I tense. "Oh my god, she's going for a weapon!" Mirelle shouts from behind me. Pure instinct takes over. I channel energy through my staff, feeling the familiar heat build at its tip before a blazing fireball erupts from the end. It hurtles toward the goblin in a streak of orange flame. Too late, I see what she's actually doing, pulling out a handful of berries from a pouch. An offering. For me. The fireball connects before I can call it back. The goblin's oil-slick skin ignites immediately, flames engulfing her tiny frame. Her scream isn't like anything I've heard before, high-pitched and piercing, filled with such raw agony that it sends shivers down my spine. Burning like a goblin torch, she bolts toward the cave, arms flailing wildly. The goblins at the entrance scatter, shrieking, "No! No!" in panicked voices. But she's blind with pain, running straight into them. One catches fire, then another. Their screams join in a horrifying chorus. "Holy shit," I whisper, frozen in place as the flames spread. "Nice shot!" Mirelle whoops, running up beside me. "See? Chain reaction, just like I said!" The cave entrance is now a churning mass of flames and smoke, punctuated by dwindling screams. The smell hits me, burning flesh and something acrid, like cooking oil mixed with hair. The cave's entrance flares even brighter as the inferno spreads deeper inside, each goblin becoming a living pyre that ignites the next. Their screams blend together into a hellish symphony that makes my stomach clench and my knees weak. Suddenly, my vision blurs as notifications start flashing before my eyes: The numbers keep appearing, stacking higher and higher with each dying scream. My system is tallying deaths like a macabre scoreboard. "Oh god," I choke out, my voice barely audible over the roaring flames. The screaming continues, piercing and desperate, each one accompanied by another ghostly [+5] in my field of vision. "I'm so proud of you, Sam!" Mirelle beams, gripping my shoulder. The curse activates. Her eyes reflect the dancing flames with disturbing delight. "That was absolutely awesome. I remember my first chain reaction ." She sighs nostalgically, as if recalling a fond childhood memory rather than mass slaughter. "My mom gave me my first thunder staff back then, much smaller than this beauty I have now, of course." I feel Mirelle's hand suddenly jerk away from my shoulder. Her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a step back. "Sorry," she mutters, brushing her hands on her armor as if to clean them. "Forgot about the... You know." She gestures vaguely at my eyes, which I assume were glowing that telltale purple from the curse. I'm about to respond when a different kind of notification flashes across my vision: [Curse of Velthara Modified: Those who violate you now have a slightly higher chance of developing an obsessive attachment] I can't help but let out a heavy sigh. The bitter irony isn't lost on me, getting stronger just means the curse gets stronger too, like some cosmic joke at my expense. "What's with the sigh?" Mirelle asks, head tilted curiously. The flames behind her cast dancing shadows across her face, making her look almost demonic. "I leveled up," I say flatly. Her brow furrows. "What does that mean?" The [+5 XP] notifications finally stop appearing in my vision, right as the last screams from the cave fade into an eerie silence. The only sound now is the crackling of flames and occasional pop of burning goblin oil. "You know, like your level?" I try to explain, suddenly realizing how strange this must sound. "By the way, what level are you?" Mirelle stares at me like I've grown a second head. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Wait, you don't have levels? Or stats?" I ask, genuinely confused. "No notifications when you kill something?" "Sam, are you feeling okay?" She reaches toward me but stops herself before making contact. "Maybe the smoke is getting to you." I shake my head, trying to make sense of this. So the system is just for me? Another special quirk of being yanked into this world, I guess. "Never mind," I mutter, turning back toward the burning cave. The acrid stench of burning flesh fills my nostrils, and I fight back a wave of nausea. "Let's just... collect proof for the quest and go." Mirelle nods enthusiastically. "Right! We need goblin ears. Standard proof for bounties." She pulls out a small knife from her belt. "They should be nice and crispy now, easy to remove." I follow Mirelle into the smoldering cave entrance, trying not to gag on the stench of burned flesh. The heat presses against my face like an unwelcome hand as we pick our way over charred goblin remains. Each step makes me wince, both from the occasional crunch underfoot and the moral weight settling in my stomach. "We should check deeper in the cave," Mirelle says, her voice echoing against the blackened walls. "Make sure we got them all." The flames have mostly died down now, leaving behind an eerie, smoke-filled darkness. I summon a small light at the end of my staff, illuminating our path forward. The narrow passage opens into a larger chamber, and as my light sweeps across the far wall, I freeze. "Oh..." The word escapes me like air from a punctured lung. Covering the entire back wall is an elaborate mural, painted in vivid pigments that somehow survived the fire. It depicts a group of female goblins, their faces twisted in predatory grins, forcing themselves on captured human men. The detail is disturbing, the men's faces contorted in terror, chains around their necks, while the goblin women loom over them with unmistakable intent. "I guess these actually were bad goblins after all," I mutter, feeling a strange, hollow vindication. Mirelle turns to me, her face half-shadowed, half-illuminated by my staff light. Her expression is one of utter disgust. "Sam," she says, her voice soft but firm. "All goblins are bad."