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Selection of 2023 Works

Reformed Lich Freedman Defends Town Against Goblin Raid with False Walls January 2, 2023
A young man removed himself from the ground. He screamed. “I am awake!” he said. His voice was high as if he had taken a bath and was now resting. He laughed and cheered because of his predicament. It calmed him to know fear and then forget it through sheer power of itching himself. He was sleepy, tired, almost about to fall into a nightmare, but today was sheer strength captivating.
He stepped down a staircase, his mouth like an unwinding cannon. “Who goes there?” His voice was haggard this time. Because he knew what was coming.
His old friends were skeleton and bone. They were fierce and stone-faced. They almost craved his flesh, if not for the sycophantic thoughts. They bowed and said, “Praise the Nether Lich.”
“My name is now Man Wise.” The young man was confident that he memorized the folktales of the old. He stood and shouted, his mouth failing to grasp a moxie of will. He wished that he could have a voice that didn’t determine to stomp itself. He lacked the feelings of a great-man.
He sat down. “I wish now to become a good man. What is important is the people who’ve suffered at my hands. My friends foremost have suffered. My people lastly have failed to receive the grace that the lords have promised. I will help them now, if not to offer them a little peace for the moment. In the end, my face, my body, my soul all corrupt me in the eyes of the many. I will press on no matter the cost. Let it be a praiseworthy thing that I exist today, if only to pray and say, ‘I can only weigh the broken hands and feet and point at the terribleness of it all.’ To have empathy is wise. To fail to hold men in high regard is a failure to be crushed into one’s mind like an angry stamp.
“I hold my friends to a standard. They have failed me. I will not fail them.”
He stood and walked, his hands and feet catching up to him. He ran and let his body follow him instead. His spirit was bracing itself and dashing forth like a lion. No man will no fear this day. His words were faint, but they carried wisdom and strength.
Two goblins screamed and cried. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen! I wish only harm upon those who take themselves and stand to cry they are holy, mighty, and all the things that turn them into hypocrites! We shall slay them and tear the so-called grace that they’ve bestowed themselves. Let their names be revealed as fake, their laughter as fabrication, and their soul as a image of devilish desires. We shall make them no peace through war! For no peace shall be the mirror of their hearts toward the eyes of the weak and pity.”
The young man, who called himself ‘Freedman,’ removed his coat and necklace. He said, “I’ve almost forgotten why I was here. Let’s be true and honest. We shall only win if we turn the goblins’ camps upside-down. I shall shed blood. For honor? Nay. For everlasting peace? Nay. For the Lord? Nay. For human blessing and hope? May that be the case.”
Ten men stood, and their hands were callused and dirty. They carried shovels and dug graves for their fellow men. They cried and teared, calling the names of their wives, their husbands, and everyone that they knew. They were sad and wished only hope for those who needed saving. They prayed that their souls deserved peace even if a little for the sake of their children. They reasoned in ways that only deserved a punishment, but it was a desparate time. And the desparate were irrational.
Freedman shouted and met with the men. He pointed at the walls. “Why don’t we dismantle it? The goblins will take refuge here anyways. They are coming. Can we not put the spirit? I urge my fellow honorable soldiers. Fight! Not through battle, but through will conquering flesh and pride. We shall dig with shame, combatting shame, and introducing our shameful attack to the field of war.”
“But how? It is easy, but my mind cries yet for an answer that presents itself. My nervousness turns me and my knowledge into a fleshling that squeals like a child that has just been born. I wish only grace to accompany each and everyone of us. Please, tell us!”
“Defeat them, we must. Defeat them or not. We shall put our souls into this massacre. Turn them into mincemeat. Like the lords before us. Like the lords before them. Let us forget the friendships and alliances of the past. It is time for us to shed their blood and our blood for the glory of victory. Through glory, we shall save our families.”
“I can’t ask myself this question. I can’t ask myself the truth in front of me, but my hands are shaking. Nervousness shakes with anger and collides with an everlasting call to peace. We shall join you.”
“Join Freedman’s raid upon the goblins!”
Freedman created walls with which he introduced a fair share of false walls to counteract the speed of the goblins. The goblins would run at speeds and agilities not expected by those who’ve not lived with these goblins for hundreds of years. They would turn Freedman into mincemeat if he did failed to provide his fellow men with a wall.
A tired and true wall.
The fake wall.
“The wall of divine providence,” he called it.
He brought his men to watch, and the goblins arrived, craving flesh and saying the name of God.
“They’ve come. My family, my blood relatives, my heart brothers, comrades. It is true that we were the heartiest of closest of allies, but we shall know no more after this day. For this short battle shall be the end of it all. Let us in the name of our fathers forget this day and those days and become enemies forevermore, if to protect the families of our today.”
The goblins screamed as arrows struck them. One fell and hit his toe on a nail. It squealed. “Oh, Heavens, please throw them a meteor and turn them into bygone memories. We know them, and yet we seek their deaths. Please, Divine Destiny, imprint them into history, and let history be rewritten!”
The humans gathered and protected a wide gate where hundreds of sticks scared the goblins.
“The infamous sticks of Freedman. Oy, Freedman, release yourself! You’ve sided with my father before! Come out, and we shall protect you from them! They feed babies with dead, wise trees and believe that their spirits will come out fleshier and fruitier and stronger than before! They believe fairytails! We shall make feast—”
“Shut your mouth, you tired old man. You’ve forgotten the truth of these humans, and yet you seek a man of your time? A human shall be a human nonetheless regardless of the good they’ve done.”
“Forgiveness is a harness for glory.”
“Forgiveness is a tool for manipulation.”
“Forgiveness breeds good.”
“Forgiveness makes men humiliate the other and create divisions among ranks among peoples among societies among worlds. No more grace shall carry them through their days.”
A Knight’s Murder Scheme Ends When a Stranger Kills His Party and Moves On With His Life January 2, 2023
A young stable boy, a small goblin, and a tall knight gathered togeher to make a plan. The knight remarked, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were to raid a small dungeon and destroy it in such magnificence?” He spun and took a glorious pose. “I suggest we expunge them and abscond with gold and the rest of the loot!”
The stable boy yawned and nodded. “Sure. But wouldn’t it be nice if we relaxed!” He drawled about muffins, cheesecakes, and higher, noble food. “I am jealous of the nobles. I am jealous of you, too, Mr. Knight. Why are you here, and why have you not slain me yet?”
“You lack self-preservation—” The knight stuttered. “Anyways, Goblin,”
“Trollson,” the goblin corrected.
“Trollson, I need you to join me. We’re going to murder cottagers and day laborers, pretending we’re bandits. How about that?”
“You’ve gone insane.” The goblin clasped the sides of its pimply face.
“Let’s collect some of these bodies and put them on a pile. Then, we can put some spell that turns them into gold and experience points.”
“This is perfect…”
“Yes, it is!”
“…for a weirdo like you.”
“Oh, damn, uh, frick.” The knight turned his head and covered his eyes. “I’m telling you though! This is like my start. We’re here too, and I’ve gotten a stable boy race, a goblin race, and me, an absolute beast of a race.”
“You’re stupid.”
“Damn, what? Stop undermining my opinions. You don’t think realistically we have a chance?”
“We do have a chance…”
“You’re right! We do have a chance—”
“…if you’re a whole cake–sized psychopath.”
“Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Can’t you see how close we are!” The knight leapt and spun around like a dancer.
The goblin grabbed his pouch from the ground and strolled away.
“I’m serious! We’re going to be kings. You can be my advisor, I mean!”
“Damn, I’ll tell you ‘you have guts’ once you challenge the kingdom and win.”
“No, no, no! We can’t do that! I can’t do that! We need a plan, devious preferably. One with pitchforks and rebellion. The peasants are angry, you know. I’m angry too as a knight. We’re getting more useless as infantry and gunpowder grows—”
“Stop. Just tell me where we can go to have at least one step of your plan completed.”
“At the dungeons!”
“Where?”
“The dungeons!”
“Tell me where the hell you mean?”
“The Harold Dungeons!”
“That tiny little dungeon with a bunch of skeletons trying to warm themselves and keep their mana going?”
“Yes! Let’s ruin the small-freaks first!”
“Damn, you have a nasty personality.”
“Nasty? Ew. More like…” The knight struggled to think, and his face crumpled for a split-second. “Anyways, let’s go… Woohoo!”
A tall man screamed in the middle of nowhere. The forest turned his voice into an eagle-shaped spirit that echoed through the forest.
The knight laughed. “Hey, you hear that. That’s the spirit of the forest calling us. We should stop and ask for help, right?”
“You mean?”
“I mean, let’s just run. I’m getting terrified.”
“Knight man. Are you seriously naked without your guy soldiers?”
“Naked? I’m clothed.”
“‘Afraid’ is my meaning.”
“I guess… No, not yet. I’m closer than I’ve ever been since my birth! I will turn my destiny around and become a king!”
“You’re foolish.”
“Not yet. If I win, foolishness will be the last thing I’ll call myself.”
“Have you won yet? If not, when?”
“Tomorrow, the day after that. As long as I can keep on, my future is sealed. Failure is possible. Nonetheless, I won’t break.”
A tall man ran, charged, and climbed trees, huffing like an orangutan.
The knight sat down. “Do you know any way to farm the ground and receive food? I was never taught.”
“You don’t just dig the ground and receive food aplenty.”
“I thought as much. Anyways, who’s that tall man?”
A tall man leapt from a tree, grabbed the goblin, and tore it to shreds.
The knight clasped his head and screamed. “Trollson!”
The stable boy squealed and froze.
The knight covered his mouth. “Don’t just stand there. Move!” He was slow too, but he was still moving. He walked away as the tall man galloped like a mad man.
The tall man grabbed the knight’s sword and stabbed him.
The knight fell to his knees. “I will honor my family. I need to. I must…”
The tall man stabbed him again and again.
The stable boy fell, hit his head, and became still.
The tall man grabbed the boy’s neck and twisted it.
He left, massaged his neck, and stretched his back.
“If I could relieve myself this way again,” he said. “it would be good. Satisfying, but I must not be complacent.”
A tall man in a city laughed and hugged his children. “Hey, everyone, don’t forget to take care of your hair. Ha, as if you guys need telling. We finally are its owners!”
His children cheered. One of them, a woman named ‘Askusa,’ said, “I can’t imagine leaving this place behind for a better life. Remember when we traveled on a cart? Now, we travel on a carriage as magnificent as the nobles’. We’re too privileged, you think?”
“No,” said another, a boy named ‘Adrian,’ “It’s our right that we do our best and think better solutions and receive rewards for it. With no rules, all of it won’t matter, and non-competition will turn us to dirt-sacks of stale bread and spoiled wine.”
Their father accompanied them to a school where magic flew and fire blackened the fire-resistant walls.
“Goodbye, Father.”
“Goodbye. I hope to greet you with thousands of new hair solutions.”
“Thank you.”
A tall man cried. “I will create a magnificent day. I’m a knight, a goblin, and a stable boy. I will become everything and everyone. Consume, I must. Become, I must. Take, make, and insert.”
Mage David and Sophia Hunt Goblins While Robert Deploys a Parasol Distraction Against Goblin Leader John January 4, 2023
A young man woke up, and his voice was weak. He climbed out of bed. “I can’t breathe,” he said, hitting the floor. “I was this close.”
He looked around. “How long has it been?”
He smiled. “I remember this place. It’s just like yesterday that I was here.”
He looked around and laughed. “I should just fall again back to asleep. No more fantasy, no more of that.”
He lay down and stretched his atheletic back. He cried a little. “I can’t… go back, can I?”
A figure entered the room and shook him. “Wake up, Sir David. Please wake up. Don’t let the cold catch you sleeping again!”
“Yes, yes, I’m waking up, I’m waking up,” The man, “David,” said. His voice sounded endlessly fraught with the disease of the cold. He wished harm upon those who loved the cold with a sniffle and followed the figure through a corridor.
The figure was a tall woman in shining armor. Her teeth were white, and her eyes were bright. Passion moved her legs when she walked. Passion filled her as if smokes of steam exited from her body.
David yawned, hoping to push away her aura of wakefulness, yet this yawn only got him more ready for a fight.
A goblin squealed as David arrived at a dungeon. Ten goblins grouped up as the woman pointed at David. “David, see, I told you we haven’t forgotten to break the goblins’ necks.”
The goblins’ necks had slash wounds, but they were healing fast.
David raised his brows. “I hate this, but okay, let’s do it.” He raised his hands. “Remove healing.”
The goblins’ wounds stopped healing. They screamed to display David’s awesome ability: “Remove healing and—”
“Terrify,” David’s mouth moved like the handle of a broken water pump. He flinched when the goblins threw a hatchet at him. He dodged and hid behind the woman. “I’m the mage, Sophia. Quickly, use your shield.”
The woman, “Sophia,” raised her shield as the hatchet changed directions midair. It slammed into the woman’s shield.
“I should’ve helped you, Sophia, but hey! Another one!”
Two banana-shaped hatchets flew as the goblins grabbed one another and ran.
Sophia turned her shield, but she tripped.
David covered his mouth and leapt to catch her, and with his athletic body, he caught her.
Sophia nodded and gave him a smile that missed the eyes.
David reciprocated her gesture and head-pointed at the goblins. “What do we… with them?” He was panting because he pressured a finger too much during Sophia’s fall.
“Don’t mind. Just go back to your room. We’ll handle the rest.”
David frowned. “Okay, I’m already wake. See?” He showed the sweat on his torso.
Sophia groaned. “Whatever, go then.” She sounded snarky.
“Okay.” David compressed his lips and showed her a disappointed stare.
Sophia ignored him, bounded away, and carried her shield and armor with a bowman’s agility.
David stared and increased his steps until he caught up to her.
The goblins hit the wall and sat down on their haunches. “What a pain in the arse!” said one of them, an older goblin with a wrinkly forehead. “Should we need to get that man back to sleep or should we hide again and wait?”
“What do you mean?” said a younger man with the smoother face but thicker eyebrows.
“Whatever!” The old man’s voice touched a little phelgm. “That man is trouble!”
“When he walked in?” The boy showed few disgusted expressions, but he meant well by them. “Yeah.”
The old man stared elsewhere, and his face pinched. “If he wasn’t, we would’ve won.”
“Great.” The younger man’s voice toughened and became rough. He stood up and adopted an arrogant stance as he plucked his coat. “They’re here.”
“Hey, guys, what’s up?” said a bunch of people with fish heads. Their tones were sarcastic, and their heads bobbled up and down as if to mock the two goblins. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Yeah, right, we’re taking your space.”
The leader of these fish-headed people said, “I see, I see. How about we just—” He dashed and kicked the younger man, aiming for the chest.
The younger man dashed away, grabbed his leg, and threw it against the ground. “There.” He gulped with a wry smirk.
The leader covered his mouth and feigned shyness and shame. “Oh, I can’t believe my leg’s broken.” His expression became fierce. “Why don’t I just heal it?”
David searched, turning his head left and right. “Where are those gobs?”
The leader said, “Don’t you know people…” He heard a piercing sound of a human cheering. He nodded his head and gave a pinched smile. “Goodbye.” He and the other fish-headed people picked up their pace and fled.
The goblins stood and ran with them, but the leader stopped them and said, “What are you doing?”
The goblins glanced between the leader and the other end of the dungeon path, and the younger goblin raised his hatchet.
The leader smirked. “No, no, don’t have any ideas.”
The fish-headed people revealed their maces and faked a sprint.
The goblins flinched and ran.
The leader mocked them with gestures.
The goblins sat down and hid as David and the woman arrived.
David said: “I smelled a goblin down here. Where could they have gone?”
“I’ve no clue. Just take a drink and sit down, I told you that.”
“Eh. No.”
“Eh. Yes.”
The goblins shuffled and made a sound.
David saw their feet. “Hey, that’s them!”
The goblins stood up and sprinted.
David frowned. “Too fast. My bad.”
The woman clasped his shoulder until David squealed in pain. “Not my tendon, not my tendon.”
“‘Tendon’? What’s that?”
The goblins slammed against the ground. The younger one groaned. “It’s bleeding again,” he said, pointing to his neck.
The older one moved away and sat down. “I don’t know. We came here too late. I should’ve ran earlier. Without you.” He sounded half-sincere.
The younger one squinted. “Whatever you say.” He held himself back from explaining himself and turned his head away.
David laughed. “I should’ve been the one to kill them.”
“No, I should’ve been the one.”
A group of soldiers arrived. “Hey, stop stopping. What are you doing?”
The woman turned around and glared.
The soldiers glared back, but their faces became worried expressions when the woman gave a manic grin.
The soldiers backed off.
“We’ve been watching them since forever, and from my perspective, she’s infatuated with the young man,” said one of them. “How preposterous for a combatant to be in love during war!”
“No, I like the boy,” said another.
“Will you keep that peeking mouth shut up, Adrian?”
“O-okay.”
David sat down. “Damn, that’s them.” 
“Yeah, that’s them.”
Two goblins were dead, lying down. One of them was the younger one, and the other was the older one.
David grabbed his chin. “If I were them, I would laugh at myself to dying to one of them.”
A tiny beast licked the goblin bodies. Its colors mirrored a cake.
David and the woman grinned. The woman pointed and guffawed.
The soldiers sighed when they saw them.
“Anyways,” said David, standing up. He almost gave the woman a peck in the cheek, but he mumbled, “Now’s not the time.”
“They’re so pitiful and for what.” The woman walked up to the bodies. “We should honor their deaths at least. Hand me your mirror.”
David shrugged. “Hey, you have the mirror. You took it from me, remember?” He put his hand inside his waist pouch. “I’m just guessing, but oh, there it is!” He took out his hand that was empty.
The woman shook her head, amused. She aimed her mirror toward the bodies. “They should light up anytime soon. Mother said they had to be this early for it to be useful.”
The bodies glowed as soon as the woman decided to groan. They disappeared, and their souls became free.
The woman glowed as well, and her muscles grew more refined. “Heh, if it was this easy…”
“It is that easy.” David showed her a pained smile. “You make this easy.” He sounded romantic there.
The woman failed to notice David’s subtle flirt, turned around, and left.
David left his mouth open in shame.
He stared at the two goblins, but they still lay still.
His mouth formed letters, but he refrained from voicing them out.
The tiny beast stared back at the darkness.
David and the soldiers leapt, grabbed the beast, and returned into the darkness.
The woman squealed. “Oy, this little chum-chum.”
The beast screamed and cried.
They reached a small house where hundreds of goblins worked. 
“We should teach them about death, hmm?” said a tall man with bronze skin and a sharply-defined face.
The woman gave him a huge nod and held his hand. “I’ve brought two spirits for you. They gladly accepted your invitation.”
Two flying balls of light floated downwards through the air onto the tall man’s palms.
The tall man smiled. “Thank you.”
The woman offered a seat. “Want to sit down?”
The tall man nodded and sat down. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to sit down?”
The tall man stared.
He raised his brows and gave her heavy nods. “Yes. Yes.”
David let out a silent sigh and clasped his forehead. “I’m going outside and taking a bath.”
“Right. We’ll be talking about paper work…”
David grinned. “Oh, yes, finally, my rest day!”
He hugged water and let out sighs of relief. He stared and focused his eyes at a flying toy.
“Oh, it’s a kite. Beautiful. Wait, kites don’t exist here.”
The kite fell and disappeared as if it heard David.
David got up, and, from his villa, watched a burning city.
“That’s…”
He ran and shouted. “Hey, hey!”
The woman and the tall man turned to dust and disappeared.
David cursed. “This is more than just a burning, dusty kite.” His hands turned red. “What is going on with me?”
He fell, hit the ground, and sighed. “Did I get a whiff of something?”
His world returned to normal as the woman fed David a potion.
David flinched and cursed.
The woman gave him slow nods. “You got too close to the bodies. Their spirits touched you.”
David raised his brows. “Oh, goodness. You scared me. I thought I got a whiff…”
The woman tilted her head and showed her ear. “Hmm? Excuse me? ‘A whiff’?”
David shook his head. “It was nothing after all.”
The woman raised her brows and leaned close. “Stand up.”
David listened and stood up. “What’s going on?”
“We’re heading to a dungeon. I want you with me.”
David nodded. “Okay. Ouch, my back hurts.”
“Naturally, you scraped your back against the pool walls while you were…”
“Out.”
“Out, yes.”
David fell and slammed against the ground of a dungeon. “So? Where’s the goblins?”
“They’re here somewhere, don’t worry.”
“I’m getting nervous, why?”
“They’re using a nervous spell.”
“I’ve never heard of that. Tell me something, you know. Communicate with me. I’ve no idea what goes on at the back of my head.”
The woman squinted. “Right.”
A group of goblins watched them, hiding. “I’ve never seen a woman that bright before. She knows our location already?”
David squealed. “I can’t move my body.”
“They’re using an muscle-freezing spell.”
David cursed and almost glared, but he stopped himself. “Anyways, what’s up with that then?”
“You’ll see.”
“You’ll see?” David was mad. “You’ll see? I see it already. Come on!”
The woman ignored him and grabbed a goblin’s hand. “Here, it is! The spellcaster.” She pulled the owner of the hand and dragged her to David. “David, see if you can determine why she’s the spellcaster.”
David thought the woman smirked for a moment.
He opened his mouth. “I don’t know? The rings maybe? Earrings, earrings?”
“No. You’re wrong. You wanna try again?”
“Ok. Hmm. The leg hair? I’ve never seen a goblin with leg hair?”
The woman gave him an I-told-you grin.
David hid his biting of his lip. “Okay, how about the goblin’s eyes? They’re green.”
The woman stopped. “You’re almost correct.”
David breathed fast for a moment. “What then?”
The woman showed him a wry smile. “It’s the eyes. They’re crocodile green.”
“What. But—”
“Uh-uh-uh, you didn’t specify.” The woman’s voice grated David’s ears.
David suppressed his rage. “Okay, whatever.” He left.
“Why are you mad? Why are you mad?” The woman followed him.
David stopped and sprinted.
The woman grabbed and pulled him. “Hey, you’re mad. ‘Communicate,’ you said. ‘Communicate.’ Tell me!”
David failed to break free. He stared at the woman.
The woman’s face grew hurt as David stared.
The woman wrinkled her face in anger. “Tell me now!”
David closed his eyes and quivered somewhat. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know,” David said.
He forced a smile. “I really don’t.”
The woman nodded and smiled. “Okay, thanks.”
“H-how about you? Tell me then?”
“What?”
“Tell me about the goblins more.”
“Just wait, okay?” The woman turned to leave.
David stopped her. “No, I want to know now.”
The woman squinted for a split-second. “What’s with you? I said ‘wait’!” She sounded annoyed.
David removed his hand from her. “You said ‘communicate’ so communicate.”
“Wait.” She left.
David stopped and sat down. He stared for hours until the woman returned.
During that time, he said, “What do goblins have to do with me, huh?”
When David and the woman returned home, David stared at the moon. “I’m just a stupid boy who came from Earth. Nothing about me is special. If I had a choice, I’d…” He mouthed his next words.
The woman overheard him, sighed, and put down a cup hard on a table.
David watched a goblin go about its day. “I’m getting obsessed with these creatures. I’ve never seen creatures… oh, wait, maybe I have. I’ve seen a bonobo. That’s like a goblin. At the zoo, oh, the zoo, what a pleasant surprise.” He cursed. “Memories suck. Gotta sort it out. Is that another goblin? Ooh! It’s small cute, but at the same time, it is quite ugly. The rotten teeth is grossing me out… manlily.” When he said ‘manlily,’ he meant ‘in the manliest way possible.’
A group of goblins cheered and celebrated as David glanced between them. “Sophia said I could stay here and not get caught, but I’m starting to think they know I’m here.” His head pressed against the ceiling. “It hurts, dang.”
A goblin exploded as horses arrived. These horses carried people with rhino heads.
The goblin that exploded hit the ground, and the goblins screamed and fled.
David inched away and sprinted.
One of the rhino-headed people sighted him and informed the rest.
A group of goblins entered cages as the rhino-headed people left with them.
David fell against a bed. “I need to stop chasing after these monsters. Nothing about them will change. They’re just animals like everyone else. I need a breather.”
He went outside and avoided the pool because of his bad memory. He leaned against a balustrade and enjoyed the city view. “Delightful. I don’t need to think about it either. If I were to hang out here forever, maybe I’d become naught.” His head contained feelings and toughts of granduer or impressive might. “If I were to be here, I’d be done.”
Sophia touched his back. “How’s it going? You’re okay?”
David turned away.
Sophia hugged him.
They stayed like that for a long while.
David forgave her. “Ok, why are you here?”
Sophia nodded. “We’re heading to a dungeon again, want to come?”
David tensed his lips. “Sure? There’s a lot going on right now, and I need to stop. By the way, you know about the rhino heads? They’re on the way here now.”
Sophia nodded and gave him a delightful smile. 
David’s lips curled upward in disgust, but his expression disappeared after a split-second.
Sophia sat on a carriage and offered a potion to the tall man whom David last saw a few days before. 
The potion was red, but it also glowed blue if you tilted it a certain way.
The tall man raised his hands and declined it.
Sophia nodded as hundreds of goblins glanced around and marched outside.
David stared at an empty potion. “What is that?” He remembered that the potion was the same potion Sophia used to get him out of his spell of madness.
He ran and stopped Sophia. “I’ve decided to come.”
Sophia offered him a two-person seat and sat down on that seat.
David accepted and sat. “Hey, excuse me, how old are you again?”
The tall man reciprocated David’s polite bow and said, “I’m forty-two. Around the same age as your wife. We’ve been correcting a few things in the south.”
“I’ve never known.” David sounded enthusiastic since Sophia’s ‘damage control’ in their relationship.
The tall man raised his brows somewhat for a split-second. “Y-yeah.” David’s enthusiasm intimidated him. He explained many things as the goblins marched and the night became bright day.
David nodded. “Good. Thank you again, Robert.” When he said ‘Robert,’ he sounded somewhat awkward, but he gave a firm smile and wave as they parted ways.
Sophia followed him. “We’re not going there.” 
David stopped and laughed. “Oh!”
Robert squatted, pointed, and looked through a telecope as David and Sophia joined him.
“What are we to do?” said a voice from Robert’s left.
“Make way,” said a group of soldiers to one another as they approached Robert. “Robert, Sophia’s been taking things into her own hands again.”
David gave a knowing, amused smirk.
Robert glanced at David, but he looked confused. He stood up and shook hands with the soldiers. He almost bowed, but he stopped. He turned toward David and pointed. “These are David and Sophia.”
David and Sophia looked confused.
The soldiers grimaced. “We know them, Sir.”
Sophia smiled. “Yes, that’s my Sir.”
David’s cheeks flushed.
Robert yelped. “My bad then.” He returned to observing a small settlement with his telecope. “Those goblins sure do know something.”
One of the soldiers, a taller man named “James,” said, “You know, there’s nothing inherently troublesome about those hawkneyed stories.”
“I didn’t like them either, but today, we’re using them if not for a little while. Get the parasol!”
The soldiers made way for a lavender purple– and mustard yellow–dressed group of people.
These dressed people revealed parasols and curtains and wooden frames, stakes, pegs, and poles. “What’s time?”
“Time is to launch a secret confusion tactic at the enemy.” Robert sounded confident albeit a little awkward with his wide gestures.
The soldiers squatted and rested.
David hugged Sophia as they whispered and flirted with one another.
Robert grew more awkward with his gestures and dropped them. “Okay, we’re going then.” He wiggled his hips as he walked, reflecting his awkward nature.
When Robert went outside of earshot, Sophia giggled.
David stopped her.
The soldiers joined Sophia, but this time, they guffawed. They were laughing about something else though. The goblins’ small walls looked funny to them.
Sophia slowed down her laugh and stopped laughing.
David looked concerned for a moment. “Hey, Sophia, what’s with the potion?”
Sophia widened her eyes for a split-second. “Yes, what’s with the potion?”
David made his expression deadpan. “I don’t care about the potion, but please tell me what it is.” He made his voice quick but natural.
Sophia cleared her throat.
“So, you mean the potion that… what?”
David clasped her shoulder. “You know what?” His tone was vague. “I meant the potion that you used to help me get out of my ‘out.’”
“‘Out’? Out? Oh, that ‘out.’”
“Yes. That ‘out.’”
“I got it from Robert’s potion-makers if that’s what you’re asking.”
David nodded and head-pointed at the goblin gates.
The dressed group of people entered formation and created a display of colors and parasols. They danced.
“This is our gift!” Robert cheered, his hands raised. He succeeded in sounding natural this time.
David’s grin came naturally.
Sophia gave a teacher-like thumbs-up and round of claps.
A goblin with a robe opened the gates and approached the dressed group of people. “I acquired an elucidation higher than you tight-lipped, boy-chasing, acrobatic nonsense of a civilization.”
David frowned. “John.”
The goblin named “John” pointed. “And we have a greeting from one of my favorite humans!” He turned his head toward a group of goblin soldiers nearby. “What’s his name, soldier?” 
“Soldier?” said a soldier. “Uh, yes, I’m Dexter.”
John raised its brows higher. “Hmm?”
The soldier named “Dexter” gave small nods. “His name is… I don’t know.”
John bit his lip and raised his hand as if to slap Dexter.
Dexter froze.
 “I almost slapped you,” John said, “but—” He raised his hand again.
Dexter flinched this time.
John showed a ha-got-you smile.
Robert greeted John and offered his name.
“Robert the knight.” John mimicked Robert’s voice.
“No, I’m not a knight.”
“Robert the human.”
“Yes—”
“Roberta!”
“O-okay, that works too.”
Robert raised his hands and casted a spirit-resisting spell. “Someone among you uses intimidation.” He sounded hurt.
“Me.” John’s voice became deep and harsh like waves eroding underwater rock.
Davi
Man Walks Two Dogs Toward a Field of Crawling Zombies January 5, 2023
John got up, and two dogs approached him. One of them was a tall dog named “Pucchi,” and the other was a small dog named “John Lennon.” He patted them one by one until each of them was satisfied. He got up and left, looking for a place where hundreds of zombies crawled and screamed for help.
He 
Mute Amnesiac Fighter Astaroth Drifts Through Violence Under the Watch of Mentor Michael Rooves January 6, 2023
A young man attacked a small goblin, and the goblin responded with a kick.
The man pushed the goblin, and it fell. “What a calamity. Should I just leave this thing be? How do you work out these things? I’ve been having difficulty copying it entirely. I hope to get things done by the end of the semester. Me and my friends all the same. We’re doing everything together. I hope we’re not the only ones fighting mobs like this one. In any case, let me just… is that a goblin? I was arranging my folders, and I was in a game…” He had been inside a virtual reality game, but for a special reason, he entered this world. The challenge was that this world was real.
The goblin screamed and cried.
The man froze.
He bent over to observe the goblin’s features. “This is… what is this…? I know what this is, but what is this?”
He kicked the air, and the goblin flinched.
“Hmm,” he said. His voice sounded cold, but inside, he was struggling to keep it together.
A tear dropped.
“No…” He glanced at the walls and hugged himself. He fell to his knees. “No, no, no.” The shadows of the walls loomed, and he shook.
The goblin scratched his leg and ran.
The young man raised his brows.
He touched his wounds. “Ew.”
He hissed.
He got up and reached toward the walls. “I can’t imagine being this close to a wall.” He shook his head and thought about caves and the claustrophobic, gorey imaginations thereof. “I…”
He bolted and turned around a corner. “Get—” He grabbed the walls and pushed himself forward. “Out—” He tripped, hit his knee, shut his mouth, gritted his teeth, and groaned. “Of—” He got up and reached toward the darkness, touching critters that creeped him out. “My—” He yelped and cried when something bit him. His arm dangled, and he backed away. “Way…” He widened his eyes and froze.
A treant emerged, leaned over, and opened its eyes. It blinked multiple times and moved its enormous eyeballs toward the young man.
The young man hit his back against the wall. “I…” He gulped, and the air choked him.
He leaned against the wall as he squatted down. He sat on the ground. He stuttered.
The treant left and walked away through a corridor.
The young man opened its eyes and jumped to his feet. He scampered around like a racoon, grabbing the walls and walking on four legs.
The treant became visible.
Sitting down, it pounded the ground in a corner far away.
The young man covered its mouth and sprinted away.
Two figures emerged from the walls. “Welcome to the Labyrinth—” Their voices pierced the ears.
His hands shaking, The young man threw his hands around and shut his eyes tight.
The voices crept beside his ear.
The young man grabbed and pushed the owners of these voices away. “Get away from me!” He groaned and whimpered under his voice.
A treant emerged, and its eyes watched him from above.
The young man tilted his head upward, and his head shook. His face crumpled, and he collapsed. He tried to grab the ground, but the ground was flat. He hyperventilated.
The treant left.
The two figures grabbed his shoulder and bit him.
He looked at them.
They were tall women with wraith-like costumes. Their contorted faces split, and from within them, two hands emerged and reached out at the young man.
The young man backed away and fell on his buttocks. He whimpered. “No! No! No!” His voice was a scream and a howl.
He stared at the walls, and these walls shifted shape and size until they disappeared.
A forest emerged and suppplanted the cave he was in. The cave was gone, and the forest took its place. He was in it.
The young man touched his collarbone and thought it was a hand reaching out from his body. He yelped and hissed at the pain of his wounds. He closed his eyes, and a tall man emerged from behind a tree.
“Welcome to your new world,” said the tall man, American Dream-embodying in appearance and demeanor. “I am Michael Rooves. The plural of ‘roof.’”
The young man rubbed his Asian nose. “Huh?”
“In any case, have this.” He shot the young man a cup, and it slammed against the front-facing part of his shoulder.
The young man flew and hit the tree.
“Bullseye.”
The young man landed perfectly and bowed. He yelped and collapsed.
The tall man stood still, smirked, and tilted its head as it listened to the young man’s whimpering.
The young man touched its shoulder, and it was fine. It had healed when he was falling. He caressed his body and widened his eyes. His body had moved on its own when he landed perfectly and bowed.
He pointed his attention toward the tall man. He mumbled and struggled to speak. He tried to speak, but he failed. He widened his eyes, and his chest moved up and down as if something pounded it and it bounced back up. He touched his neck, and his throat felt full. He mouthed words, but his words came out as mumbling and gibberish.
The tall man made a contorted grin for a split-second. “Good day, Astaroth.”
The young man named “Astaroth” stared in silence, still failing to speak and doing his best. His shoulders fell, and he hit his head when he lay down. He made a small whimper, furrowed his brows for a moment, and closed his eyes.
He cried softly.
The tall man hugged Astaroth. “Do you know why it is important to fail?
“Growth.
“Do you know why it is crucial to struggle?
“Importance.
“A man’s worth is equivalent to the magnitude of his struggle and his attempts to push against it.”
Astaroth’s eyes were empty, and his mind wandered elsewhere.
He was a small boy with two legs, two arms, and two eyes. Yet, he felt like an alien, a foreigner in the land of people like him. He touched the sky, and it moved as if it was inches away and quivered like water.  The water bent, and gravity changed. He flew sideways and rotated as if he was in a tornado. He flew and hit the ground of a glade of a forest.
“Hey, Astaroth. Shine up and keep that little teeth glowing.”
Astaroth raised his head and pushed his belly off the ground. He stopped lying down and stood up, touching the wind and failing to catch it. He focused his attention toward the tall man. Astaroth reached out toward his own mouth and stopped before he could grab it. He closed his mouth and shut it tight for good.
The tall man stared and shifted between his legs. “I should’ve offered you a cup of tea.” He handed Astaroth a cup of choco.
Astaroth, whose real name was “John,” nodded.
“Do you want a killer’s tool instead?”
Astaroth nodded, and the cup turned into a sword.
Astaroth swung at a tree and destroyed it.
“Kill them all.”
Astaroth swung at the trees and destroyed them one by one.
“All.” The tall man’s composure broke, and he showed a little passion.
Astaroth tripped and destroyed seven trees in one swing.
“A-a-all!” The tall man screamed in delight. He danced and jumped. “Yahoo!”
Astaroth disappeared, and his body merged with the ground. His shadow remained behind, and it wandered through the land.
He reappeared as Astaroth the Butcher. His kill count was zero.
Ten men stared at him while greeting travelers.
Astaroth dressed in black, and his clothes had scratch marks. Some parts of his clothes had holes, and his privates were showing. He mumbled, and his speaking was harsh and painful.
He gulped, but he hissed.
He tested the weight and texture of his sword by opening his hand and grasping the sword many times.
His lips curled, and his face showed mockery.
A drip of blood touched the ground.
He touched it, pressed it against his wrist, and spread it. He pressed his wrist against his cheek and moved his head to rub it.
A man bumped him. “What are you doing here?”
Astaroth grinned and laughed.
The man suppressed his flinch and pointed. “Who are y-you! State your business!” He revealed daggers. He was a bandit.
Astaroth grabbed him by the chin and plunged his sword through the man’s mouth.
The man’s eyes bled, and his face split in half.
Astaroth removed his sword and wiped it. He rubbed his cheeks against his sword and cut himself. He hissed, rubbed his cheeks with his hand, and hissed again. He whimpered.
The other nine men with the dead man charged at Astaroth with wooden maces and swords.
Astaroth dashed, kicked them, almost tripped, and slashed at a man’s shoulder. His sword became stuck, and he kicked the man to pull it out.
The rest of the nine men slashed him.
Astaroth’s clothes broke, and pieces fell to the ground. His skin, flesh, and muscles regenerated albeit slowly.
Astaroth dodged and dashed away after he had caught three swings against his torso. He whimpered and cried, but his head shook as his anger took over him.
In between his expressions of rage, depression emerged, but it hid itself and waited for a while before it returned.
Astaroth pounded a man and contorted the man’s stomach. He plunged his blade and pressed his blade’s guard for good measure. The man’s eyes became still, and his eyes reflected Astaroth’s tall figure slashing two men to half after two long dashes.
Astaroth kicked a man and sideways and tripped, hitting his head against a rock. His mouth shut, he whimpered, and his voice was deep. But it sounded innocent.
Astaroth grabbed man’s ear and pulled it. He failed to remove it. He slashed the man’s neck instead and stomped his back toward the ground. He stepped atop the man and thrusted at a shield.
The shield soaked up Astaroth’s attack, but Astaroth’s cape flew and hit the man’s face.
The man fell to his knees and leaned backward as Astaroth kneeled and stabbed the man through the ribs.
For a moment, Astaroth formed the posture of a praying man.
Astaroth raised his sword out of the man and stood, looking toward the towers in the distance. He mouthed, “I find many places just like this.”
He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes.
He was a tall man, Michael Rooves.
Michael Rooves’ face grew older at rapid speed, but it disappeared and only a flat surface emerged on his face.
Michael Rooves’ head turned and contorted until it formed Astaroth’s head shape. A nose emerged and inched out of its face. Two eyes appeared. A mouth. Ears. It mirrored Astaroth’s face.
Astaroth opened his eyes, and he imagined Michael Rooves as he studied the colors of his gauntlet, sword handle, and arm.
Astaroth leapt and ran. His arm bled, but it healed eventually.
He shut his mouth, mumbled, and cheered, imitating Michael Rooves’ “Yahoo.”
His form camouflaged into the forest and disappeared in the eyes of many.
Michael Rooves levitated beside the clouds and snickered.
Astaroth stopped when Michael Rooves’ snicker reached him. He pinched his clothes, but he ran anyway.
Two giants stared at him and glared. “Great. Another up-and-comer slaughterer. What, Sir, are you up to now?”
Astaroth removed his hood, and his body looked feminine. His body combined with his his long hair was the culprit.
“A woman?”
Astaroth stopped, turned away, took a short moment to process the giant’s words, and understood. He shook his head with two limp swings.
The two giants nodded. “Okay, you may pass either way.”
Astaroth ran and stopped. He looked up and nodded toward them as a thank-you gesture.
The giants’ faces lit up. They nodded back.
Astaroth continued and sprinted faster than the giants could.
“How does one take such quiet steps and still be as fast as that?”
Astaroth passed a mountain range, crossed two enormous boulders, and reached a river where villagers walked around.
Astaroth stared and tensed his lips.
The villagers noticed him.
Astaroth raised his head and bowed.
The villagers ran and hid.
Astaroth stopped bowing after a minute or two, waiting for the villagers to reciprocate the gesture.
He went out in the forest and bathed. He grabbed a stick and rubbed his cheeks against it.
Two villagers observed and greeted him. “Howdy, little one!” said one of them, a man carrying expensive potions. “Taking a bath out here is a crime! But since you look like a kind soul, why don’t you listen to our story? There, you’ll see the forest of Groin. That’s where I excavated a pouch of gold.” He pushed away the other villager until she left.
Astaroth raised a brow and tensed the other.
“Pound of gold, I mean,” said the man as the potions that he carried tinkled against one another. “Anyways, it wasn’t really a forest, and we’re not really from here. We live in a small cottage. Expensive… Oh, oh! They call us cottagers.”
Astaroth forced a smile and raised his shoulders.
“Anyways, we had to give away our gold and everything else that we brought here. We lost our home by reason of a wildfire. Unfortunate, isn’t it?”
Astaroth nodded.
“So you can understand us? I thought you were an inbred for a second. My bad.”
Astaroth shook, and he leapt.
The potion man raised a hand, and Astaroth’s body contorted out of magic.
Astaroth fell to his knees.
Sitting down, the potion man covered his mouth with both hands, pressed his elbows against his hips, and sighed. “You don’t have to create chaos all the frickin’ time. Did I say anything mean? Anything that I might hurt you? Tell me! Because what’s the point in having a mouth if you don’t want to use it.”
Astaroth struggled to convey his inability to speak.
The potion man understood and stopped his magic. “My bad.” He cursed. “But why attack me? Don’t you know boundaries? If you think I said or did something wrong, at least alarm me first.” He covered his mouth and took deep breaths.
Astaroth sat and crossed his legs, rubbing his cheeks against his sword’s handle.
The potion man glanced at him, squinted, and touched his cheek. “You’re weird, aren’t you?”
Astaroth stared.
The potion man sighed. “Dang, whatever, you can go. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Astaroth left.
The potion man sighed again and again.
Astaroth spotted a bird. “What a beautiful bird,” he mouthed. His heart rate slowed down, and he let his weapon fall and hit the ground.
Two treants emerged, turned left and right, and called. Their enormous hands reached out at Astaroth.
Astaroth flinched and mumbled when he meant to scream. He ran and tripped, falling downhill. His body broke.
Lying at the bottom of a hill, he regenerated.
The treants ran toward a bird of prey and caught it, caressing it.
Astaroth’s eyes were shaking, but his expression was deadpan. His eyes became wet. His mouth was still.
He mouthed, “I am so frustrated.” He stood up with the help of his sword. He used his sword as a walking stick and trudged toward a village. His stomach hurt.
Two villagers raised a hand toward him.
Astaroth smiled.
A small army of soldiers emerged from the corner. They got off their horses and aimed crossbows toward Astaroth.
Astaroth closed his eyes, gulped, and struggled to correct his breathing. His face twitched, and his brows furrowed.
He sprinted away.
The soldiers shot, and one of the bolts pinned him to the ground.
Astaroth cut the bolt and freed himself. He sprinted around a corner into the forest.
The soldiers stopped at the edge of the village. They raised their hands over their eyes and glanced around. “Nowhere,” said their leader.
The leader removed his clothes and went naked. “I want to check the priests and ask for their opinion.” A bright light appeared and covered him, and his form became a sillhouete.
He disappeared, and he returned via the same bright light. It was silent, and the soldiers only heard the boots of the leader hitting the ground.
The leader smiled.
Astaroth swung himself forward, holding onto a branch. He landed lamely and hit his head. He became unconscious for a moment.
He got up, pushed himself, and stood. “Where’s the village again?”
His arms ached because of the weight of his sword. He dropped it and remove his clothes, showing his supple skin and beautiful chest. He bathed and swam.
A fish bit his leg.
He grabbed it and threw it over the pool edge.
After he finished his bath, he cooked, ate the fish, and satisfied his hunger.
He drank from the pool and left, finding a city after a few days of travel. He ate a rabbit on the way.
When he entered the city, the governor had prescribed a fee for leaving and entering. He left because he lacked any sort of money.
He traveled two forests from the city, stopped, and hunted fish. He ate well, but in the night, he got an urge.
A group of travelers spotted him, and they ran.
He slashed at them, cut their necks, and destroyed their cart.
One of the travelers retreated and alerted soldiers.
The same small army of soldiers arrievd when Astaroth had fled and returned to his camp.
Two bandits spotted him and alerted a gang of goblins.
The goblins arrived.
Astaroth drank and petted his sword, pressing it against his cheek.
The goblins shot him with an arrow, and Astaroth hit the ground.
He pulled the arrow from his back and shouted.
The goblins flinched.
Astaroth ran and slashed the goblins, breaking their toes and grasping their chins. He plunged the tip of his shoes into their mouths and punched their foreheads. The goblins flew and hit the ground and trees. One of them fell into a fire and burned alive.
He ended its pain.
The goblins lost their moral and retreated.
Astaroth shook his head and rotated his sword. He dropped it and leaned over to pick it up.
A goblin shot a bow and hit his neck.
Astaroth fell.
The goblins ran back and stabbed at his back.
Astaroth protected his nape and head, slashed them, tripped them, and stabbed them one by one.
He fell asleep as soon as he killed the second to last one.
The last goblin stabbed him in the back.
Astaroth woke up 30 minutes later after the goblin stabbed him 320 times.
The goblin became weak after five stabs, especially since Astaroth regenerated. His consecutive stabs were paper-thin wounds.
Astaroth got up, and his face crumpled because of the pain.
After he regenerated and all his wounds disappeared, he smiled, tears dripping and pooling on the ground.
He fell asleep.
In the evening, when he woke up, he dragged the goblin and hugged it.
He petted it and fed it food.
The goblin was too exhausted to feed itself.
Astaroth begged it for information.
The goblin shook its head.
Astaroth stopped giving the goblin food.
The goblin whimpered quietly.
Astaroth returned the food and frowned.
The goblin pressed down on the food with its frail mouth.
Astaroth rubbed his cheek against the top of the goblin’s head and left.
He stood at the edge of a village as the small army of soldiers mobilized.
He gestured his desire to know about the goblins. He raised a goblin’s hand and waved it at the soldiers.
The soldiers shot at him.
He ran and returned home, finding the goblin’s body.
The goblin had forced itself to eat by itself and choked on the food when Astaroth returned.
Astaroth threw its body into a pond and kicked it. “Yahoo,” he mouthed.
Two soldiers took a trip and visited a dungeon where hundreds of monstrous ants screeched and feasted on cows.
They screamed and ran off, passing by Astaroth’s hidden camp and waking Astaroth up.
Astaroth got up and chased after them.
The soldiers took a stance when they saw a tall figure sprinting and flailing their arms. They shot.
The bolts hit Astaroth, and he hit the ground.
Astaroth’s healing stopped working.
The soldiers ran away.
Astaroth reached out toward the sun as the potion man emerged. He handed Astaroth a potion. “Tsk! They’ve got me all charted up. Hey, drink this, and your wounds will heal.”
Astaroth groaned, raised his head and hand, but his hand failed to stay up and fell.
“Come on,” said the potion man. “Drink! Fast!” He force-fed Astaroth and grabbed the back of Astaroth’s head to position him. “Where have you been staying?”
Astaroth shook his head.
“Tsk! Either way, there is my home. We’re going there, and I’ll be watching you.”
Astaroth shook his head and eye-pointed at the ground where he was multiple times.
The potion man nodded and frowned. “Maybe you’re right… The soldiers are probably coming. Go then. Stand up.”
Astaroth stood up as the potion which he drank healed his wounds.
The potion man left.
Astaroth returned to his camp.
The potion man glanced at Astaroth and blinked many times.
A group of soldiers entered the same dungeon.
An ant emerged, grabbed one of the soldiers, retreated deep inside the dungeon.
The soldiers aimed and shot. One of them hit the ant’s forehead, and the ant collapsed.
A wave of ants emerged from behind the dead ant and charged at the soldiers.
The soldiers ran off.
The ants reached them and killed some of them.
The potion man showed himself, standing atop an ant. He wore different clothes from when he had left Astaroth. He wore a outfit whose designer had coalesced purple and yellow shades. He shifted between his legs, raised his hands over his head, and rested them on his nape. “Let them go.”
The soldiers went home and shared the news of the dead soldiers to their families.
Astaroth approached the potion man. “What’s going on?”
“Follow me,” the potion man said. “Follow me.”
Astaroth nodded, and he trudged behind the potion man.
The potion man passed by a river and pointed in a direction. “You can go there if you want to find a home… Just don’t get lost. There are monster bees that’ll eat you if you’re not careful.”
Astaroth tried to mouth something.
The potion man tilted his head. “What’s that?”
Astaroth shook his head and suppressed a frown.
The potion man noticed his frown. “If you’re brave, you can try crawling your way up that”—he pointed in the distance behind Astaroth—”mountain. It’s a good treasure if you’re up to fighting creatures with the length of one of these types.” He gestured toward the trees.
He looked away, looked back, and squinted, pressing his hands on his hips. “The height, I mean.”
Astaroth gave big nods.
He rubbed his fingers against his sword handle, unsheathed it, and slashed at the potion man’s nape.
The potion man yelled and hit his head, losing consciousness and bleeding profusely.
Astaroth made him drink a potion and tied him up. He blind-folded him just in case.
The potion man woke up.
Astaroth grabbed the man’s chin.
“Is that you? Why… why are you doing this?” He tilted his head toward his right.
Astaroth tilted his head, following the potion man. He glanced around himself and listened for ant footsteps.
The potion man cried. “I didn’t do anything. What’s the problem, son?”
Astaroth stabbed the man’s knee, his head turned elsewhere.
The ants’ footsteps reached his ears.
Astaroth beheaded the potion man.
The ants’ footsteps grew louder nevertheless as Astaroth rubbed his sword.
Astaroth puked when he smelled the potion man’s corpse. 
He glanced at the body. He could discern the features of the man’s face better than the soldiers and the other people he had met.
The ants became visible and sighted him.
Astaroth fled, flailing his arms. He leapt, climbed, and dashed.
Seven hundred ants marched toward Astaroth in hopes of slaying him.
Astaroth cheered as he traversed the hilly forest. The glades revealed groups of creatures he had only seen in pictures back at Earth. Among many other species, warty pigs, deer, long-tailed macaques, palm civets, finches, parrots, dragonflies, and damselflies lived about.
Astaroth ignored them and dodged as much of the thickest vegetation as he could.
He returned home when two pigs had wandered into his camp. He stopped them from eating his food and turned them into farm animals for himself.
He fed them water from the pond. He tried to craft a bucket, but his backet had gaps through which the precious water could spill.
He sighed.
Only a day later, the pigs stopped walking and lay down all day. He killed, cooked, and ate them, worried their inertia was sickness-related.
He became sick, but his body quickly recovered.
He cheered and traveled to the potion man’s dungeon.
Corpes of the giant ants lay on the ground all around. He counted 50 ants within his sight since some of the cave routes were blocked.
He left and surveyed the area, inspecting the corners and places where people could hide. He found a couple of trolls hours away from the dungeon.
He approached them.
“What’s that?” said one of the trolls, tall with a positive, gentleman-style attitude.
“Looks to be a 500-year-old man recovered from a special death cart that dates back to the beginning of the Recohg Plague,” said the other troll, shorter whose demeanor screamed boredom.
Astaroth’s demeanor was more excitable and willful.
Astaroth gestured his inability to speak.
The trolls nodded and explained the reasons behind their finery and each of their accessories.
Astaroth pretended he cared about it.
After a few fails, he gestured that he was in favor of a plan where the trolls became his subordinates.
The trolls became stonefaced and stared him down.
Astaroth’s gaze stayed strong.
The trolls turned around.
Astaroth panicked and tried to shout, but his voice came out as wheezes and mumbling.
When he ran, the trolls casted a spell that made him bleed profusely.
Astaroth choked on his own blood as his body regenerated. He spit it out again and again.
“I can’t believe I haven’t considered that maybe he’s not unable to speak,” said the troll who had spoken first. “He could be a brain-rotted one.”
“That kind?” said the other one. “How bad are you thinking?”
“Jull Mage.” The first troll frowned for a split-second.
The other one gargled and spit.
Astaroth threw his sword.
“Son, take off that band of courage and walk away.”
Astaroth shook. He imagined the potion man’s purple, yellow outfit.
Thief David Gets Healed by Strangers Then Hides in a Barrel January 6, 2023
A young man named “David” walked around with his hands in his pockets. His mind wandered to the smallest things: “The worth of a man was crucial to one’s understanding of the world.” He blabbered about philosophical things despite his status as a thief.
He sat down and listened to the knocking on a door, the fight of a man and a woman, and the cackle of a small boy. He relaxed.
A blade struck his back, and he fell over.
Two older men grabbed and straightened him, and their hands moved over his head. “Heal,” they both said at once.
David’s bleeding stopped. The blood remained, but David got up and sprinted, his healthy back swinging left and right.
The older men waved at him as David ran for his life.
David fell against a fence and hurt himself. He pushed himself and stood up. He had tripped when he hit the ground.
He surveyed the area in front of him, reached out behind him, and grabbed the rim of a barrel. He fit himself inside this barrel. 
He hid for hours, listening to the wind and the careless boys and girls frolicking about.
Two voices emerged from behind him.
“What’s wrong with making amends?” said one of the voices. “Son, you don’t got the moxie to tear her open like she touted you would. I say, ‘Say you’re a whiney little cat.’”
The other voice said, “Opossum…”
“What’s that?”
“I’m not an opossum!”
The first voice was laughing. “W-where’d you get that?”
“I read it in the book my mother keeps.”
“The book…” The first voice guffawed. “Anyways, I have to meet someone.” He left.
David jumped out of the barrel and made an elegant landing.
The second voice, the boy, screamed and sprinted away.
David left.
Goblin David Survives Giant Spiders, Gets Captured by Adventurers, and Escapes via Golem Transformation January 24, 2023
In a claustrophobic cave, rocks collected dust, and water dripped from the corners of the ceiling and walls. The nose-clogging smell of damp earth filled the air until it felt like a chokehold.
Inside one of the corridors of this cave, a young goblin leapt from rock to rock, chased by thousands of tiny spiders that were spitting venom toward him. These spits of venom missed, flying past him, falling to the ground, and blocking his path. Avoiding the path, he took another straight path with jaw-dropping, spine-chilling cliffs on the sides. As he strided, he stumbled, his heart dropping. He tripped off a cliff into a hole.
He let out muffled groans as he rolled around, his muscles aching from the impact. He pushed himself off the ground, sitting up, breathing hard.
He stood up and couldn’t understand his situation, seeing faces in the darkness. He focused, a horrified expression creeping up to his face, seeing hundreds of goblins that were trapped by the webs of the spiders behind these faces. Even worse, the goblins were mumbling and staring at the walls with a dead look in their eyes. 
His body froze, but his knees became weak, which made him stumble. 
He didn’t want to stop at just profanities. He wanted to monologue for hours about his ugly life.
However, when he heard nearby dirt getting pushed around underfoot behind him by the spiders, he realized it was too late to utter anything. So he stood up and darted around, praying for an escape route. 
The groans became louder, making him shudder. As he slammed the walls searching for a secret exit to reveal itself, the spiders rushed down the slope behind him, their still expressions with their absurdly quick legs causing him to cry. The spiders changed direction and hurried toward the other goblins, gluing them together with webs.
The young goblin felt his lungs constrict, his head hot and his heart racing. As he ran, he hit his arm on the wall, touching sharp rock, smelling a tang of nose-irritating blood. He hoped to soothe his throat, but he accidentally swallowed blood and coughed it out. He lay down as the spiders crawled over him. He slowly let out a dry scream, hurting his tough-skinned throat.
He closed his eyes and cast a magic spell, causing his body to break apart and his mind to become stimulated and delusional. Yet, he was still alive. A wave of intense happiness filled him, making him laugh. He gained an extreme sensitivity to touch, sound, and sight, making him wince and want to cover his eyes. Everything he touched felt all the more visceral to him like every inch of his body was screaming. His ears heard the sounds as if they were as loud as a scream and inside his head, making his shake his head to relieve the pain. His eyes hurt when he look at the darkest things, seeing them as bright flashes of light, feeling a searing pain. Along with his intense happiness, he felt an irrational anger take over him, shivering. Sporadically, he would scan his surroundings, believing that it was alive and it was trying to end him, murmuring. The magic spell ended, removing its euphoria and all the its other symptoms.
The parts of his body recombined in a different fashion, making him into a golem. His golem form was much more bigger and stronger than his goblin form, allowing him to defeat his enemies instead of running away. He returned to life and stopped the spiders, knocking them unconscious. He had gotten this ability to transform from a spellbook in his first cave dungeon, but this ability only made him feel a great responsibility to be better than his peers. He believed he got this by luck, making him happy but also making terrified that one day, he would die by something miniscule by chance.
He dashed backward and accidentally hit his head on the wall. Bleeding, he felt a throbbing ache, but because he finally felt safe, any pain he had now was useless to him. 
Before coming here, the goblin was an average goblin who lived in a tribal society surrounded by hundreds of craftsmen and farmers. 
He was fine living that life until his parents died and taking care of them was redundant. He started a fresh journey where he enthusiastically studied plants and observed the wildlife with more intention on writing them down.
People only praised him for his zealousness, which made him more willing to undertake riskier actions like visiting caves. The caves were filled with monsters, and he fought most of them off with weapons he crafted and self-trained with. 
Today was his fifth time in a cave dungeon, and these spiders had wanted to eat him. Many other goblins like him existed, and many of them were like the dead ones behind him. 
He pitied them truly, but he had to suppress his pity if it meant he could unleash his frustration and create progress toward saving people’s lives, whether goblin or monster.
The spiders lived and breathed the same air as he did, making them animals like he was. His code of honor demanded respect on death, calling out evil doers, and engaing in diplomatic conflict resolution. 
But these spiders lacked the mouth of a goblin, which made his situation all the more horrifying. He would stop killing if he could find a magic of giving the gift of language and a more humane society to save them. However, that magic was still out of his reach. 
He promised himself he would find it even if he had to burn bridges, with a complete and utter defacement of his demeanor.
Feeling complex emotions of terror and relief, he pointed at the spiders’ bodies and teased them gleefully.
When he realized how close he was to death, he burst into laughter. He won, lying down and taking a long rest.
Later, in the evening, a group of wrinkly-faced adventurers opened up the door to a carriage and entered it, engaging in small talk. They traveled many days and stopped. As they exited, they started torches and discussed about a plan to enter a cave.
They soon entered a cave and found a room in where hundreds of spiders lay on the ground dead. They covered their noses, expecting a disgusting smell.
They saw a pile of rocks and walked up to it. They glanced at one another, agreeing to look under the rocks. They picked up and put away the rocks, finding David sleeping. They remarked about his funny sleeping position, laughing as they carried the goblin away.
These human adventurers only cared about getting the strongest goblins and seeing if they could become a part of human society.
To make matters worse, the humans ruled over the goblins and taxed them. More over than not, they would enslave goblins, which made them a formidable darkness looming over the land.
Later, David woke up in a banquet hall, surrounded by thousands of adventurers eating, drinking, and making fun. He couldn’t make sense of his situation and felt a tinge of pain in his head. He stumbled and fell to the ground. He looked up as a group of adventurers tidied him up and put him on the chair. He froze out of fear and watched the adventurers, his heart pounding against his chest. The lights in the large room were too bright and hurt his eyes and thus hurt his mind as well. He fainted.
Later, in a den, adventurer with purple-colored hair pressed his nose, and the young goblin woke up, rubbing his head. The young goblin couldn’t recognize the bright purple color in front of him, feeling an immediate dread. He reached out behind him and grabbed a table. The texture of the table was unknown to him, and he retracted his arm, making a yelp. He gazed at the adventurer, hyperventilating.
The adventurer patted his head, making the goblin scream and cry.
The adventurer cast a spell, calming the goblin down.
The goblin’s emotions disappeared, leaving him confused and bewildered. He furrowed his brows, looking from side to side. The room looked unfamliar, but at least, his emotions were calm. Yet, a feeling of dread loomed over him. He yearned to escape, but the adventurer looked too strong for him to handle. He bit his nails, feeling the hopelessness striking him. His heart was calm, but as he stood up, his expression revealed his great sadness. He thought the adventurer would kill him, closing his eyes with a glare that showed hints of acceptance.
The adventurer handed him a drink, making the goblin drool.
The goblin trembled, covering his face, expecting the adventurer to hit him.
The adventurer shook the drink a little with a friendly smile that reached the eyes.
The goblin tensed his lips, not because he distrusted the adventurer’s friendliness, but because he was thirsty and wanted to drink so badly.
He fell to the ground, raising his hands, still half-expecting the adventurer to attack him and finish him off.
The adventurer laughed, amused by how terrified, weak, and confused the goblin was, making the goblin touch his face in fear.
The goblin looked so confused, making the adventurer laugh louder.
The goblin began to cry, tears dripping on his hips. He was so confused that he felt lost, but part of him wanted to believe the adventurer’s laugh contained pity for him. As his tears dripped faster, he thought that he could escape the adventurer if they kept laughing, truly letting down their guard.
The adventurer stopped laughing, making the goblin think they could read his thoughts.
The goblin closed his eyes again.
The adventurer put the drink down on the table and left with a smirk.
The goblin opened his eyes once the adventurer left. A feeling of confusion made him look around the room. He couldn’t make sense of his situation, making him stand up and explore the room he was in. The room contained pots and vaces, items that reminded him of human culture. He rubbed his arm and hugged himself, imaging the adventurers putting his head in the vaces. He imagined goblins’ heads in the vaces and let out a muffled scream. He inched toward one of the vaces and found it empty. He stared, expecting a goblin’s head to reveal itself. However, the vace he was looking at stayed empty. He covered his mouth in shock, putting his arms against his chest with a feeling of hope. He saw a basket, reminding him of his home surrounded by baskets made by fellow goblins. With a frisson of both terror and nostalgia, he realized that the baskets had strings made by humans on them, yet the baskets also resembled the baskets made by his fellow goblins. Before he fell to the ground in confusion and fear, he pushed the drink that the adventurer gave him off the table, making the drink spill. With shock filling his heart, he froze. He thought he saw the adventurer’s shadow, his terrified mind tricking him.
The adventurer emerged and cast a spell, calming the young goblin down.
The goblin’s emotions disappeared, and he was left with a feeling of apathy. He forced a smile when he saw the adventurer’s full form.
The adventurer stopped, expecting the goblin to attack.
The goblin sat down and stared at the ground with a dead stare, but in his heart, he made plans to escape.
When they saw the goblin’s dead stare, the adventurer let down his guard, walking up to the goblin.
The goblin leapt and killed the adventurer, screaming in delight. He danced around the room. His arms outstretched, he pushed objects around the room and made it look messy, but he didn’t care. He was finally free. He saw the door which the adventurer had used to come and go and opened it, staring at the darkness ahead. He gulped, not because he was afraid, but because he was exhilirated. He believed he would escape.
He remembered the spiders and how he had gone to a cave expecting treasure. The goblins at the time were undead, and he didn’t care about them, forgetting their facial features. The adventurers ruled the land of goblins, which made him see them like leaders of the goblin tribe but even more mysterious and brutal. He forgot the face of the adventurer with purple-colored hair because human faces were hard to distinguish for him. Because he rememebered everything, he felt a great sense of motivation fill him, which restored his mana.
He transformed into a golem, using up his restored mana.
An adventurer noticed him and shouted, alarming the other thousand adventurers.
He climbed the walls and broke a hole in the ceiling, climbing out. He jumped off the building he was on and escaped.
He snickered as he closed his eyes, becoming hidden by the deep forest. He was finally free to return to the cave dungeons and understand the world around him. He promised himself that he would find a solution to his and his people’s plight.
The young goblin named “David” returned home surrounded by hundreds of goblins welcoming him with friendly faces. Most of them greeted him, while some of them waved. They and the experience of turning into a golem made him feel special, albeit it worried him. These complex emotions made him want to hide and be alone for a while. He excused himself, walked away, and entered a hut as hundreds of rats ran past him, some even scratching him. He froze, terrified by the rats even if he was never afraid of rats in the past. His fear of the rats now was because he was still scared by the deep cave, the giant spiders, and the unpredictable adventurers.
The next morning, in a spacious town, goblins discreetly smiled and tapped one another on the shoulder, and the pouring of water into buckets was a frequent, calming echo down the nearby vegetated hills and roads. The goblins’ sweat and mud-streaked chins energized them. Sparrows singing and roosters crowing motivated the goblins to stretch. The convoy of goblin travelers’ footsteps marked the start of the day, as they came and went at the same time every morning.
In one of the houses of the town, the young goblin David aggressively tried to fall asleep again, rolling around on his bed, looking for the perfect postion, hurting the side of his arm. “Ow!”
He grumpily promised himself that he would find the cure to weakness in the deepest, scariest dungeon.
In his dream, he found himself in a dense forest, and his body was drenched as if he had been standing in a rainstorm for hours. In this dream, hundreds of small children danced along a path toward him, their expressions full of joy. They didn’t scare him, but instead made him feel a sense of wonder and curiosity. He walked towards them, eager to join in their dance. Suddenly, a figure dressed in green and violet robes ethereally emerged from the ground. The figure made the children disappear with a wave of their hand. They handed him a potion that he drank, making him feel invigorated and full of energy. His head felt like it was filled with a vibrant energy, and he felt a sense of euphoria wash over him. He woke up, feeling refreshed and reinvigorated, ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.
As if he was hit with a club, he woke up, staring at the wall of his room for a few minutes, a tear dripping down his face. The dream overjoyed him until he cried, and it was too vivid for him to handle. His square room contained a cabinet surrounded by several wood carvings. He didn’t make the cabinet and the statues, but he certainly bought them from one of the town goblins. In addition to these items, several baskets made up his bed. The smallness of the baskets reminded him of the small children in his dream. He wondered if the potion existed either literally or metaphoricall—a potion that would make him determinated and not feel fear. He thought about the potion’s reflectiveness, feeling curious. His curiosity grew when he thought that the dream could be a divine sign.
He scrambled to look at his reflection, stumbling toward a pond. He jumped to the side of the pond and made a bunny hop to steady himself after landing. He leaned over, watching his reflection appear. His reflection remained unchanged. He stared at the distance, and it was beautiful, calming his nerves and reminding him of the morning air. However, nothing changed about his surroundings either. Disappointed, he squatted down and covered his face, realizing the dream was not real. But he still desparately hoped that the potion in the dream would grant him immortality and possibly change his eye colors, based on his knowledge of folk tales.
He cringed at his desperate hope, waving his arms around to relieve his cringe.
He slowly walked, getting faster, his eyes finding insight in the feeling of his feet hitting the ground. He breathed fast to compensate for his growing speed, grinning to ease his jump in heart rate. He cheered, raising his arms in the air, believing he was too desperate for anything to stop him. He sprinted downhill, relieving his cringe completely. 
He slowed down and stopped, plucking at his shirt and letting out a huff to recover. He straightened his posture, reminding himself that he was a proud to be David, looking around him. He found out that he was alone in a wide forest that looked like it sought to eat him up, but he glared at it. His voice stuttered a bit, but it grew more confident and willing as he spoke: “I will do what I have to.” He promised himself again that he would find the cure to weakness in the deepest, scariest dungeon.
Goblin David and Thomas Are Captured and Permanently Transformed by a Scythe-Headed Monster January 27, 2023
In the city of Newsworth, the sandals of thousands of goblins clacked uphill and downhill as they made their way to work. The goblins’ lips were chapped, and they tasted a hint of blood. Their breaths were thick with the smell of dust, like that of a cave.
Meanwhile, thousands of humans bustled about, their whispers and mutterings full of scholastic fervor and guild tidiness. They apathetically tasted commemorative cream as they walked, the scent of earthy, sweet leather pouches filled with coins wafting from their pockets.
In one of the villages of Newsworth, a young goblin named “David” sat down. Reluctant to engage in a conversation with his fellow goblins about his troubles, David raised his hand as if to hit something. He lowered his hand and pressed his chin against his palm; he frowned at the thought of leaving home again. He hated the grandiose ideas of adventure and preferred the simplicity and peaceful life of a handyman, causing him to hurl away his dagger and pat a handmade basket.
He scanned his room for a mechanical device to send a message to a friend from far away. He took out a magical compass from his waist pouch and pointed it toward the sun in the afternoon; his compass shook and turned reddish.
He let the compass go, and the compass floated, heading to the middle of his room. The reserved energy inside the compass grew until it exploded, causing a magical spirit to appear from the compass’ debris. The spirit waved her arms around in greeting and bowing in submission.
David, in agreement with his thoughts of clearing the debris later, nodded fervently.
In calm, casual spirits, he gave the spirit a friendly smile and a message to send to his friend, who also was his beloved brother, about an crucial agreement they made in the past. 
The spirit vanished, and David sat down and picked up a glass jar, staring at its tiny squares. He was content with his idle state because during this time, he thought about his plans and organized his thoughts.
Every bit of him hated the hurt of his past acts of violence and wished he could disappear with it. However, his current, soothing moments of empty action and fullness of clarity defied his previous traumatic experiences.
If he was to be stuck in a jail, he believed, through sheer willpower, one day, he would escape as long as he had evidence of this piece in his mind forever.
He inspected his hands, opening and closing them, completing his restoration to taking action. He left his house to a friend at the centre of his village, sitting down. He greeted him with warm expressions, listening to harmless gossip about the village affairs.
“If I were stronger than you,” his friend, Thomas, said in a hearty, enlightened voice, “I’d be fighting monsters like Kai.”
“Kai, the strongest man in the world, does what he does.” David’s voice was quiet but matter-of-factly. “It’s his world, and we live in it… I wish to meet him one day.”
Thomas misinterpreted David’s words. “You will?” He sounded surprised.
David went along with Thomas’ misunderstanding. “Oh! I don’t know… Most likely.” He sounded confident despite his gloomy demeanor.
David remembered something, looking curious. He stood up thoughtfully, and his voice was unhurried. He gave Thomas a full expression of his friendship. “I need to go. Thanks again, Thomas.” 
When David had been speaking, David’s friend got an idea he yearned to share, causing him to nod quickly to speed up David’s speech. When David had finished, he gave David a friendly, teasing smirk and said “Don’t let me down,” which was his idea.
When David left, he became overwhelmed with tender emotions, causing him to stop, squat down, and touch the ground affectionately as if to calm the earth. He thought about his full life, especially concerning the many people and situations he had encountered, and collected an urge to improve himself further and reach his goals. 
David returned to Thomas and invited him on a journey, telling Thomas about his past experiences, causing Thomas to agree reluctantly. He projected his empathetic, feisty, ambition-driven emotions onto Thomas and thought that Thomas was upset and could use some help by journeying with him. Their journey led them to the Auburn forests.
In the magical Auburn forests, hunters used traditional methods to capture a variety of animals for cultural, dietary and commercial purposes. Birds such as java sparrows, chestnut munias, zebra doves and hanging parrots were often trapped in sticky sap on trees, despite their fragility. Similarly, warty pigs, brown deer, sailfin and monitor lizards, and palm civets fell into wooden traps in open areas. These hunters, armed with spears and magic in metal telekinesis, targeted a range of animals including the tarsier, the eagle, and the flying lemur. Toward these elusive animals, their method of attack was to magically guide the flight of their spears.. However, they left the long-tailed macaque, a monkey, to roam freely.
The hunters held a belief that the macaques had a sacred connection to their ancestors, which was why they protected them from any harm, despite the macaques’ tendency to raid crops. Moreover, they avoided hunting certain animals such as cobras, pythons, forest owls and hornbills as it would supposedly bring bad luck. In contrast, a pregnant woman in another, nearby village named Sigurd used dried macaque tails and placentas suspended in coconut oil to speed up her delivery, connecting this practice to the macaques’ fast pregnancy and birth deliveries.
The hunters displayed intelligence and skill by synchronizing their hunting activities with plant phenology; for example, they hunted warty pigs when cinnamomum and oak trees were in flower and fruit, as the pigs fed on these trees.
At the edge of the Auburn forests, in the dry season, David and Thomas, two goblin individuals, hoped to hire a local guide as they set off to explore, which was home to a thriving pond.
“How old are these forests?” Thomas sounded dazzled, as he saw the back of a macaque disappear in the distance.
“Millions of years, depending on whom you ask.”
“I wager that hundreds of people think that already, but you… What do you think?”
“Seven, eight years of the gods creating it.”
“That’s interesting. Do you think it has people living under it? Like an underground civilization?”
“Most likely.”
A young goblin scampered out of a bush nearby, holding a gored macaque. “Please help my little village!” 
“Why help?” Despite his callous words, David sounded friendly and worried.
The young goblin sounded confused yet resolute. “You want gold?”
David shook his head in disagreement. “I mean: ‘How can we help? And what’s going on?’”
“The village is destroyed, and my brothers, my family, and the village are running. The monsters! They killed my pet!” The young goblin suppressed his impatience.
“What monsters? What were their entire look up and down?”
“Really? The monsters are bright blue, and their heads are shaped like scythes.”
David’s normal tone contrasted the goblin’s high-pitched voice. “Really? I know these monsters. Thomas.” David nodded to Thomas, who nodded back. David turned toward the young goblin. “We’ll be following you then.”
In the distance, barely out of sight, in a cloudless sky, smelling of chicken feathers, hundreds of magical flying foxes hurriedly carried bricks to the top of a gigantic, concrete tower with blue, grainy stains all over it. Hundreds of goblins, smelling of sweat and mud, passed bricks to one another as they aggressively pleaded for food. A hundred tall treants flogged them mindfully, patiently wishing they could stay at home. A giant, empty throne stood in the midst of these creatures, tiredly blocking the path of many goblins. Beside the throne, some remnants of a village could still be found, as the rest of the remnants lay underneath the throne.
Nearby, along with the young goblin, David and Thomas watched in surprise, only finding out now about the construction. They knew about the tower, but the tower was untouched for many years, leaving them and many others to consider it as a bastion of the weighty past. They wanted to stop it and scan their surroundings for the young goblin’s family and fellow villagers.
They planned around disrupting the construction project and intimidating the creatures to scatter first. Their plan was to pretend to be one of the young goblin’s fellow villagers whose village was destroyed and protest against the construction. They thought it was most likely ineffective, but they were willing to try it.
They settled down somewhere hidden, built a small hut, crafted buckets to get a supply water from a nearby pond, and slept with ambitious expressions. 
In the middle of the night, the hairs of David’s leg ran against Thomas’ leg, causing Thomas to wake up and retract his legs in hysteria. The feel of the hair of David’s legs reminded Thomas of a small animal. David, standing up, intently reaching for his pouch, apologized and forced a smile in shame. He grabbed his pouch. 
“I thought it was a…” Thomas adjusted himself and closed his eyes.
A group of goblins hesitantly strolled out of the trees and waved at David. They heard about David and Thomas from the young goblin.
David shook Thomas, who had woken up, causing him to stand up. He gestured Thomas to get his weapon secretly in case the goblins attacked. He himself habitually tapped his waist pouch that contained throwing knives for escaping.
When the goblins went closer, David and Thomas noticed their depressed expressions, which contradicted their leisure gait.
David and Thomas misinterpreted their depressed expressions as a crafty impression hiding a surprise attack.
The goblins optimistically grew closer as David and Thomas hardened their grasp on their weapons.
When the goblins were less than 10 steps away, David and Thomas procedurally backed away, maintaining the gap.
David and Thomas saved their voices for later, following the rule that stated that the enemy party had to speak first.
The goblins stopped, and their eyes turned toward a nearing monster, whose skin featured spotted motifs and head was shaped like a scythe. They screamed, fleeing away, confusing David and Thomas.
David and Thomas scanned their surroundings for the young goblin, as they nodded at one another in decisiveness. They ran and climbed a tree, taking out bows to shoot at the monster from a safe distance. They took out banana leaves and attached it to their bodies with ropes, causing them to be camouflaged.
The monster threw a boulder at them anyway, making their safeguarding useless.
David and Thomas fell out of the tree and fell unconscious.
Determined to rule the world through understanding, the monster captured David and Thomas and brought them to a distant location, where they awoke in fear. The cage they were trapped in was a work of art, crafted with purple and yellow plating and intricate cursive etchings. The monster’s need for both artistic expression and understanding of other beings was evident in the cage, despite the fact that it disrupted the lives and rhythms of those trapped inside.
David and Thomas backed away from the human jaw of the monster seated beside their cage in fear. The monster was speaking in a different language, monologuing about his life and struggles, wishing to understand and break through his limitations.
Trying to calm himself down after capturing David and Thomas, the monster laughed hopelessly. When he finished, he looked fine and pleasant. “I am pessimistic about humanity and pessimistic about humans. Because we have been through the Revolution, we have become very alert. I am very alert, alert like a peacock. Be careful, because humans are the most horrible animals, otherwise a brother of mine wouldn’t have died … I saw people eat people, and people hurt people, just like nowadays. Nowadays people can hurt you anytime, yet they don’t even know why they hurt you.” David and Thomas still lacked understanding of his language.
The monster let out a bitter laugh as he scorned himself for his attempts at achieving his goals. His expression looked resentful and solemnly compassionate for a split-second.
Resolutely, the monster opened David and Thomas’ cages and grabbed them. He strided across multiple corridors and placed them in a long line of challengers leading to the grounds of an fight-to-the-death arena. These challengers’ smells and clothing sense were comically repulsive, making it even more difficult for David and Thomas to comprehend their chaotic situation.
The monster stared at them and casted a spell, causing David and Thomas to understand his language. “Why don’t you guys go ahead? It’s fun!” His demeanor was aggresively nice.
David and Thomas’ faces fell. Their hearts raced; they yearned to get out. 
The monster walked away, hungry for food.
David closed his eyes and cast a magic spell, causing his body to break apart and his mind to become stimulated and delusional. Yet, he was still alive. A wave of intense happiness filled him, making him laugh. He gained an extreme sensitivity to touch, sound, and sight, making him wince and want to cover his eyes. Everything he touched felt all the more visceral to him like every inch of his body was screaming. His ears heard the sounds as if they were as loud as a scream and inside his head, making his shake his head to relieve the pain. His eyes hurt when he look at the darkest things, seeing them as bright flashes of light, feeling a searing pain. Along with his intense happiness, he felt an irrational anger take over him, shivering. Sporadically, he would scan his surroundings, believing that it was alive and it was trying to end him, murmuring. The magic spell ended, removing its euphoria and all the its other symptoms.
The challengers retreated, expecting David to attack.
The parts of his body recombined in a different fashion, making him into a golem. His golem form was much more bigger and stronger than his goblin form; however, he doubted that he could win against the monster and the challengers.
One of them, an ice mage, manically cast a spell that summoned an ice arrow larger than David’s golem body, hoping to stop David from attacking. They danced and waved their hand, causing the ice arrow to fly. It struck David through the chest, which made him stop moving and allow the next round of shots not to miss.
The monster stopped walking in surprise. “Is that your get-out-of-jail move?” He raised his arm as if to hit David.
The ice mage tediously summoned seven arrows smaller than the last, causing them to strike David through the head.
David fell to the ground, returning to his goblin form.
The monster rubbed his chin, stunned by David’s golem form and the fact that he was still alive. He looked at the challengers and waved at them gratefully, wondering what to do with David and Thomas.
The next morning, David and Thomas woke up, their bodies tied to a post flying thousands of meters in the air. They screamed insatiably, their hearts dropping. 
The monster faked a yawn habitually, staring at David and Thomas, wondering if torturing them would make them stronger. He raised his hand and lowered it, causing the flying post to fall hundreds of meters along with David and Thomas. He balled his hands into a fist, making the post stop midair and stay there.
David and Thomas cried, pleading to return home.
The monster sighed in disappointment.
Yet, the monster sounded hopeful, sipping fom a jar of taro milk. “You meet something beyond your power, and you’re finished. Well, that’s what I learned to accept when I was younger. I learned I needed power to change things, to save my dead brother, but to save, I must get rid of certain things that are wrong. You can do it, goblins. Change for me. Change.”
David changed, causing his bones to split from his muscles. His mind was still intact despite his screaming. He became a human with red lines around his neck.
Thomas became a tall treant with hands larger than his legs, letting out screams of anger.
However, David and Thomas’ bodies rapidly changed between their goblin forms and their new forms, lacking a spell to bind them to their new forms.
The monster loved the transformations of David and Thomas, trembling excitedly. He raised his hand as if to grab them. He balled his hands into a fist as if grabbing them, causing David and Thomas to change into their new forms permanently.
He raised and lowered his hands, causing them to fall and land on the ground harmlessly. He was glad, putting down his jar of taro milk and twisting his body to stretch. “I can’t thank you enough for willing to go through this process with me.”
David and Thomas raised their brows and scanned their bodies and their surroundings with curiosity and wonder. 
“Who are you?” Thomas’ voice was hoarse yet friendly.
The monster rubbed his chin and raised his brows in mild surprise, reciprocating the warm tone. “Whatever you’re saying, please don’t worry.”
David’s demeanor and hoarse voice was humble and honest. He shook his head and rubbed his head in distress. “Sorry, I can’t understand.”
David’s eyes lacked a sense of identity and the determination thereof, causing the monster to frown despondently.
However, life remained in Thomas’ eyes, endowing his movements with a mix of vigorous determination and fear.
The monster wanted to monologue for hours about his life, but he sent David and Thomas away and went to sleep instead.
A Black-Blue Dragon Arrives Escorted by Dogs and Is Set Free January 31, 2023
A young man described the situation in front of him. A tall, black, blue dragon appeared in the distance. Hundreds of dogs accompanied him, and he was free to go.
Sick and Injured John Finds Brief Peace in a Breeze and Daydreams About Questing January 31, 2023
A young man, John, woke up, and his arm ached. He touched his arm and discovered that it was broken. He frowned, desiring after a better, stronger arm that never got broken. This desire was borne out of his headaches and dizziness, as he was sick. His clothes were sweaty. He stood up frustratedly because of the stickiness of the sweat touching his body. 
A breeze of cold air met his face, making him feel relieved. With a happy twinkle in his eyes, he thought that despite his aching, broken arm and sickness, he could still find a source of peace in the wind.
John was born in a large city where the houses touched one another and the sky was the only thing lightening up the crevaces of the streets. It was a dangerous, lawless place where many died everyday. Children were kidnapped everyday to join gangs, and these gangs contributed to wars that took hundreds of lives everyday. Women were treated very unfairly especially because of their significance as conceivers of sons and daughters that could add political and fighting muscle to the gangs.
He was among the lucky ones who were born with magical powers that allowed them to move blocks of heavy rocks with their mind and create homes. While powerful, these lucky ones became victim to the control of their districts and turned into slaves for power.
Many purported that a host of gods created these magical powers and gifted them to people at birth, and he was fine with this idea. 
His sickness and broken arm was because he overused his power a few days ago.
He scanned his large room to distract himself from the ache of his head. He returned his gaze toward a window, whence the breeze of cold air had flown to touch his face.
“Where do I get more of this breeze?” Because of the relief he got from it, he connected this breeze to opportunities that he wished he had. 
One of his wishes was to get married, buy a plot of land, and start a big family. It sounded like a stupid wish, but he enjoyed the imagination of seeing hundreds of his tiny, little children go out into the world.
He struck a door open and exited onto a balustrade. Dancing on the balustrade, he gushed at the thought of starting a quest.
Quests were a common part of this city to cull monsters that invaded, from outside the city, the resource depots of the city for food.
A Boy Joins Woodcutters, Forgets His Money, and Scratches His Back on a Log January 31, 2023
In a forest where hundreds of woodcutters felled trees and dragged them back to their home city, a male teenager was rubbing his head frustatedly. He was mad that he forgot to bring a pouch of gold. 
Earlier, he joined the woodcutters here to pay a wandering fairy to make it his pet.
To relieve his stress, he rubbed his back against a log up and down, hoping to rid himself of his itch. “That’s perfect. If this continued forever, maybe I’d be fine.”
Boy John Releases a Fish Out of Guilt Then Flees a Forest Ogre January 31, 2023
A boy, John, sat beside a pond, twirling his fingers excitedly. 
The earthy smell of the pond embraced him. The harsh wind pushed against him. The hurried rustling of the trees dropped a mess of leaves around him.
With a splash, a small fish jumped from the pond, and he caught it, unexpectedly dropping it into his pouch. 
When the fish struggled to breathe, he gently placed it back into the water with a guilty look on his face. His heart ached at the sight of the suffering fish. Yet, his hands wistfully grasped the air, as he hoped to have a pet fish. 
As he walked away, he frowned, imaging himself playfully dancing alongside a pet fish. 
A forest ogre appeared in the distance, trudging in the shadow of the trees around him. It moved toward the boy with an expression of rage, scaring the boy and making him jump in fright.
Running away, the boy imaged the ogre defeating him and wildly letting everyone know that he was weak. A heat of anger flashed through his body at the thought of everyone calling him weak.
While pleading to escape, he almost tripped, making his eyes become wet, as he ran against the wind. 
John Wakes in a Flying Room, Studies a Passing Whale, and Gets Thrown Groundward by a Sentient Breeze January 31, 2023
Hoping to get to school early, a young man, John, woke up fast, but his arm ached after he banged it against his bed’s frame. He frustratedly got himself off his bed. With a fierce look, his eyes wandered outside a window, outside which a large animal moved. He curiously walked beside his window to his door. With a gulp, he opened the door, seeing the flying whale outside his window. His room was flying in the sky above the clouds. He opened his mouth in shock and imagined himself falling off, scurrying backward in fright. He wondered where he was and why he was here as the beauty of the whale mesmerized him. The whale’s arms flapped like an eagle’s, but it was slow and steady, reminding him of a stoic older man. The whale’s scale made him imagine a large building bereft of weakness and vulnerability. The whale’s skin markings disgusted him, making him wince. His chest moved up and down, as he collected his thoughts. “Why am I here?” he whispered, his heart aching at thought of death.
While John’s mind raced and his thoughts multiplied to find answers, a breeze blew past the objects of his room. It had a soul. It could only see several inches in front of itself, and it was looking for John. It couldn’t find him. The orders it received from a mage were to find him, remove him from the room, and make sure he was back on land. But he was too slow and too blind.
Ignorant of the breeze with a soul, John scanned his room and made sure that the items in the room were still his and not placed in some weird place. His heart raced at the thought of his room being alien. He saw his strong basket that a tribal group had crafted when he was young. As he turned his head, his nostrils grew at the smell of lavender scents from the remains of incence sticks. When he guaranteed that the room still looked the way he left it before he slept last night, he sat down on the ground with a disgrunted expression, reasoning that he was here and alive for a reason that he still didn’t know what.
When the whale had flown along and disappeared, he calmed down and saw that the house was floating downward. He saw the ground below, but it was still far away. 
Seeing nothing was happening, he rested against the wall and placed his hand against his chest to calm himself down. He couldn’t fall asleep, but he also didn’t want to sleep. He was still worried about the whale coming back and making his flying room fall. He still didn’t know why his room was so high up. He was never going to get answers, which made him want to close his eyes; however, the rocking of the house as it floated made him want to puke.
A few hours later, when his lips became chapped, he tiredly looked up. “How could I be so blind?” He stood up, squinting at the picture frame. In the old picture, he and his family of three stood in front of the bridge he passed through everyday to school. However, he was streaked with ominous black ink in the picture, making him scratch his head in dread. This one frightening detail made him conclude that this room, along with the flying whale, was beyond his comprehension. 
Despite his hyperventilating earlier, he hid his fear and pretended he was dead to escape his situation, as he believed that if he was seen alive, ghosts and monsters would appear out of the blue and kill him.
To calm himself, he looked through his childhood memories; however, instead of calm, he found a hint of anger that only grew overtime. This anger spoke of defying his supernatural situation and becoming unstoppable.
He picked up the objects in his room and crafted a weapon, using his chest, arm, and teeth in the process. Despite his discomfort, his anger urged him to continue crafting more weapons in case of danger. He created a rope out of pages; however, he frowned at the realization that it was too weak to carry him. He turned his head from side to side, looking for ideas. 
While he thought, he stared at a cloud in the distance, making him get an intrusive thought that told him to jump off. He breathed out and cursed this thought, ordering it to leave him.
During his vigorous self-talk, the breeze with a soul located him. It pulled him from his room and outside the window. Outside, it paused, turning him around and stretching his limbs. When it felt sure, it tossed him into the air toward the ground.
Man Falls Out of Bed and Catches Himself January 31, 2023
A young man woke up and reached out to his bedside, falling off. He quickly supported himself and grabbed his bed, pulling himself back. His heart raced at the thought of hitting his head while lying down. Since he had hit his head on a table in the past, he was careful.
John Checks His Forest Hut Then Steps Outside to Face an Approaching Treant Assassin February 2, 2023
Inside a furnished hut, where the sounds of cicadas beated in the distance and the noise of birds continued to serenade him, a young man, John, got up, turning to his left. The smell of dead animals outside pressed against his nostrils, making him sniff it up. Sniffing it up irritated the insides of his nose, which made him cough and rub his nose. However, he retracted his hands, telling himself to stop rubbing his nose to prevent it from becoming itchy. He abhorred an itchy nose, as he found it painfully unbearable. 
The sound of cicadas reminded him of the morning, which encouraged him to go outside. He walked fast toward the door leading to the outside. To make sure he didn’t forget anything, he stopped walking and scanned the inside of his hut, turning his head. Turning his head made him feel its weight, as he was still somewhat sleepy.
Elsewhere, a tall figure trudged toward the hut with a glare. It imaged John’s body turning into bits; it was powerful enough to climb uphill and here. It hid a blade inside itself, which gave him a chance to win against John, who it knew as “Dogman.”
The inside of his hut was large enough to take up fifty of himself. Muddied and crafted, a basket and tiny wooden carvings sat at the corner inside. These wooden creations’ muddied smells soothed John, making him stretch his arms in delight. At another corner, an etching depicting a bearded man hung on the wall inside. It reminded John of the sound of etching, which made him close his eyes in meditation. The bearded man in the etching was his late, beloved father. At the third and fourth corner, a sleeping mat on the ground spread from one side of the wall to the other inside. It delivered the smell of dust to him, irritating his nose, which made him sneeze. To protect himself, he grabbed a sword on the ground, which reminded him of the feeling of a pumped-up set of forearms and back. This reminder made him smirk in self-directed jest and nostalgia. This mocking jest was about his small and frail body in the far-gone past. The nostalgia was about a recent memory of him happily working out and building alongside a cave community of villagers.
After he was done checking the inside of his hut, John went outside in the forest, passing by a tall plant. Since he was tall, he bent his head to avoid hitting the taller plant. 
The tall figure neared the edge of a clearing where it heard John’s voice: “What should I do today?” It sped up its walk, its tight-lipped expression growing with certainty. It was certain it would kill John today and return to a life of organizing communities, the economy, and taking care of children. Its life was one of a leader who cared about his people, but it was not without fault, as it thought of violent methods to kill John. These violent methods encapsulated the determination that led it here to John’s place. He was this close to finishing this one small quest called “John’s death.” 
“This quest’s extreme rewards made me do this” was what it told itself.
Outside John’s home, the smell of dead animals grew stronger. This smell came from a pile of warty pig bodies nearby. Warty pigs tended to fight and breed in his territory, causing this amount of bodies to form every month or so. John always carried the sword to manage against their fighting and breeding.
John gave the forest a good look. 
This forest’s tropical trees blocked the sunlight, allowing him to feast his eyes on the overshadowed plants at their bottom.
While feasting his eyes, he noticed the tall figure emerging from the plants. When it revealed itself, the tall creature raised its arm defiantly. A treant, it had leaves marking its bark in engaging patterns. Slouching, it had a tired expression and a weight to its walk. It looked about to fall apart, but it stood strong and showed determination through its gaze. Flowers scattered along the steep slopes of its bark present a serene picture of colorful petals fluttering and the occasional flowers falling. A banner stuck to the top of its head depicting the symbol of healing, which depicted a lady’s hand catching a falling petal.
Alert of an attack from this treant’s determination, John backed away and raised his sword aggressively. Raising his sword made him feel the weight of his arms, which made him feel ready and resolute. He closed his eyes one final time before his fight with the treant, which made him think of his late father who emboldened him more to fight.
A Pack of Dogs Cooperatively Mauls a Goblin Using Coins and Magic February 2, 2023
In the middle of a forest, hundreds of domestic dogs ran about and fiercely surrounded a goblin, intentionally bumping onto one another to get a close look. When the goblin let out a fear-riddled scream, they pounced one after another at the goblin, visiously biting whatever they could reach. Yet, if they accidentally bit a fellow dog, they made their bite harmless. Amid their contesting and scrambling, they barked at one another, trying to get the most of the goblin’s rough flesh. Some of them bit this rough flesh strongly enough to reflect magical powers at play.
When the occasional fighting broke out among them, they showed cooperation by resolving it through their pack leader, who led them through an economic exchange with coins, a distinct adaptive behavior as demonstrated in other magically engineered animals. They conveyed their votes in these exchanges through the use of voluntary sneezes. Earlier, some of them used magic in their biting. However, the trait of utilizing magic was maladaptive, as it was apparent that cognitive dysfunction appeared in those having the ability of using magic.
The pungeant smell of the goblin’s fresh blood poured down a partially hidden crevace, sliding into a large cave accessible via hundreds of other crevaces.
A Man Jumps Off a Bridge, Revives in a Fantasy World, Meets Elves, and Resolves to Start Over February 3, 2023
A young man was standing atop a bridge, and he was going to jump. His mind was spinning and turning. He said: “Why am I here? This is a waste of time.”
He slipped and fell.
He revived in another world where his body was sticky and wet. Some saliva all over him.
A giant monster was licking him all over.
The young man screamed. “Hey, hey! That’s my sweet body you’re touching.” He touched the sides of his stomach and pinched it to form clumps. “Truly, if you knew about my skin condition.”
The giant monster was cute and friendly-looking, giving him some reprieve.
The young man frowned. “I can’t believe I have to deal with this. This is a result of me taking too much of that Sumerian clay tablet the other day.” His head was dizzy, making him talk robotically. He stood up, bending his knees somewhat. He was a little heavy and chubby, but he could walk just fine.
He tripped. “Argh! Gosher danger!” His curse phrase was somewhat strange, but it did just fine as a euphemism. “I can’t believe I forgot to wear my shoes before going on a drug trip!” He stepped on a sharp part of a root. “Youch! This really ain’t my bedroom!”
He tripped on another root, fell, and and hit his head.
The monster quickly picked him up and dashed off.
The young man known as Johnman found his arms flailing in the wind, his mouth drooling as his head grew dizzier.
The monster arrived at a camp of bandits where three young gentlemen walked up with curious expressions. Their gaits were professional and somewhat pompous.
Johnman woke up to find them poking him with their cane swords. “Whah!” His voice sounded like a small girl.
The three young gentlemen cowered at the ear-piercing scream. “What’s you?” said one of them, fumbling his words because of his nervousness. 
Johnman forced a smile, his head upside-down as he lay on the monster’s back. “What?”
“You look like a human.”
Johnman frowned. “I am a human. I’ve never seen humans in my drug trip, but I guess this is real.” His voice grew nervous as he pondered about his situation. “This is real.”
Feeling humorous at his absurd situation, he broke into manic laughter.
The young gentlemen covered their elongated ears and mouths in awkward surprise.
Johnman took deep breaths to relieve his stress, as the racing of his heart grew faster. “Hi, why am I here?” Along with his deep voice, his speech sounded somewhat threatening because of the laughter before it.
The young gentlemen lowered their hands in confused greeting, showing their mouths and ears. “Yes?” said the young gentleman who had spoken earlier. “Uh, we don’t know.”
“You came here though,” said another of the young gentlemen. “He came here though. The monster did indeed answer “yes” as in a nod to my question about where you came from. I asked, ‘Did he come from somewhere else?’” He sounded hurried and somewhat unsure of himself.
Johnman frowned. “I might be here because I got put here.” He chuckled with an exhausted, hopeless stare. “Might I ask about the ears? I’m human you said? Are… you not humans?”
“We sure are elves,” said the first gentleman matter-of-factly, “as humans are completely different from us in both shape and form. Humans tend to be shorter, weaker and frailer than us.” He sounded like he was reading from a historical manuscript.
Johnman closed his eyes in unsurprised disappointment. “Uh, I see. This is a fantasy world, and you guys are absolutely amazing groups of people!” He said it with a hint of sarcastic indignation, but a part of him wanted them to believe his words.
The young gentleman who had been speaking since Johnman’s arrival played and fidgeted with his fingers mindfully. “If you say so.” His tone was vague, having the impression of both disinterest and callousness.
Johnman dismissively nodded while the young gentleman was still speaking; however, he only looked dismissive because he was in deep ponderance about his situation. Despite his racing heart and growing frustration, he was in self-control, inconspicuously closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to calm down.
The three young gentlemen sat down on an outside table after they mentioned the issue of humans in their territory. Their hurried, nervous voices made Johnman want to escape their observation. With encouraging smiles, they requested Johnman to stay while they talk among themselves to decide what to do with this situation.
Johnman wanted to leave, showing some of his nervousness through his quickly shifting legs. As he had a heavy body, it was diffucult for him to stand for too long without breaking a sweat. His sweat was a mix of both his fear and exhaustion. 
He was under the gaze of the young gentlemen and even the giant monster. 
He was worried they’d cut him off if he asked about what their end goal was for him. 
He pinched and pressed his fingers and hands against one another as a way to cope with his frustration. 
A hint of hate flashed through his eyes as he thought about his dangerous situation. 
To keep his emotions unrevealed, he pretended only to study the trees elsewhere and rubbed his hand in a way that gave the impression of deep thought instead of stress and frustration. 
He was a calculative man, but his frustration could get in the way. 
He had to control his demeanor, the outward part of him, instead of his emotions, as suppressing his emotions would only lead to outbursts of rage or depression. 
He had everything figured out, as his past gave him ample experience with confrontations and belligerent people to make up for the trials and tribulations of his new world situation.
The three young gentleman chuckled, making a joke about the weather. Their tones reminded Johnman of his late father, making him believe that they had good intentions and only mentioned the issue of humans in their territory to pretend they cared about it.
Johnman was too tied up in his emotions, which made him make a split-second decision to leave.
The giant monster watched him leave, wondering whether Johnman disliked it or liked it enough not to say goodbye because he was coming back.
Johnman stepped away, escaping from the attention of the young gentlemen without so much as a word. It was the perfect escape he believed, and it was, as the three gentlemen truly did not care about him and the humans. This lack of care could be attributed to their laid-back civil nature, which left everything to the upper echelons or the brass to deal with humans.
Johnman reached a small pond where hundreds of fish swam. His mind was caught up in many things, and he needed to destress by observing the small fish. He could care less about the fish and only used them as a distraction. He believed he was just like the three young gentlemen who had been staring at him. This belief perfected the rationale behind his decision to leave, even after all its desperately added flavor such as the thought of “I need to take a shower in private, so I leave, okay?”
He dipped his feet in the pond and winced; however, his disgust disappeared overtime. He soon bathed in the pond, wondering why a pond like this has so much water. He thought ponds were tiny little puddles; he realized that the word “puddles” referred to puddles and the word “pond” probably referred to something either bigger or smaller than a puddle. These useless thoughts allowed him to digest his situation more thoroughly without leaving a spot. He was utterly devastated for a moment when he learned he could not return home; however, this dejectedness disappeared when he remembered that a new world meant new opportunities. 
He stood outside of the pond, resting his hands on his hips with an ambitious grin. He was ready to face anything, he said. “I just needed to take a bath everyday to relieve my stress,” he said, “and I’m good.”
A tall troll stared at him a mountain. His vision pierced through trees, rock, and mist; he was a guardian of the mountain cave known as Astula. “Lame.” He uncrossed his legs and stood up from a bench, strolling with tiny strides like an older man. He sat down on another bench shaped differently than the first one. “I need a break.” He raised his arms, and a skeleton formed from the earth as fast as a second and leapt. 
“Mud skeleton!” the skeleton squealed.
Two more skeletons appeared and joined him in squealing “Mud skeleton!” It sounded cute, but the troll didn’t bother to stare at them, only leaning back.
Johnman’s first goal was to visit a village, and he did.
The village contained facilities such as a blacksmith shop, mage gardener’s garden, and a tall tower where mages are trained.
He visited the blacksmith shop, as he was prepared to arm himself with weapons. However, since he was new to this world, he didn’t have money. Language came instinctively, but money was nowhere to be found.
He had two options for a job: a blacksmith’s apprentice or a janitor at the tall tower.
He complained about there being only two options; however, he showed resolution when he chose to be a blacksmith’s apprentice.
Johnman was tired of waiting inside a room where hundreds of other men and women spoke to one another about the events of a war. He ignored them, thinking mostly about calming his nerves. If he failed this job application, he would starve and lose everything. He got up at the same time as the hundreds of people waiting alongside him.
A humanoid with bark for skin exited a room at the end of the corridor. He called Johnman’s name. “Johnman, you will be the blacksmith’s apprentice. Tests showed that you’re better than everyone else here.”
Johnman rubbed his forehead. “Huh?”
The humanoid prompted Johnman with a nod to follow him.
Johnman pushed himself through the crowd of hundreds of angry, frustrated, and disappointed men and women. He pointed his eyes forward defiantly, as he was tired of having to deal with attention from people.
The humanoid brought him to a room where two children played with one another.
Johnman greeted the humanoid and the two children with a smile, hints of confusion flavoring his eyes and smile.
He paused and pondered as the children played and the humanoid sat down. “What is it that is going to happen?”
“You will be directed to a quarry where hundreds of workers are tirelessly grinding stone. They will place you against a wall where you will disappear. You will reappear in a small room where the smithing takes place. I know it sounds complicated, but bear with me.” The humanoid kept a forced smile all throughout.
Johnman was worried about it, but he found it impossible to ask about it. “Okay.” His voice carried clear confusion.
“Okay, stand up. We’re leaving. You too, Park and Hu.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Are you sure you should be saying that?” Johnman found the word “Daddy” hilarious because it reminded him of another meaning of it, which was “older male 
Earth-Born Boy Sigurd Grows Into a Village Worker and Receives an Unexpected Leveling Notification February 4, 2023
In a small forested village, the soothing melodies of birds echoed up to the tippy top of the thatched roofs of houses down to the pungent pits where dead animals lay. Smoke-like scents enchanted the place, slipping through the walls and enforcing a choking sensation. The rough taste of food enjoyed by villagers crafted a unique atmosphere that could only be described as enduring.
In the middle of the village, a small boy got up from under the earth. His voice was quiet, and his mind was settled. “Does anyone hear me?” he said. He was naked and malnourished. From his palm face and thin arms to the bones poked under his skin, everything about him screamed that he was a lost boy. Yet, the boy arrested his fearful emotions and stood strong. He was a magical boy, as he came from the earth.
In response to the boy’s appearance, the villagers turned heads, stood up, greeted the boy and provided it with food and shelter. They showed him smiles, what it was like to be under the sun in the rain, and everything about books and more. They gave him a foretaste of what it was like to be an adventurer, showering him with tools and accessories until the boy looked right for a quest.
The boy expressed his happiness time and time again, thanking the villagers with a wonderful smile. He learned how to exchange coins and turned himself into a worker, reaping coins and paying the villagers who had saved him. To travelers, he looked like a slave, but he leapt and skipped joyfully, loving his new life.
With the help of a basket-maker, he crafted buckets that allowed him to put goods inside and travel with them. He carried heavy weights, becoming stronger overtime. His boney appearance showed muscles, and his smile became sharper as proof of his growing confidence. He worked hard to grow his monetary worth until he had livestock and other valuables.
He grew up to become a husband of a woman he thought was nice and grew to love more and more overtime. His wife was flavorful, always teaching him about life outside of the village, making him ever curious. He knew that he didn’t understand much, which allowed his wife to take over when handling foreign inquiries. His wife slowly taught him, deepening the bond they shared.
[Level 1! You have leveled up!]
The man named “Sigurd” stared at the words in his vision in shock. He asked the villagers and his wife about it, but they didn’t know. He sat down and went on his business, somewhat disgruntled about the words and the villagers not knowing. He wondered if he did anything wrong, making his working slow, which got him teased by an wife.
[You are level 1. This means plenty of goodies: 1 strength, 1 agility, 1 toughness. Are you liking what this means for you?]
Sigurd wondered where he came from. The words in his vision were related to his existence and appearance. However, he didn’t know that. He said “yes” to the words in his vision, causing it to disappear. He wanted to know what it meant for him, as his days became longer due to this new development in his life.
He understood math, which made him believe “1 strength” was the power of an adult human, “1 agility” was the agility of an adult human, and “1 toughness” was the quantified endurance of an adult human. However, his growing confusion showed, making his wife convince him into discussing about it with the villagers.
Many villagers agreed to listen to him, but only three villagers visited him regularly to listen to him. These three villagers were special, as they were adventurers who were frequently seen holding spellbooks. This holding of spellbooks made it an open secret that they were mages pretending to be villagers. Their names were Red, Daniel, and Blythe.
Red’s facial features made him seem rowdy, but he was quiet and only cared about taking care of plants as a hobby. He wore clothes that mimicked a pheonix. He wore leg coverings and a shawl; these items were usually worn in the region east from here. However, he made the leg coverings and the shawl a part of his chic look.
Daniel spent his life as a cowardly man, as he was broken time and time again due to chasing love from people who were not available. He wore clothes that made him look like a ninja, but he removed the mask often, making him less cool and more annoying. He was younger than the other two, making his impression fit the annoying little brat.
Blythe was the woman who had started the village. She was immortal, which made her somewhat prideful, albeit her pride was subdued. She wore her clothes fitted, made sure to have a side boob here and there, and wore a cape that draped on the ground to show she could wear just about anything and still fight well.
While Sigurd was greeting them and making small talk, Blythe mentioned a giant tower appearing in the horizon that invited a few bandit groups and monster colonies to take part. She explained that the tower was tall enough to be seen from here, and she pointed at the horizon, adding that you could reach there in a short time.
Sigurd looked disappointed. Since he was young, he avoided the bandits and anything of the violent sort all these years. He was happy being able to work hard in relaxing environments instead of having to deal with bloodied hands all the time. The only time his hands were bloody was when he was dealing with food. His frown alone showed great meaning.
Blythe, Daniel, and Red understood him, as they knew him for a long while. They met him while he was still a boy, but they took different paths in life, chasing after treasures and avoiding traps as adventurers. They hated to see Sigurd disappointed, but Blythe mentioned it as a way to add small talk, as Daniel and Red already knew about it.
Sigurd was growing discontented hearing them talk about bandits and adventurer. He studied Daniel’s expression and asked him, “Do you still take care of that pig of yours?”
Daniel’s response was hurried: “There could be dent in it I heard, but I’m not sure. It might be blessed, but I would need to check it again. So, yes, I do take care of it by checking it regularly.”
Sigurd’s disappointed face returned after a pregnant pause. He only asked because he wanted to hear less of the bandits, yet, he realized that Daniel had nothing good to say about his personal endeavors.
Blythe’s expression forced a smile, getting a glance from Sigurd. “Either way, it’s good to see that you’ll be joining us at the front.”
Sigurd raised his brows, squinting at Blythe’s carefully crafted expression. “You think I’ll be there at the front.”
“We have Daniel and Red too. It starts at 7 PM, and the adventurers are accompanying a rhino on the way there. He’s going to be our second guide because the first one died, remember? Your wife said you would go there to study the fight.”
Sigurd rubbed his chin. “I can see why you think that I should go. I’ve been reading books, and books are study material. But do you really think I’d go to watch a fight just because it’s good study material?”
Blythe looked surprsied. “I was thinking you could try it since you wife’s coming as well… That’s what I meant.”
Daniel finished talking to Red about a dog he used to have that got killed by monsters.
Sigurd 
A Prince Fails to Kill His First Goblin, Comforts a Dying Cat, and Accepts a Magic Teacher February 4, 2023
A young man raised his sword and aimed it at the king of the land. “I shall kill my first goblin, Father.”
“Sure, you can try,” the king, his father, said with a smirk.
The young man ran to the woods where he found a bleeding wild cat. A goblin-designed dagger was stuck on its side.
The wild cat ran at him, making him dizzy.
“I said I will beat my first goblin. Nothing will stop me.” He fainted.
He woke up some time later, and the wild cat was dying.
“No, don’t block me, please. I need to find my first goblin quickly.” He left the cat and ran past many trees, but it was getting late.
He returned to the wild cat. “Why do I care so much? Yet, I can’t do anything to save you.” Tears dripping down his cheek, he hugged the cat. The cat’s eyes flashed with admiration.
He returned home, his brows furrowed. He felt lonely.
“How are you?” said his brother.
“I failed, but I will try again. I-I will talk to Father.”
His brother smiled. “I really want you to know that there is a lady who watches.”
“No.”
“I have brought her here for you to admire.”
“That’s… not how I want to do this. I require evidence of ability before I take any responsibility.”
“Oh, imitating our father now, aren’t we?”
The young man became silent, stone-faced.
“I can help you, you know.”
“I don’t want help. I must learn how to handle myself.”
“I was merely testing you when I said you should try killing a goblin for the first time. You don’t need to do this on your own.”
“Stop. That’s not the point.”
He looked at the lady behind his brother. “Does she know magic?”
“Yeah, yeah, I made sure she could teach as well as give you some ‘experience.’”
“Sure then…”
“Okay, I’ll be leaving you two.”
“Right, can you wait here…?”
“Aliyah.”
His brother smiled with admiration.
Johnny Cures an Unbearable Nose Itch Then Gets Abducted by a Superhuman Woman Recruiting Him as a Soldier February 9, 2023
Inside a furnished hut, the sounds of cicadas beated in the distance, and the noise of birds continued to serenade Johnny.
Out of the blue, an excruciating itch appeared on his nose. He groaned until he screamed. He fell to the ground, striding down the steps. He hit his head on a tree branch and became dizzy.
He saw a potion in the distance. It glowed, but it was far away. He pushed himself. He found a stick to press against the ground and drag himself forward speedily. He fell to the ground, crying. The itch was too painful, making him wish he could disappear.
The next few seconds were a blur of flailing his limbs around.
When he reached the potion, he drank it. His itch disappeared. He returned to his hut.
The smell of flowers outside pressed against his nostrils, making him sniff it up. Sniffing it up irritated the insides of his nose, which made him cough and rub his nose. However, he retracted his hands, telling himself to stop rubbing his nose to prevent it from becoming itchy. He abhorred an itchy nose, as he found it painfully unbearable. 
The sound of cicadas reminded him of the morning, which encouraged him to go outside. He walked fast toward the door leading to the outside. To make sure he didn’t forget anything, he stopped walking and scanned the inside of his hut, turning his head. Turning his head made him feel its weight, as he was still somewhat sleepy and disgruntled after the itch.
A shadow crossed his hut. He went to the window to see a giant with a menacing look on his face. His heart raced as he realized he was alone, vulnerable. He took a step back, ready to run.
“Don’t move,” the giant growled, brandishing a blade. “Give me your gold.”
Johnny’s mind raced as he weighed his options. He could try to reason with him, or make a run for it. He reached for his magic wand, fingers shaking.
As he cast a spell, the giant lunged forward until his hands overshadowed Johnny. In that moment, Johnny realized he had nothing to lose. He acted on instinct, dodging to the side and delivering a swift kick to the giant’s cheek. The giant stumbled back, and Johnny took the opportunity to make a break for it.
He ran as fast as he could, heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t stop until he reached the safety of the nearby adventurer guild. Panting and shaken, he reported the incident to the adventurers on duty.
The next few hours were a blur of questions and statements. Johnny was grateful for the support of the adventurers, and relieved to have escaped unharmed. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been lucky. Next time, he might not be so fortunate.
The sun reached its peak, casting a tyrannical glow across the tropical forest. Johnny scuffed along in his slippers, occasionally feeling the dirt on the ground. He took a deep breath, inhaling the moist air. This was his moment of peace, his escape from the chaos of the city. He looked out at the animals, mesmerized by their orchestral nest building.
Striding forth, a young woman appeared to see him. When he was curious, she took on an elegant demeanor and proclaimed, “Let this man be a soldier!” 
While he stood there in confusion, she pushed onto him items that men would lick the ground to have: money, women, prestigious statues in honor of him, and the respect of seniors.
When he heard “soldier,” a picture of a distressing dense field of grass from when he was a younger man passed his mind.
The woman lunged to grapple him. 
The man screamed, as his body exploded with pain. The woman pressed against him, folding his skin under her intense pressure.
As conniving plans swirled in his mind, she threw him up, pulverizing his thoughts. He fell down with a horrified look when she caught and held him up perfectly only with her legs and feet. She let out a sigh of frustration at the sight of his distraught expression. She said, “Take this advantage swiftly or you will be suffering.”
With a defeated frown, the man obeyed her order, for the woman continued to hold a gaze with him with an evil glint in her eyes.
The woman carried softly him with both arms and left with him. Frowning, he was too tired to think and fast fell asleep. In his dreams, he wanted to escape from the monstrous woman.
When he awoke, his lips parted slowly, making him taste a drip of soup that was on his mouth. He reached out with his tongue and grabbed the drips, tasting it more. Its sharp smell made him sniff repeatedly. Its texture was smooth, and its peerless creamy taste made him swoon. It tasted magnificently, to his pleasure. He opened his eyes, studying the colors the drip assumed.
The woman was levitating in the air above him, eating from a bowl of soup. She was speaking gibberish. He was directly below the bowl, making him sit up and move away.
He got up from his mat on the ground and looked around. “Where is it that we’ve gone?”
Facing him, the woman smiled, finding her soup very delicious. 
“5 dogs, 7 cows, 3 chickens,” she babbled to his disappointment.
Seeing that she ignored him, the man scanned the forest around him and sighed in relief when he didn’t see anything strange. “We’re still traveling from what I can see.”
A Youngling, a Goblin, and a Human Form an Adventurer Party After Separately Outgrowing Their Old Lives February 20, 2023
A youngling, a goblin, and a human decided to join up and create an adventurer party. They incorporated tools and weapons into their operation, including a sword, a rifle, and a machine gun. These weapons were sourced from a chest in the adjacent eastern region. Much of the motivation behind the creation of the adventurer party sourced from their unique life experiences. 
The youngling lived a shallow life, only enjoying simple, tough bread and water; however, one day, he realized that his life was meaningless and wanted to make it meaningful through putting himself through peril and hardship in hopes of achieving great feats. The youngling wore a purple shirt that he got from a couple of bakers from whom he got his bread. These bakers taught him language until he received a rare eloquence for a youngling.
The goblin lived near a small pond and made friends with a fishman there. The fishman told him to live right, and soon, it became the goblin’s conviction to live right in the way that he knew—to fight strong monsters. He realized an adventurer group could allow him to fight strong monsters. The fishman gifted the goblin magic; however, this magic was still dormant.
The human lived a bountiful life, eating plenty of food and having plenty of concubines, but it didn’t satisfy him. He listened to poor, older men who spoke of adventurers beyond his manor. It soon became his conviction to become an adventurer. The older men made him eat a special kind of bread that empowered him with the ability of human flight.
The youngling, the goblin, and the human all met by chance, becoming close friends. They found one another at a bandit camp. The bandit contigent at the camp set up a test where anyone powerful enough to beat one of them could join. The three close friends passed this test.
The close friends fleed and separated from the bandits after an order of knights in a nearby kingdom vanquished the bandits at the camp.
The close friends found the sword, the rifle, and the machine gun in a chest out in an open field; they were confused about this chest’s origins, only making assumptions.
Rolif Fights Goblins Alongside Michael While Griping About Their Bizarre Mission February 25, 2023
Everyone deserves a second chance, including those who don’t really deserve it. I just cannot imagine a world where everyone is perfectly finely perfect that they deserve the world. It would come from how wonderful their style is, their flair is, their voice is, and everything that wouldn’t really constitute something that isn’t personal. Or maybe I’m wrong.
Michael shouldn’t have been the one wielding the blade. He shouldn’t have been fighting a monster twice his size. He shouldn’t even be alive, but why is he? Does he need to keep living dangerously to justify his existence somehow? Either way, he’s a conundrum, and I’m with him—under him actually—as a part of his group. 
If he still thinks I’m better than him, well, he’s right.
I will vanquish them—my enemies and that one guy who stole my clothes 5 times in a row. 
Patience, but everything with a style.
If only I could take off this greasy goblin’s head.
“Hey!” said my friend Michael. “Stop wasting time! Just go already!”
“Wait!” I said. “I just need to finish this thing!” I pulled the goblin’s ear off, and the blood that spilled from the ear burned my hands. Goblins’ blood was specially acidic.
“I can’t wait any more! It hurts, Rolif!” His voice was hoarse, but why wouldn’t it be? It’s been days since we arrived here, screaming profanities because we’re just that tired.
“I don’t know what you expect from me. I’m supposed to be usurping that bird right? But that thing is crazy stupidly weird. I hate to need to do something like that, so yeah, no!”
Sigurd’s Two Dog Fights and Apartment Escape February 26, 2023
“We’re fine, right?” Sigurd said to himself besides feeling his strong muscles, a faint passion flashed through the pinch of his cheeks and the gritting of his teeth.
The rumbling noise of trains passed around the corner of a street. Out of this corner, a young man, Sigurd, shuffled along by himself. His self-talk was brief in his mind, only showing the emotions hidden within that he saw as attractive. The wind danced up and down at the wave of his arms, providing him an escape from his nagging mind. His footsteps sounded like a knocking, resisting this mind with the feeling of the ground, which linked to being down-to-earth. His skin and his ears were engaged to this feeling and sound, offering an easy path to body rest. He declined this rest in favor of walking a little faster. He felt he was weak when he heard and saw the trains. He headed home, which was farther from the trains than the streets were. Returning to self-talk, he said he felt the weakness because the trains were big and the idea of touching them would make him feel small and thus terrified.
The soothing ambient lights of cars whizzing by were beautiful, making him forget the “small” thoughts. The magical salty and crispy taste of biscuits on his hand added to this forgetting, enabling him to embrace the peace and quiet of his solitude. He mindlessly rubbed his hand against a light post, feeling its rusty, orange-brown metal. He remembered the smell and flavor of rusty metal from a lick from his childhood. He wondered what he was thinking about earlier.
A putrid smell of odors containing the sewer, mud, and rainwater in the streets made him move fast. For a moment, he had a thought that a mistake in his steps would throw him through the ground into a world of fantastical pitch black. However, he disregarded this thought, making way for the putrid smell to regain focus.
A small chunk of his biscuit rudely tumbled to the concrete pavement. “Argh!” he exclaimed. His voice was small, which he called his “polite voice,” and much of this voice carried an attractiveness of clarity and confidence that contradicted the obscurity of being small. Seeing the seemingly polite way in which the chunk of biscuit lay on the ground prompted him to regather that he liked the polite voice.
He entered into a broader, lively street, joining the crowds of people marching about beside stores and restaurants aplenty. His handsome face caught an eye or two, but handsomeness was everywhere on the Internet. It was easy to ignore a handsome face in real life to save face while later ogling another face but on the Internet. The thousands of angles from which he peeked at the street’s, stores’, and restaurants’ and crowds’ faces as he marched made him feel alive. The large amount of angles immersed him in their broad liveliness.
He got curious stares from a group of teenagers who thought his outfit was dashing and hard to replicate. He found them uninteresting and continued on his way.
His exclaim of “Argh!” earlier was not given stares by the hundreds of other passersby beside and nearby. To Sigurd, they were only gazing openly at the street ahead. Any mannerism they displayed he promptly ignored to save up mental energy. He found it easier to focus on the front side of the palm of his hands than to observe the large number of people one by one. He remembered this kind of observing gave him a headache. The sequence of exclaiming in public and not getting stares was normal.
Sigurd shared the passersby’s indifference and struggled to blend into them because of his brightly colored clothes. He liked the purple of his t-shirt and the yellow of his drawstring shorts and memorized them. He called these two colors “lavender” and “mustard.” However, he was indifferent to the struggle of his crowd blending due to the display of these colors.
At the end of the street, Sigurd heard a faint, animalistic groaning coming from his left in an alleyway.  
Two large dogs, a terrier and a golden retriever, pushed a smaller young husky against a wall, making it bleed and whine. “Ow!” it barked.
Sigurd ran like the wind, catching the two larger dogs off guard with a kick. The two dogs blocked his punch with their jaws; however, they shook, weakened.
Sigurd retracted his leg, so the dogs bit his other leg, tormenting him with a series of sharp stabs to the nerves. He writhed around and yelped innocently in dread.
He fell to the ground and crawled away, pressing and kicking the dogs exasperatedly, as their jaws continued gripping his flesh.
The dogs bit him harder but released their jaws when Sigurd booted them on their torso.
Sigurd screamed in relief after the dogs sustained too much damage and fell unconscious.
The smaller dog ran and escaped.
Weak, Sigurd clumsily dialed 911 and called an ambulance for himself, lowering his stiffly raised shoulders.
His mind processed his situation when he was inside the ambulance. He was lucky in his fight because the dogs reacted too late to his attack and the incorporation of sidewalks helped him run and fight easier. He might not be so lucky next time. These thoughts repeated in his head even after he recovered and returned home.
A flash of ease alighted in his heart as if someone hit him on the back and told him to shut up. Getting hit on the back and being told to shut up were strange reasons to be at ease. However, the idea of suffering made him the most calm because he always expected it to happen. It was a trademark of his childhood where his purpose was to accept the worst beatings imaginable. He treated his parents like a living toy would treat a child eager to get used to playing with it even if it meant breaking it apart.
He was indeed powerless.
The calming melody of jazz echoed across his home. Sigurd excellently danced, feeling the soft carpet covering the floor with his toes. He excitedly played games with himself via cards, feeling the edges of the plastic cards. While drinking, he spilled water on his fingers and rubbed them together mindlessly. 
The numbing drone of the air conditioner of his room made him sleepy.
His sleepiness annoyed him, making him abruptly stand up and stretch to remove it.
The water that spilled on his fingers reached his clothes as well, making him feel lightheaded.
Drying himself, he removed his clothes, and the cold conditioned air rested on his body, making him shiver. 
The alien shadow of a dog passed over him, and he turned around to see an out-of-place dog at his door.
The dog barked angrily.
Sigurd covered his mouth in shock.
The dog charged and barked incessantly. 
Sigurd clumsily ran atop his bouncy bed as the dog stopped and scanned the objects of his room strangely.
Impossibly, the dog ran, grabbed a desk with its teeth, and dragged the desk to the bed, much to Sigurd’s horror.
Barking, the dog climbed up the desk to the bed as Sigurd jumped off the bed, shouting.
Sigurd ran to the door and firmly closed it, groaning in relief.
Intellectually, the dog climbed down the desk off the bed, walked to the door, and opened it.
Panicking, Sigurd screamed and slammed the door against it repeatedly.
The dog was robotically silent despite Sigurd’s haphazard abuse of it.
Sigurd closed the door, found a couple of person-sized vases to his left and right, and blocked the door with the vases, gauchely escaping.
When he left his home, he loudly sighed in relief.
His mind was running fast on glucose. The dog almost killed him, but he survived because of the vases and found a wonderful place to eat. Would he live again if he was given a third fight with a dog? How lucky was he? How strange was it for a dog to be that smart? These tense questions circulating his mind showed that he couldn’t understand his inhuman situation, yet it was good enough that he was breathing the air still. He smiled as the corners of his mouth lifted and relieved the tension in his eyes.
The dog was still out there, and he was bound to meet it again. To rid this thought, he strolled downhill along a narrow street where buildings marked by old colors and trash spread organically. The lulling walking sensation replaced his worrisome thought with a want for joyful dance. He would rid the dullness of these in-between moments with joy. Motivated, he realized that he liked dancing more than he liked walking. This feeling made him do a little dance with his arms. Finally, he reached the end of the street and soon stopped a long distance from a growling dog.
“No!” He ran, his tired legs feeling like slow crane machines.
A young man, tall with a V-neck t-shirt, his smile like a puppy’s, approached Sigurd and said “Hi.”
Looking behind him, Sigurd accidentally grabbed the young man, excusing himself and apologizing repeatedly. He let go of his hands and dashed out of sight of the young man.
The young man faced the dog, and from a dog with a size of a spaniel but with the strength of a Olympic lifter, his body was supernaturally pounded like dough. A flinch that formed a glare was plastered on his face as he lay on the ground dying, reaching out to Heaven.
Sigurd covered his mouth. “No!” His ugly scream was like a dying horse’s. “No!”
Sigurd approached the young man, and the dog backed away and stood straight with an observant face.
“What is it?”
A magical spell hit Sigurd. Sigurd’s voice turned harsh and hateful as if he was reciting an evil incantation. What’s more, his face turned red along with his skin.
“Oh? Oh! Oh!” He cursed as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. “What the—”
John Confesses a Lie While Someone Tries to Get Him to Stop Washing Dishes August 15, 2023
“I was lying. I did it. That’s it.”
“W-why! Fuck!” 
“Hey, John, are you okay? Why are you…? Stop washing dishes!”
“I know you are what you are.”