The creature cocks its head, flashing me a grin straight out of a horror show. Its teeth are uneven, yellow, and look like they’ve been chewing rocks for breakfast. Then it exhales.

Big mistake.

The stench hits me like a dead skunk doing a drive-by. My stomach does a full somersault, and for a second, I think I’m gonna hurl. We’re not even that close yet, and I’m already getting blasted with chemical warfare.

It locks eyes with me, and I swear something snaps behind that glare. Not just hate. That much is obvious. No, this thing’s enjoying itself. The way its lip curls, the way its eyes sparkle with sick delight. It’s getting a full-course meal out of my discomfort.

In its right hand, it holds a stone ax. Primitive, sure. Caveman starter pack level. But the edge looks sharp enough to split a tree… or a teenager. It doesn’t twirl it for flair or show it off. Just hold it steady, low, with this creepy calmness. No wasted movement. No bluff. It’s calculating. Figuring out the best way to carve me up like a holiday turkey.

Then it opens its mouth.

“Fear not, young warrior. I mean you great harm.”

The voice is wrong. It doesn’t match the body at all. High-pitched, whiny, like a toddler trying to impersonate a villain. Nails-on-a-chalkboard kind of wrong.

I almost laugh. Almost.

Then it cackles. Loud and broken, like a cassette tape possessed by a demon. The sound bounces off the trees, way too sharp for this quiet forest. It doesn’t belong here. None of this does.

Still, I hold my ground. No way I’m giving it the satisfaction.

I curl my fingers tighter around my sad excuse of a weapon, and narrow my eyes.

“Status Sight,” I whisper.

A ripple passes through the air like I’ve activated a cheat code. A translucent display flickers into view, glowing with thin, glitchy lines that rearrange themselves into readable stats.

________________________________________

Common Goblin (Ankoku, Akai)

Level: 2

Title: None

Description: Common Goblins are among the most prevalent and rudimentary of goblinkind; these creatures are characterized by their green skin, impish demeanor, and penchant for pillaging human settlements in search of sustenance and riches.

________________________________________

Level Two. That doesn’t sound too bad.

But I’m not exactly packing heat. I’m armed with a glorified jawbreaker. My “stone nut,” as I’d oh-so-cleverly named it.

I glance at the goblin again. Still smiling. Still creeping forward. His ax gleams under the sun, itching to spill something red.

Can I outrun this dude?

Doubtful. His legs are short, but they look wired. Fast and twitchy, like he chugged three energy drinks and is ready to throw hands.

I glance at the rock again.

This is ridiculous.

My brain checks out. No more overthinking. My body just moves.

I wind back and hurl the stone with everything I’ve got, hoping it’ll at least bonk the thing hard enough to buy me a few seconds.

If I’m going down, I’m going down throwing hands and rocks. Mostly rocks.

The rock zips through the air like it skips the intro and goes straight to violence.

Smack.

Right between the goblin’s eyes.

He stumbles back, like I just slapped the Wi-Fi out of him. His expression goes from “I’m gonna gut you” to “Did that pebble just dare hit me?” Honestly, I’m just as stunned.

I blink.

Wait… did that actually work?

For a half-second, hope lights up inside me. Maybe this isn’t a joke weapon. Maybe this basic rock’s secretly some holy relic of destruction, blessed by the gods of long-range pettiness.

I glance at the stone lying on the ground, totally chill and ordinary-looking. It doesn’t glow. It doesn’t vibrate. It just sits there like, Yeah, I did that.

The goblin follows my gaze. His fingers brush the new dent in his forehead. His brows furrow.

Then he snarls. A full-on anime villain mid-transformation kind of snarl. His eyes narrow into slits of pure fury, and the snarl turns into a roar that shakes the surrounding leaves.

You probably think I’d just secured my victory. Like I was going to walk away from that encounter with my dignity intact.

Yeah. I wish.

He charges.

“Crap. Crap. Crap—Sōten! Sōten! Sōten!”

Rocks pop into my hand one after another like I’m some kind of rage-fueled gacha machine. I chuck them fast, praying to every protagonist power-up trope I can think up.

One rock clips his shoulder. Another grazes his cheek. The last one catches him square in the forehead again and makes a thunk so satisfying it deserves a remix.

He falters.

I take a deep breath, narrow my stance, and pull one more Hail Mary from the skill list.

“Sōten!”

A final stone drops into my palm.

I wind back like a baseball ace going for the final strikeout and launch it.

Thud.

Right in the same sweet spot. His eyes go wide. His ax drops with a clatter.

He staggers.

Now.

I sprint forward before my courage has time to bail on me. My fingers close around the ax’s handle. It’s heavier than I thought, rough and uneven, probably made in some goblin garage workshop.

The goblin groans and pulls out a nasty-looking obsidian dagger from his belt. We lock eyes.

No words. Just pure, mid-battle flashback tension.

He shrieks like a banshee on sugar and lunges.

I step in. No hesitation. I swing the ax down toward his head.

TING!

I freeze.

So does he.

We both look at each other.

Then at the ax.

Then back at each other like, Did that just bounce off?

He blinks.

I blink.

Then I do what any desperate teen, armed with panic and spite, would do.

I kick him right between the legs.

The goblin lets out a noise. Not a scream. Not a groan. Just a noise. His face twists like he just bit into a lemon.

But he doesn’t go down.

Nope. He stands there, groaning, rubbing his goblin nuts with one hand while giving me the “I’m going to haunt your dreams” stare with the other.

I raise the ax and take another swing at his head.

TING!

Same sound again. Was his skull made of plate armor?

He rubs his head, then glares at the ax like it offended him. I glance down at the weapon in my hands.

It’s still sharp. Still lethal-looking. Still… utterly useless.

“Hmm… a dud?” I mutter, half to myself, half to the air.

You probably think I’d a better plan. That I knew what I was doing.

Yeah. Not even close.

I do something dumb. Like, the kind of dumb you’d expect from a Saturday morning cartoon.

I hand the ax to the goblin.

Yeah. I actually give it to him.

He cocks an eyebrow.

I nod at his head like, You try.

And here’s the part where logic packs its bags and leaves the forest.

He takes the ax. Raises it high. Grins like he is about to break the world record for self-inflicted head trauma.

And slams it into his own skull.

The sound’s something you would hear in a bad dream.

Bone crunches. Green blood pours out like someone popped a ketchup packet.

His eyes roll back before gravity does its thing, and he hits the dirt.

Face first.

Dead.

Just like that.

I stand there, mouth open, brain buffering. Did I just… win?

The goblin twitches once, then goes still. His blood pools around him, seeping into the earth like it’s trying to pretend this whole mess didn’t just happen.

I activate Status Sight, because something’s got to explain what kind of Looney Tunes logic just played out in front of me.

________________________________________

Stone Ax:

This item is not categorized as a weapon due to your Marksman Class; all attempts to use it for offensive attack will be nullified.

Would you like to change its classification to a tool item?

________________________________________

“Seriously?” I shake my head, but I allow the change.

The ax vanishes from the physical world and pops up in my TOOLS & ITEMS.

I reach down to pick up the dagger and, yep, same deal. Useless as a weapon. I sigh and add it too. The dagger slides into place beside the ax like they’re part of some failed DIY goblin kit nobody asked for.

Then a new screen blinks to life.

________________________________________

You have achieved your first kill: Common Goblin

Level Up +1

Gold: 10

Points: 2

Item Drop: Ring +1

________________________________________

“Yesss!” My eyes gleam as I eagerly flip over to MONETARY ITEMS.

________________________________________

Total Gold: 510

Other Luxury Items: None

 ________________________________________

“I see… five hundred gold pieces to start.” I glance up at the sky and offer my most dramatic apology.

“Sorry for cursing you earlier.”

Next, I check ACCESSORIES.

________________________________________

Only five accessories can be equipped at one time.

Ring of Mischief (Rare): Dexterity +1

________________________________________

Damn it. Same restriction.

Well, at least it’s the same number as the SPECIAL SKILLS I can use.

Symmetry’s nice. In a “screws-you-over-equally” kind of way.

I select the ring. A faint, transparent shimmer appears on one of my fingers, almost invisible against my skin. Probably a stealth feature to keep other players from eyeballing your gear.

Guess I’d find out soon enough once I got more drops or scraped together enough to hit the ONLINE STORE.

Ah, right. I still haven’t checked my player status.

________________________________________

AKIRA SAKAMOTO (AOI PLAYER)

LEVEL: 2

CLASS: MARKSMAN

SUBCLASS: GUNNER

TITLE: LOVER OF PEACH

MAIN STATS

HEALTH POINTS (HP): 40 — 100%

MANA POINTS (MP): 300 — 100%

STRENGTH (STR): 1

DEXTERITY (DEX): 2+1

WISDOM (WIS): 2

CHARISMA (CHA): 1

INTELLIGENCE (INT): 30

LUCK (LCK): 1

FREE STAT POINTS: 2

OVERALL PRESTIGE (P): +120% (MAX 1000%)

________________________________________

The first thing that catches my eye isn’t the boost. Or the stats.

Nope.

It’s the title they slapped on me, looking way too proud of itself.

I squint. Tilt my head. Then shout at the sky.

“Why the heck is this the title? Seriously? Is this some kind of joke?”

Before I can start a full-blown yelling match with the digital gods, a howl slices through the silence.

Long. Cold. Bone-deep.

Feels like someone’s dragging an ice cube down my spine while whispering, “you’re next” right into my ear.

Every instinct I didn’t even know I had starts screaming one thing.

Run.

My heart goes from casual beat to full dubstep.

That sound?

It doesn’t come from a goblin.

It doesn’t even sound like it belongs in this forest.

It sounds like boss music’s about to kick in.

I scan the treeline, eyes darting, brain flipping through survival tips I definitely never bothered to read. My hands move on autopilot, scooping up every marble-rock I can find and jamming them straight into AMMO.

No hesitation.

Gotta respect the one thing that actually saved my butt.

I glance back at the goblin. His body just… lies there. Limp. Still. Weirdly peaceful, considering he’d just ax-suicided right in front of me.

I take a second.

Not for him. Not really. More for the moment.

Some kind of awkward anime-style respect-for-your-enemy thing.

Then I give him a small bow and mumble, “Thanks for the gold and ring, Green Goblin.”

Yeah. Not the most heartfelt eulogy. But hey, I mean it.

Then I book it.

No theatrical pause. No slow-motion walk into the sunset.

Just me, sprinting for the trees like a horror movie extra who knows he’s not getting a second episode if he trips.

Whatever made that noise?

Nope.

Not today.

Not without better weapons, real armor, and maybe a party of overleveled NPCs.

You probably thought I was gonna stay and be brave, right?

Yeah. Not a chance.

If there’s one thing I learned real fast in this game-world mashup, it’s this—

Survival’s not about bravery. It’s about running before you even see what you’re running from.