The Hypnotized Goblin
"For now, this is all I can figure out right away."
With a soft shing,
he drew his sword from its sheath and pressed the blade against the goblin's throat.
He was about to thrust it in for a quick, painless death when a sudden realization hit him.
Hypnosis always wears off eventually, right?
What was the textbook definition of hypnosis, anyway?
It was planting suggestions to cloud the mind.
And if his understanding was correct, hypnosis only held if reinforced periodically—otherwise, it faded.
Why did he know this so well?
I saw it on a variety show. Yeah, one of those.
You know, the ones where celebrities go to the hospital for hypnosis therapy.
That's where he picked it up.
But dragging this thing all the way back to battalion HQ?
The goblin drooled mindlessly under the trance,
its grotesque features making him want to drop it right then and there.
Yeah, alright. Let's do it.
"Deputy commander."
After steeling himself, he called out to Lieutenant Aisa Lintun, who had been watching from a step behind.
"Yes, sir."
"Take this guy back to battalion HQ and lock it in a sealed room."
"Me, sir?"
Her expression screamed, You're seriously asking me to touch that filthy thing?
He felt a pang of guilt, but nodded anyway.
"Yeah, it's super important. Mind handling it?"
It was important—no lie there.
This is how you grow: by pulling rank and dumping the dirty work on the juniors.
Hadn't he slaved away under Eden like that?
This made him practically a saint. A saint.
"U-understood, sir."
With no real grounds to refuse, she grimaced and took hold of the ropes binding the goblin.
"Ugh."
Sticky saliva smeared her hands the instant she grabbed it.
One more glance, and he'd feel like trash, so he looked away.
"Captain Palan Oclo's battalion just reported a goblin pack descending from the ridge."
Major Orpia was leisurely sipping her black tea when Captain Remin delivered the report.
"Rough first day for them."
"The numbers are low, so nothing major unless they do something stupid."
"You don't trust him?"
"Handing a key post to a brand-new agent? I doubt he can extract intel, let alone fend off monsters."
Palan Oclo had rocketed through the ranks at an astonishing pace.
Higher-ups mostly praised his skills, but fellow officers at his level saw things differently.
"Is that so?"
"What does a guy who just ate whatever Colonel Eden spoon-fed him know? Why promote him to captain already? I don't get it."
Captain Remin vented his frustrations, sounding utterly exasperated—as if thinking of Palan gave him heartburn.
"It took me four years to make captain, and this kid... I can't even sleep from the injustice."
His voice dripped with raw sincerity.
Major Orpia's reaction, after hearing him out, was utterly nonchalant.
"Name the biggest achievement Captain Palan pulled off in his four years with Intelligence."
"Pardon?"
"You're so aggrieved. Go on, tell me."
Caught off guard by her response,
Captain Remin faltered.
"Nothing? Exactly. If he'd earned merits, he'd have gotten captain on schedule."
She set her teacup down on the table with a soft clink.
"Am I wrong?"
A curt question.
Head bowed in shame, Captain Remin had no retort.
"Jealousy and envy are fine—in your head. Don't dump them on me; I don't want to hear it."
"S-sorry, ma'am."
Even with just one glaring eye, her stare crushed him.
"I thought well of you, but this is disappointing. Back to your post—focus on your work."
"Yes, ma'am..."
Captain Remin's face was rigid.
He shuffled back to his seat, feeling like a condemned man.
"Why's the mood so dour? Everyone tired?"
At Major Orpia's words, the other agents—silent as mice—forced awkward smiles.
"H-ha, no, ma'am."
"I need to check something outside."
An artificial cheer.
Major Orpia ignored it, returning to her report.
I wonder if he'll snag any leads.
Palan Oclo, freshly minted as a full Intelligence agent.
He seemed oblivious to the spotlight on him—the hottest topic in the agency right now.
If he scores results solo, it'll be a huge leap. Fail, and the hyenas waiting for a shot will pounce.
She'd seen it happen plenty of times.
"Eden's got a rotten personality, doesn't she."
Dumping her brand-new deputy in the deep end and vanishing without a backward glance.
Palan had learned from her, sure—but Orpia didn't see it that way.
"I treated him so well. Poor Captain Palan."
A few who knew the truth held their breath at her mutter.
"Kiiih..."
A day after capture, post-lunch, he visited the warehouse holding the goblin.
"Still out of it."
No points needed to confirm—the trance held firm.
"What exactly are you hoping to observe, sir?"
Lieutenant Aisa, tagging along, asked from beside him.
"Just waiting for it to snap out of it."
"Snap out?"
"These things aren't usually this dumb. Figure it'll head home if we let it go, so I'm waiting."
Skipping the hypnosis bit made it sound off,
but what could he do? No proof, no way to claim they were hypnotized.
"A novel approach."
"Standard methods are probably exhausted. No point wasting time."
He picked up a long wooden stick from the floor and lifted the goblin's chin.
"Kii..."
Drool cascaded down.
Aisa winced, yesterday's ordeal flashing back.
"Maybe feed it something."
Food builds immunity, resistance...
Damn, that's more logical than I thought.
He'd tossed it out half-jokingly, but it held up scientifically.
"Grab some meat to feed it, would you?"
"Pardon...? You're serious?"
Even to him, it sounded absurd and queasy.
"Gotta feed it if we're observing long-term. Goblins eat raw meat, right?"
Pop culture said yes, but stereotypes could mislead.
"To be safe, cook it first."
This prize catch deserved no risks.
"Cooked... Understood. Just meat?"
"Hm."
He pondered her question.
Anything else to try?
French fries for fun? Nah, potatoes hadn't spread here yet.
"Oh, right—got any peppers?"
"Peppers? Uh... probably."
She wasn't supply chief, so no certainty.
"Grab some on the way—the hottest ones."
"May I ask why, sir?"
Lieutenant Aisa ventured cautiously.
He answered with an awkward grin.
"Eh, just thought spicy food might jolt it awake."
"Ah..."
She sighed.
Her eyes screamed he's lost it.
"General, Duke Abiel just got approval from His Majesty for the funding we targeted."
"Kekeke, finally! Our work bears fruit at last."
The room was a chaotic mess,
but order reigned in its own way. The owner, Govel, clenched his fist with a chilling laugh.
"Congratulations, sir."
"The world will kneel to my genius. Kekeke! Kekekekeke!"
Embarrassingly grandiose, yet utterly earnest.
"Start immediately?"
"No, too risky in current form. Tweak a few parts first. We've got time."
"Understood."
"Three months? No, two—and my name will echo across the continent. Me, Govel, scorned and called a fool by all!"
"Y-yes, sir."
The researcher's anti-magic resistance was waning.
"Out. Time to focus."
"Yes, sir! Keep it up!"
Once the researcher left, Govel sat, pen in hand.
"Ahh, beautiful. So beautiful."
Magic circuits sprawled across a desk big enough for a man to lie on.
Unlike chuunibyou delusions, his talent was real.
"Just a bit longer. With this masterpiece, I'll sever your necks."
For the record, Govel loathed the Lycan Empire not at all.
He collaborated for the funds—his true targets were allies in the Aditz Empire: the Magic Circuit Association that expelled him and his alma mater, Belluat Academy.
"Kekeke! Kehe! Kahahahaha!!!"
Victory near, he cackled uncontrollably, hands steady on the massive circuit.
One slip could ruin it all, yet emotion never shook his precision.
"Gotta do some charity for those doomed fools outside."
Words said, but once immersed, Govel didn't emerge for two full days.
"They have sleep artifacts, but no mind-manipulation ones as described."
"Developable?"
"Checked imperial records on similar research—all failures, no results."
"Tricky, then."
"Yes, not impossible, but odds are extremely low."
A crisp, excellent report.
Perks of power—automation.
No wonder everyone chased promotions.