Tutorial (1): Betrayed and Reborn as a Goblin

I used to watch TV charity broadcasts for the homeless and think to myself, those people are really pitiful. Their filthy, unwashed bodies, their tattered clothes—even through the screen, their wretched state came through loud and clear.

Why bring that up now? Because my current situation wasn't any better.

"Um... I don't have any money today. Could I get it on credit? I can definitely pay by tomorrow..."

"Fuck off, you broke-ass punk! Get out!!"

"Please, just this once..."

"Honey! Throw that hunchbacked bastard out!"

The customers snickered. Some turned to look at me, then averted their eyes in disgust. No one lifted a finger to help. In a world where the weak are despised, that's just how it is. In the end, that rough-looking uncle grabbed me by the collar and hurled me out into the street.

Damn... another night sleeping rough...

I trudged along the unpaved dirt path. My hunchbacked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠body ached in my back after just a few steps, but it was a familiar pain I could endure.

On either side stood rickety shacks patched together from scrap planks, and the sewer ran black sludge that was so filthy I couldn't even imagine it. If it touched my skin, hives would probably erupt in under a minute.

Soon, a dingy alley came into view. Rats scurrying across the ground fled at the sight of me. I slipped inside out of habit, pulled out a scrap of magic beast hide from my shabby bag, spread it on the ground, and lay down.

Grrrrowl...

My stomach was glued to my spine, but I didn't even have a penny for a single piece of bread. My gut screamed in protest, but I ignored it as best I could.

How did it come to this? Just four years ago, I was a pretty successful intervener. Did I have exceptional talent in combat? Hell no—quite the opposite.

No matter how hard I trained with swords, blunt weapons, or even daggers, Mid-rank was my absolute limit. The reason I survived anyway was because I shifted my focus away from getting stronger myself and toward supporting others.

Unlike me, my party members had shining talents. For them, I studied traits, jobs, combat strategies, and tactics every single day. I pushed myself relentlessly to be useful. Pulling all-nighters was standard; blood dripped nonstop from my nose.

That turned our party into one of the "top-tier" groups. I got recognition for my efforts and became the leader. But back then, I had no idea—they'd become the noose around my neck.

A scene I loathed, etched deep in my heart, resurfaced.

I'd woken up that morning and was sipping tea in the mansion when Minjae Park walked in. He was like a little brother to me—the one I cherished and trusted most.

Among the party, he followed me closer than anyone. It was only natural to pay a bit more attention to someone like that.

"Hyung."

"You eat breakfast yet?"

"Not yet."

Our usual casual chat. I reached for another teacup but paused when I saw his expression. Clenched jaw, eyes lost in deep thought—he was staring out the window behind me.

Sunlight lit his profile, casting a shadow darker than usual. It was nothing like his normal calm, lake-like composure. Something felt off.

"Something wrong?"

Silence followed. It was brief, but it dragged on uncomfortably.

"Hyung, wouldn't it be better if you stepped down now?"

"Haha, what's that supposed to mean all of a sudden?"

"I'm not joking."

Only then did his eyes turn to me. That familiar gaze—the one he had right before battle, all hesitation shed. The look he always saved for enemies... now aimed at me. A chill ran down my spine.

"Sorry, but you're not needed anymore, hyung."

"What...?"

"Thanks for everything up till now."

I didn't even have time to set down my cup. Magic blasted from outside my vision, exploding into my side. My breath caught; the chair toppled backward, and I rolled across the floor.

"Now."

Someone's voice rang out, and then it was one-sided slaughter. Swords slashed my body, maces crushed my ribs, spells detonated against my back. I tried to fight back, but my body wouldn't respond.

"How could you all... betray me like..."

Someone's boot stomped my hand. Bone-crunching pain tore a groan from my lips.

"Don't overdo it, hyung Yeonwoo. It'll be over soon."

The floor was soaked in my blood. With my last strength, I lifted my head. Five figures stood there—my party members.

Expressionless, they looked down at my mangled form.

No one approached. No one offered a hand.

Joohee Lee, one of them, turned her head away as if she couldn't bear to watch. That hurt even more. She'd been my lover.

I celebrated when they grew stronger, cheered them through walls and breakdowns. Watching them thrive in my place gave my worthless life meaning.

To me, they were more than party members—they were friends, family. Apparently, I was the only one who felt that way.

"Yeonwoo hyung-nim, your spine's shattered—you'll be a hunchback for life. Don't hold a grudge. Joohee begged us not to kill you."

"You're lucky, hyung. She pleaded ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so hard... oh right, time to finish up."

Sangho Yoon placed his palm on my stomach and channeled mana. It sharpened into thorns, shredding my mana circuits.

"Now you can't even use mana. Done~ Let's go, everyone."

Taemin Park issued the final warning.

"Live quietly in the Slum, hyung Yeonwoo. If we see you again... you know what happens, right?"

The door shut, and their footsteps faded completely, but I couldn't move a muscle. I tried to inhale, but my lungs failed me. Sensation was gone from my twisted spine.

"Ha..."

Rage boiled up, but my body couldn't handle it anymore. Even twitching a finger was impossible.

Then footsteps returned.

Lee Joohee—no trace of the warm woman who'd once confessed her love to me.

"......Sorry."

That one word. I said nothing. Couldn't. Anything I said would just sound pathetic.

She approached slowly and tossed something at my feet. The necklace I'd nearly died for in a dungeon and gifted her.

"I... can't take this. I'm really sorry..."

She turned and left the room.

I don't know how much time passed. The sun dipped low; noise from outside the alley jolted me awake.

Rubbing my eyes, I felt hot tears. Every morning, my eyes were wet. I'd never cried because I wanted to. I just couldn't stop the tears.

Drunken laughter and crude curses filled the alley.

"Hey, that hunchback's collapsed over there."

"Fuck, he's still breathing?"

Slum thugs, probably. They approached and kicked my body. I lay still as a dead rat. This was routine.

"He got any cash? Search him."

They rifled my pockets and tore open my bag.

"Huh? Check this out—magic beast hide."

"We could sell it."

Laughing uproariously, they started beating me with fists and feet. Harsher than usual. I wanted to scream at them to stop... but honestly, I just wanted it to end.

As a hunchback, I could never recover as an intervener, no matter how hard I tried. If my mana circuits were intact, maybe I'd have a shot, but they'd severed that too.

A washed-up intervener's life was pathetic. Penniless, drifting through back alleys, starving as a given.

I'd clung to faint hopes every day, but now I was exhausted. Sick of it all. The kicks kept coming.

Once, twice, three times.

Ribs cracked with an audible snap; pain snapped me alert. Betrayed by party members I'd called family, despised as a hunchback.

Hot rage surged in my chest. But reality crashed in—I could do nothing. Tears flowed.

The traitors' faces flashed one by one. If I got one more chance, I'd kill them all.

Gouge their eyes and chew them in front of them. Slice their bellies, yank out their guts, display them right there.

Every last one, from head to toe, I'd grind them to pieces and devour.

Please... just once... anyone... give me a chance...

But my consciousness sank into darkness. In that moment, the necklace Joohee had returned glowed white.

"Hey, wake up already..."

My body shook relentlessly. Someone was shaking me. My eyes opened.

I... should be dead...

I bolted upright and looked around. Trees and bushes everywhere—a forest, probably.

Something poked my shoulder from behind. I whipped around instinctively and nearly fainted. A grotesque goblin with green skin stood there.

"Gahhh!"

"Grahhh!"

My scream startled the goblin into yelling too. But something was off. Goblins charge humans without mercy to kill. This one just tilted its head, staring at me.

Four years surviving as an intervener, four more as a hunchback. Eight years total on the lower continent.

One lesson I'd learned: panic gets you killed. I steadied myself and assessed the situation.

Location: forest. Goblin woke me. It didn't seem aggressive.

Wait—am I even alive? A river ran nearby. I rushed over and checked my reflection. A hideous face just like the goblin's stared back.

Goblin?

I looked down at my body. Green skin, skinny limbs. That explained why it wasn't attacking.

No denying it: I'd resurrected as a goblin.

Goblins are greenskins, non-human races on the lower continent. They speak a different language from humans. To test, I spoke to the goblin that woke me.

"Thanks for waking me."

"Everyone else was up, but you were still out..."

It understood and replied.

Then a message popped into my head.

I froze like stone. This was the Tutorial. The mandatory gateway every intervener passes through before the lower continent proper. If this was really the tutorial, it was my chance. The system showers quests and rewards here generously.

Who clears faster, who grabs the next quest first—that gap carries over to the continent.

I didn't know that when I first arrived. I just ran scared. That's one reason I never reached High-rank. But not this time.

Stay sharp, Yeonwoo Kim.

I recalled the quests from my human days.

It was kill ten monsters or something...

Similar content, as expected. Our goblin group numbered about fifty. They looked tense, scanning around—probably saw the same messages.

Suddenly, someone shouted.

"Over here! There's a human here!!"