The Tutorial Boss Drinks Too Much
"A troll extermination request just came in."
Elena's hand froze mid-counting out the silver coins.
"A troll?"
"Trolls have been showing up on the eastern forest trade route, tying up the merchants."
I jerked my chin toward the peddlers filling the guild tavern seats. One rumor of trolls, and the whole city grinds to a halt for these guys. Peddlers usually travel in big groups—the more the merrier, less chance of monster attacks. But if a few hold out, the whole caravan stalls. Fewer heads means lower-grade adventurers they can afford to hire, smaller parties.
"Darko was supposed to handle it, but that idiot got canned, so someone had to fill the gap."
"Trolls are B-rank monsters. Why tell me?"
"'Cause you're doing it."
Elena blinked wide-eyed and glanced back at her party members.
"Us?"
"Darko boasted he'd hold it off with newbie adventurers, so the nobles are expecting it now."
Even without Darko, the guild overseer noble was still kicking around. Once they say something, they cling to it like pride itself. Pissing off a noble's expectations? That's more than a headache.
Elena gripped the silver coins tight. I could read her grinding teeth from here. 'Talk of honor, but it's just a pride pissing match.'
I wanted to off Darko myself sometimes, but without knowing that noble's angle, I couldn't touch him. If punishment came down, it'd be from the noble. The guy put his name on the line propping up that sword instructor, only for an I-rank to humiliate him—not just the guild, but his own rep. If I poked it and shit splattered back, it'd be a mess.
"What? Regretting not killing him back then?"
"N-no, not... exactly..."
Elena bit her lip. "...A little?"
"I get the feeling, but if you wanna kill a noble-backed guy, become more valuable than that noble first."
"Mm..."
Elena scowled. I shrugged.
"Anyway, that asshole dumped this crap on you. Forming your party was practice for taking him down with these kids."
"That's what it was?"
Elena fell silent, face grave, when Hans piped up cautiously.
"We're... taking down a troll?"
"What, scared?"
"..."
Hans shut her mouth. Mira and Duke's faces hardened too. No surprise. Orcs and trolls? Two ranks apart, straight up.
"It's decided. Approach it like you'll die if you fail."
"Yes, sir..."
The party's faces sank. F-rank kids suddenly hunting B-rank? Straight-up unfair.
"Noble expectations on the line, so succeed and you'll get their perks. I'll help where I can—lighten up."
Still no dice on the smiles.
"Orc shaman."
I set down my mug.
"Huh?"
"You know trolls use Green Magic, right?"
"Green Magic... plant control stuff?"
"Yeah."
Trolls wield Green Magic.
"Vines, roots, poison weeds, even man-eating plants. Stomp the ground, roots grab your ankles. Swing an arm, vines whip like lashes."
In forests, everything's their weapon.
"Trolls that settle long-term get called forest sages."
I recalled troll lore.
"Its turf turns into a fortress the denser it gets, but this one's fresh—should be weaker than your average B-rank."
"Weak enough for us to win?"
"Nah. As is? Two dead, two captured to birth troll brats."
Trolls were mini-bosses. Unknown patterns mean you eat hits. In the game, one hit and it's game over—straight to the rape scene.
'Game days, no biggie.'
That was the point. Defeat was premium content.
I could spill every pattern, but they'd hyperfocus and lose rhythm. Instead, I reached into my materials pouch and pulled out an orc tusk.
"So practice on an orc shaman first."
"Orc shaman?"
"Heard of 'em?"
Only Elena and Mira had. Hunter families—knew forest threats cold. Orc shamans were hunter nemeses; impossible not to know.
"They use Green Magic too. Perfect warm-up before the troll. Start by taking one down."
Elena thought it over, then nodded.
"Elena, map."
"Here."
She handed it over. I marked spots from game memory and Eck's know-how where shamans might lurk.
"Start here."
"It's there?"
"High chance. No luck? Check in order. One spot's bound to have it."
Elena nodded and led her party out of the guild.
"..."
I grabbed my mug again, swirled it—empty.
'Magic users share repertoires.'
Like firing cannons. Powerful, but patterns fixed. Good stamina and eyes dodge easy.
Even troll Green Magic mirrored orc shamans'. Difference? Spell frequency, maybe.
'Trolls favored bindings; shamans, sensitization.'
Both crippled control. Memories flooded back.
"Jeina."
"Yes? Here."
I shook the mug; she swapped it for a full, frothy beer. I tilted it back—lukewarm brew sliding down.
Orc shamans. Main spell: mushrooms. Varied effects, but sensitization amps were favorites.
In-game, hit it and screen went pink—Elena's idle changed to leg-rubbing, sudden masturbation. Lost control, captured, gang-raped by orcs.
Spore clouds. No prior intel? Near-guaranteed poisoning. Brutal pattern.
'Won't work now, though.'
Ogre Leather Armor held Red Moon power—top-tier anti-magic. Weak shaman shit bounced right off.
Problem? Not Elena—the greenhorn tagalongs.
'Wonder what choice Elena makes.'
Party hits aphro, loses reason, jumps her—can she cut 'em down per my advice?
'How much she values my words? Her call there'll show.'
"Hesitate, and you're next."
This world ain't kind to soft-hearted fools. Time she learned.
No skin off my back if she did. Just meant more leverage to make her rely on me.
But her first time to some other punk? Still soured my gut.
'Just fuck her myself and get it over with.'
Booze haze rising.
'She's ripe for it now. Blame Elis, beg for it?'
Eck's conquest faces flashed—then Elena's overlaid. Her clenching hole, bitch-face wailing in ecstasy. Imagining it stiffened me right up.
"..."
I pinched my temple.
"Drank too much?"
Just five mugs. Hitting hard tonight. Jeina's ass drawing my eyes extra—hips swaying hypnotic with each step.
"Mm..."
I squeezed my eyes shut, set the mug down.
The next day.
Elena crept through the brush, footsteps muffled. Mira scouted ahead, hitting the map's mark.
"Elena, there."
Mira pointed. A totem of beast bones and twigs—orc shaman territory marker.
"Uncle was right—it's really here?"
"Told you, he doesn't lie about this stuff."
"Still... means every A-rank knows shaman spots too..."
Mira frowned at that. Then an orc appeared by the totem. Smaller than average, covered in tattoos. Beast skull on a staff.
Orc shaman.
It shook the staff; nearby bushes quivered, pink spores billowing, tinting the forest.
"Cough! Hack!"
"Achoo!!"
"Cough cough!"
"Ngh."
Pink dust hit their hiding spot. Party couldn't hold coughs—shaman whipped around.
Cough cough!! Hans, Mira, Duke—all hacked, hands to ground, stances broken.
"Grraaak!"
Spotted, shaman raised staff. Thick vines snaked from earth, whipping for Elena's ankles.
Slash!
Elena sliced them mid-air.
"Grrraaak!"
Shaman threw arms up—thorny vines erupted, burrowing.
Elena kicked off, charging. Vines flew. She dodged most.
Thwack!
An unavoidable one hit her greaves. No pain, barely a jolt.
'This gear's insane?'
Expensive, sure—but this good? Defense confidence surged; her blade sharpened on the shaman.
She closed in, sword horizontal.
Slash.
Shaman's head sailed. Blood fountained; body crumpled.
"Whew."
She scanned—no other orcs. Just the shaman. Looted trophies, then dreaded turning back.
"Urgh... guh..."
"Hyaaah... yaaahn..."
"Grrk... grrk..."
Three down in the grass, clutching crotches, foaming.
Elena bit her lip. Knew the cure. Ignore it, two lose their manhood forever.
But Uncle's face flickered in mind.
"...Sorry."
Elena withdrew hands from Hans and Duke, reached for Mira instead.