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"Kirik!"

"Keureuk!"

"Kiriririk!"

The two goblins were looking at each other, jabbering about something. Even as they did, I swept a quick look around them.

The first things that jumped out were the two crossbows dumped carelessly on the floor. They were holding daggers now, but quivers hung on their backs, and perched on their heads was gear that looked like goggles—thick lenses set deep into the frames.

…So the two of them had been taking turns shooting from the end of the passage? Piercing straight through pitch-black darkness with those goggles?

The difficulty is fucking…

A hollow laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. The reason they hadn't kept shooting wasn't some clever strategy—they'd simply run out of arrows. The quivers strapped to their backs were empty.

"Kirikkirikkirik!"

"Keureukkeureukkeureuk!"

The two of them thrashing and screeching at each other was none of my business. What mattered was that both goblins were currently holding daggers.

I have to take one of those off them.

Even if it meant dying once to do it.

I figured I'd start by easing my feet back. I didn't know much about fighting, but some instinct told me I needed even a little distance from two goblins at once.

But the longer I watched them… the stranger it felt. I wasn't some master of goblin physiognomy, but that look? That was pure, unmistakable terror. Like each one was trying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to shove the other forward to deal with me first.

Why are they this scared?

These were the same bastards who'd been pouring arrows into me moments ago. Then again—thinking about it—a human you'd emptied every last shaft into and still couldn't kill.

A human who walked through every trap in the place, holes punched clean through their body, and just got back up. Yeah. Facing that would put the fear into anyone.

I dipped my head and looked down at myself. Clothes soaked through with blood. Hair plastered to my face in a mess. Blood that hadn't even dried yet was still dripping off my forearms in fat drops.

…Yeah. Fair enough.

I die and come back.

No need to open the distance. My whole body had already been run through with iron spikes—what was a dagger compared to that?

I twisted my blood-soaked face into the ugliest snarl I could manage and charged them.

"Gal!"

"Kiruk?!"

The goblins recoiled in shock. I locked onto the one that had been screeching the loudest—Kirik—and sprinted full tilt. It flinched back, then thrust its dagger out in a panic.

Shunk.

A dull sensation, the blade burying itself in my gut—but I shoved forward anyway. Small as they were, the raw strength difference didn't feel that huge. We went down in a thrashing tangle. I gritted my teeth and scrambled on top of the goblin. If I could just pull the dagger out of my stomach and put it straight through its throat—

"Hhk…"

The second I wrenched the dagger free, blood sprayed out in a gush, and every scrap of strength seemed to drain straight out of me through the wound.

Holy shit… I'd miscalculated. This body was far too fragile.

Kirik thrashed like it was having a seizure and shoved me off. I toppled backward. The goblin scrambled upright and bolted without so much as a glance back—leaving the other one still standing there, not running.

That one clutched its dagger in both hands, hesitating, edging half a step at a time. I must have looked weak enough to be an opportunity, but it still couldn't quite commit.

"What are you waiting for… Come on in."

I tightened my grip, ready to swing the moment it stepped in range. In the end, it turned its back.

"Hey…"

It took off into the dark. I had to catch it. But my body wouldn't answer. If I just lay there, I'd die eventually—but how long would that take? A minute? Three? Letting them get far away in a place this dark… that wasn't an option.

I'd already died more times than I could count. Not by choice, but still.

I clenched the dagger's grip again, hard, waking the feel of it back into my palm.

"Hoo…"

I'd already pulled a blade out of myself. How hard could putting one in be? Failing at that would genuinely hurt my pride.

I let the hesitation out with a shaky breath… and drove the knife into my own throat.

"Ghk—!"

Something hot poured down my neck. Or maybe it was surging up the other way. Either way, blood-foam burst from my mouth instead of air. The pain was monstrous—but my vision went dark fast.

Five times? Six? Up through the first handful ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of deaths I'd been that terrified…

…But I can do it now.

Clatter.

The dagger slid free of my throat and hit the ground. The gushing from my abdomen, the bone-deep weakness—all of it vanished clean. I cracked my eyes open. Blurry vision snapped sharp in an instant.

Okay. I'd just pulled the absolute GOAT move of things you're not supposed to do at a funeral.

I snatched up the dagger that had fallen beside me. It hadn't punched all the way through the other side of my neck, so it came free still coated in blood. Perfect.

"Kirik. Keureuk."

I could still hear bare feet slapping stone—they were still running. One of them, at least, wasn't far.

I flipped the dagger into a reverse grip.

"You're dead if I catch youuuu!"

"Keureuk!"

No idea about the one that bolted first, but Keureuk clearly hadn't gotten far. I tore after it at a full sprint. Natural difference in leg length closed the gap in seconds.

"Keureuk!"

Sensing me right behind it, Keureuk let out a terror-stricken scream. The moment I could almost touch its back, I slammed the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dagger down into it.

"Keureuk!"

A little off-center—didn't bury deep—but the blade left a long gash across its back. Keureuk pitched forward with a short cry. Showing your back is a goblin's disgrace. This one was dying on goblin honor.

This time I planted the knife properly between its shoulders.

Shunk.

Just in case, I grabbed the hilt and wrenched it free.

Pssh!

And again.

Shunk!

It might've been tougher than it looked. I pulled the dagger out and drove it in once more. Could I really get careless after stabbing three times with a fragile woman's body? I yanked the blade free again. Over and over—pull, stab—until at last I caught the leather strap holding its quiver in place.

"Where's Kirik! Holding out to the end for your buddy, is that it?"

"…"

No answer. Damn. Couldn't take it. Weakling.

I let the goblin's limp body drop and lifted my head. Kirik's turn.

"Kirik~ Big sis is here. I even brought something tasty—you gonna keep hiding because you're too shy?"

I hunted for Kirik by ear. No footsteps wandering around. But after circling a bit, I realized something—this place wasn't that big. When I'd first come out of the passage, dark and half out of my mind, I'd taken it for a wide cavern. Walking the walls told a different story: there weren't many places worth hiding.

I'd thought there might be another passage on the far side from the one I'd exited. Didn't seem like it. So had it fled back into the passage I'd come from? Impossible—it would've been skewered on iron spikes before I ever got to kill it.

I kept walking, head cocked, until I stopped dead. My head turned slowly.

"…There you are."

Kirik was curled tight in a corner, both hands locked on a crossbow, shaking violently. When had it even grabbed that and run? And there was an arrow already nocked.

"Shoot. But if you don't kill me, you're going to hurt a whole lot. I took some damage on the way here, you know? I'll pay every bit of it back with interest."

Then again—could goblins even understand me? Probably not.

I tensed my legs, ready for the shot.

And then—

"…?"

Kirik swung the crossbow around. The tip that had been aimed at me… turned on itself.

"Huh?"

Kirik squeezed its eyes shut.

Twang.

Shunk.

The bolt punched up through the underside of its jaw and burst out the top of its skull.

At the same instant—

Ding-ding-ding!

A cheerful little chime that had no business in a place like this rang out, and a blue window bloomed into the air.

"…What."

A hot current surged up from deep inside my body. Fatigue washed away clean. I felt light as a feather. Even my head cleared, a floating high lifting through me—and still the voice that left my mouth sounded faintly hollow.

That was it…? Just like that?

Two goblins? Hell difficulty?

Well… sure. Fighting your way bare-handed through two goblins with night-vision goggles and crossbows at the end of a long dark passage, cracking mana traps along the way, then having to knife-fight the survivors who were waiting for you—yeah.

For a freshly awakened Level 1 challenger, that was basically an impossible clear. And the first floor wasn't supposed to have a boss to begin with.

I glanced down at the bloodied dagger, then at Kirik, dead by its own crossbow bolt.

…I couldn't even begin to measure how terrified it must have been.