The dead of night clung to Luke's small apartment, the glow of his PC monitor the only light in the room. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes after finishing the latest chapter of his favorite manga.
"What? That's it?" he muttered, scrolling back up to double-check. "A whole week of waiting for this? God, I hate cliffhangers."
He stretched, his back cracking as he stood. "Man, I wish I could just… jump into a fantasy world. No more boring nine-to-five, no more rent, no more this." He gestured vaguely at his cluttered room. "I'd be the overpowered protagonist, unlimited mana, harem of beauties—none of this wishy-washy 'will they, won't they' crap. I'd be the next Casanova. Hell, I'd be a god."
His laugh echoed in the empty room, but it faded quickly. "Yeah, right. Like that'll ever happen." He flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Every weeb's dream, huh? Too bad it's just that—a dream."
With a sigh, he closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion pull him under.
When Luke woke up, it wasn't to the sound of his alarm. Instead, it was the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and guttural, snarling voices that sounded… almost like words. His eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright, heart pounding.
"Where the hell am I?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
The trees around him were massive, their trunks wider than any he'd ever seen. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something… metallic. He scrambled to his feet, his hands—small, green, and clawed—catching his attention immediately.
"What the—?" He stared at them, turning them over in disbelief. "No. No, no, no. This isn't happening."
A holographic screen flickered to life in front of him, glowing faintly in the dim light.
[Your wish has been granted.]
"What wish?" Luke demanded, his voice higher-pitched than he remembered. "What are you talking about?"
[You have been granted a great gift by a supreme being.]
"A gift?!" He looked down at his body—green skin, a leather loincloth, sharp nails, and a wiry frame. "This is a gift? I'm a freaking goblin!"
The screen didn't respond. Instead, it displayed his status:
[ Name: Luke Rodriguez
Age: 7
Species: Goblin
Evolutionary Path: Locked (Required: Level 20)
Level: 1
Tech Points: 50
Skills:
Blueprint Creation and Analysis
Scrap Salvage
Crafting
Resource Detection
Inventory (Level 1)
Goblin Language
Attributes:
STR - 3
AGI - 4
PER - 4
VIT - 3
RES - 3
INT - 2
MAG - 0
Attribute Points: 3 ]
Luke's mind raced. "Okay, okay, let's think this through. I'm a goblin. A goblin. Not exactly the 'overpowered protagonist' I was hoping for, but… I've got skills. Tech points? Blueprints? Crafting? What is this, some kind of sci-fi fantasy mashup?"
Before he could dwell on it further, another notification popped up:
[Shop Function: Unlocked.]
[Codex Function: Unlocked.]
"Shop? Codex? What's that supposed to mean?" Luke muttered, swiping at the screen as if it would explain more. But the system remained silent, offering no further details.
He groaned. "Great. Just great. I'm stuck in some weird fantasy world as a goblin, and now I've got a system that's as cryptic as a fortune cookie."
He scanned the screen again, his eyes landing on the MAG stat. "Magic? I've got magic? Well, zero magic, but…" He grinned, a sharp-toothed smile that felt alien on his face. "Three points, huh? Let's fix that."
He dumped all three points into MAG, watching the stat climb from 0 to 3. A sudden, burning sensation spread through his chest, like a spark igniting in his core. He gasped, doubling over as the energy surged through him.
"Holy crap," he muttered, straightening up. "That's… that's awesome."
A voice barked behind him, harsh and guttural. "What are you doing, slacker?"
Luke spun around, his heart leaping into his throat. Another goblin stood there, holding a crude spear and glaring at him with yellow eyes. For a moment, fear gripped him—this wasn't a manga or a game. This was real. These creatures could kill him.
"I—uh, I was just… peeing," Luke stammered, his mind racing.
The goblin narrowed its eyes but didn't press further. "Stop wasting time. We're hunting browny hair tusks. Move it."
Luke nodded quickly, falling into step behind the goblin. As they walked, he couldn't help but glance at his hands again, flexing his clawed fingers.
"Okay, Luke," he whispered to himself. "You wanted a fantasy world. You got one. Now… what the fuck are browny hair tusks is that guy talking about?"
Luke followed the spear-wielding goblin through the dense forest, his small feet crunching on the underbrush. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures made his skin crawl. He kept his head down, trying to blend in.
Two more goblins stood waiting, one clutching a crude dagger and the other a knotted wooden club. They glanced at Luke with narrowed eyes but said nothing as the spear goblin approached. They walked and after minutes of scouting, the forest thinned into a small clearing.
"There," the spear goblin hissed, pointing with his weapon. "Browny hair tusk. Big one."
Luke peered through the trees and saw it—a massive wild boar, its bristly fur a mix of brown and black, tusks gleaming in the dappled sunlight. It was munching on the grass, completely unaware of the goblins watching it.
"That's a boar," Luke whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You're telling me we're hunting that? With this?" He gestured at the goblins' pathetic weapons.
The spear goblin ignored him, raising his weapon. "Charge!"
The three goblins let out guttural war cries and sprinted toward the boar. Luke hung back, his instincts screaming at him to run in the opposite direction. He watched as the boar's head snapped up, its beady eyes locking onto the charging goblins.
"Oh, this is not going to end well," Luke muttered.
The boar let out a deafening squeal and charged, its massive body barreling toward the goblins like a freight train. The spear goblin thrust his weapon forward, but the boar swerved at the last second, its tusks catching the goblin in the side and sending him flying. The dagger goblin tried to stab at its flank, but the boar spun around, its powerful legs kicking out and sending the goblin tumbling into the underbrush. The club goblin swung wildly, but the boar headbutted him with a sickening crunch, and he crumpled to the ground.
Luke stared, wide-eyed, as the three goblins were scattered like bowling pins. The boar snorted, pawing at the ground as if daring anyone else to challenge it.
"Yeah, no," Luke said, taking a step back. "I'm not dying on my first day in this stupid world."
The boar's eyes locked onto him, and it let out another ear-splitting squeal. Luke's heart pounded as he scrambled for a plan. His mind raced through his skills—Blueprint Creation, Scrap Salvage, Crafting—none of which were going to help him in a fight. Then he remembered the 3 Attribute Points he'd dumped into MAG.
"Magic," he whispered. "I've got magic. Maybe I can… do something?"
The boar charged.
Luke panicked, raising his hands instinctively. A surge of energy rushed through him, and he felt something—something—building in his chest. He focused on the boar, imagining a burst of energy hitting it square in the face.
"Get back!" he shouted, thrusting his hands forward.
A small spark shot from his fingertips, fizzling out harmlessly a few feet away. The boar didn't even flinch.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Luke groaned.
The boar was almost on him now, its tusks gleaming like daggers. Luke dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the charge. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him, and rolled to his feet just in time to see the boar skid to a stop and turn around.
"Think, Luke, think!" he muttered, his eyes darting around the clearing. The spear goblin's weapon lay a few feet away, and an idea sparked in his mind.
He sprinted toward the spear, the boar hot on his heels. His small goblin legs weren't built for speed, but desperation gave him a burst of adrenaline. He grabbed the spear and spun around, holding it out in front of him like a pike.
The boar charged again, and this time, Luke braced himself. He waited until the last possible second, then sidestepped and thrust the spear into the boar's side. The creature let out a deafening squeal, its momentum carrying it past him. The spear snapped in half, but the damage was done—the boar stumbled, blood pouring from the wound.
Luke didn't wait. He grabbed the broken spearhead and lunged at the boar, driving the jagged end into its neck. The creature thrashed wildly, but Luke held on, his small body shaking with the effort. Finally, with a last, shuddering breath, the boar collapsed.
Luke staggered back, his chest heaving. He looked down at his hands, covered in blood, and then at the boar's lifeless body.
"I… I did it," he whispered, a grin spreading across his face. "I actually did it."
A holographic screen flickered in front of him:
[Ding!]
[You are now Level 2.]
[3 Attribute Points Added.]
Luke blinked at the notification, his mind still reeling from the fight. "Level 2? Already? Huh. Guess killing a boar is worth something in this world." He glanced at the Attribute Points but dismissed the screen with a wave of his hand. "Not now. I'll deal with that later."
The other goblins groaned, slowly picking themselves up. They stared at Luke with a mix of awe and suspicion.
"You… kill browny hair tusk," the spear goblin said, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Luke wiped the blood from his hands and shrugged. "Yeah, well, someone had to."