"Those assholes, how long are they gonna take!? I can't bloody keep this shop running all by myself..."
Munching on a stick of bitter cikolet, Lewis made his way towards the centre of Mithrador, eyes scrunched.
Damn it, this shit's so bitttteeerrr! Don't they know they can add sugar to make it sweet!?
Despite his disgust towards the abhorrent creation, he could not help but continue munching on the slightly familiar treat. Using Appraisal, he once again looked at the description of the heinous treat:
Item: Cikolet
Durability: 300/300
Tier: 1
Grade: Edible(?)
Remark: The failed(?) creation of Chovlec Maetres, who attempted to peer at the Gods' secrets(?). Bitter in taste, by all accounts it shouldn't even sell! But since this is the closest they can get, eh, what else can they do? So pucker your lips, close your eyes, and start munching (read: forcing) the sweet, sweet (not) treat down your (miserable) throats!
Holy shit, why on Earth does my appraisal act this way!?
Lewis had once consulted with other people and beings who hold the same Appraisal abilities. Upon hearing that his ability always gave sbide remarks, they all side-eyed him, thinking that he must've escaped from some deranged laboratory of a senile necromancer (necromancers here are very regulated. Failure to comply with the rules will result in immediate execution).
Giving up on trying to convince them otherwise, Lewis simply accepted their sympathetic claps, smiling weakly. It is what it is...
Despite the side remarks, the ability worked better, far better than those used by other users.
Gagging upon swallowing the toxic shit that was cikolet, Lewis turned his head to his main source of his headac-
"Hey, hey, HEY! *Uhum*, Be relieved, old man, for it is I, Goblina, the...nice? Yeah, nice. *Mhm*, Be relieved that Goblina the Nice is here to help you on your expedition. Now listen carefully, rookie, and be amazed at how easy your first forage to the dungeon will be..."
This...
Fucking...
Goblin
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Ten days after Simon and Duncan left...
"Aarrrggghh! Damn it, how am I supposed to calculate the fuel composition!? I'm not a fucking chemist, I'm an engineer!"
Rubbing his head incessantly, Lewis stepped over the piles of fallen hair, shambling his way to the main door. The constant knocking was killing him...
"What!?" Ripping open the door, he squinted angrily, only to realise that no one was there. Turning around, he was just about to close the door, when a sharp kick to his shin nearly knocked him over.
Who the fuck...
Jumping on one foot, gasping in pain, Lewis lowered his gaze, where he net with a very disgruntled child, arms crossed angrily across their chest.
Seeing that the coast was clear, the child deftly entered the store, where they began overturning everything as a human hurricane. Narrowly dodging a flying steel lamp, Lewis grabbed ahold of the child, stopping them in their tracks.
Despite the intense struggle, the child was no match for a fully grown man. Within five minutes, he had the child subdued.
Curious, he ripped off the child's cloak while they were not paying attention. There, he received the shock of his lifetime.
Dressed in grimy coveralls made of cheap, coarse cotton, the little girl struggled with all her might, attempting to escape from her captor. Her frizzy, dirty green hair held all sorts of trinkets, ranging from broken pieces of glass, all the way to bloody arrowheads. Clipped on her waist were several vials and tubes, each filled with different chemicals, all pulsating and changing colours every few seconds.
But what surprised him the most was that—
"Help! Help me! Someone's about to rape me!"
She was a Goblin