Chương 148: The Tribulations of Gob-Run (Part 2)

It was not until nightfall that Gob-Run, tortured into a pile of limp mud, was dragged back to the specimen repository. As soon as the transporting mage stepped out, the special goblin across the hallway broke into a wave of mockery.

"How was it, kid? Feel that madman's passion, didn't you? I warned you—answer whatever he asks, or nothing but suffering awaits you!" Gob-Run couldn't squeeze out a single word. He was far too exhausted to reply; after a spell of violent gasping, he slumped into a deep, unconscious sleep. On the second day, Gob-Run was subjected to another session of frenzied torture. This time, Pinier switched tactics: waterboarding.

He covered Gob-Run's face with a thick cloth, pouring water over it relentlessly while whispering into his ear again and again, demanding his name. Water surged into Gob-Run's nasal passages, torturing him with wave after wave of suffocating agony. Gob-Run noticed that whenever Pinier tortured him, the man's eyes burned with a manic intensity—as if inflicting pain was done purely for his own twisted amusement. The realization filled Gob-Run's heart with sheer terror!

Just as Pinier was about to press the damp cloth onto his face yet again, Gob-Run broke completely, screaming his name at the top of his lungs.

"Stop torturing me! My name is Gob-Run!" Pinier froze, slowly lowering the towel. He stepped over to the side of the torture bed, looking down condescendingly at Gob-Run.

"Oh, so you're named Gob-Run, are you? A standard goblin name, handed out based on traits, talents, or personality. Does that mean you're exceptionally good at running?" He examined Gob-Run's thighs, reaching out to give them a firm squeeze.

"Hmm, exceptionally sturdy lower limbs indeed. Hard muscles. It seems you really can run fast. Did you acquire your current rank in goblin society thanks to your speed as well?" As he spoke, his face suddenly contorted into a grotesquely twisted grin, his eyes brimming with malice.

"My dear Mr. Fast-Runner Goblin... if you were to lose your legs—lose the very running ability you take such pride in—I wonder what sort of expression you would make? Kekekekekekeke!!" The madman pulled a heavy saw from the rack of torture implements beside him, holding it up and measuring it against Gob-Run's thigh. Gob-Run's heart was instantly drenched in raw, suffocating dread. He screamed hysterically!

"I ALREADY TOLD YOU!! I ALREADY TOLD YOU MY NAME!! I'M GOB-RUN!! I ALREADY TOLD YOU, AHHH-AHHH!!" Pinier let out a raspy, unhinged chuckle.

"Ah, that? I don't really care about that~ Right now, I only want to see what kind of face you'll make once you lose the very trait that defines your existence in goblin society. There's a good boy... hold still now. My blade is very sharp!" …… That evening, Gob-Run was dumped back into the repository. This time, he had lost both of his legs. He lay motionless inside the cage, completely numb to the taunts of the special goblin across from him. Tears streamed down his hollow, lifeless eyes.

He stared into the void, wondering: Without my legs, can I still be the Cavalry Commander? His mind drifted to the Boss, recalling those speeches where the Boss repeatedly swore to let goblins live freely beneath the sun and the moon—to free the goblin race from the reality of being slaughtered at will by other intelligent species. Back then, while confined within the isolated Monster Forest, they hadn't truly grasped the depth of those words, letting them go in one ear and out the other.

Later, upon entering Poloya, they were constantly engaged in fierce combat, bathed in victory and glory, still unable to comprehend the true meaning behind the Boss's words. Plunged into captivity inside Mage Tower No. 528, he finally experienced firsthand the sheer, unfiltered malice this world harbored toward goblins. He was treated like an animal meant for slaughter, bound to a chair, abused, and tortured—calling out to heaven and earth to no avail, surrounded by nothing but cold, unfeeling steel instruments.

He recalled how back in the Alliance, the Boss would repeatedly roar into their ears: Murderers shall die; thieves shall be punished. At the time, his thick goblin skull couldn't fathom why the Boss went through the trouble of establishing such complex rules. Wasn't it natural for the strong to eat the weak? Now, bound here and brutalized, he truly understood the blessing of the Alliance's system.

In the Alliance, no one could ever torture you in such a psychotic, inhuman manner—because the restraint of law existed to protect every citizen under its banner. In that moment, his understanding of the Alliance reached a profound depth. He understood what order meant, and even more so, why the Boss made them sweat through endless, grueling daily drills: it was all to ensure they wouldn't end up like him—bound and slaughtered at the whim of humans or other races!

"Sob... Boss... sob... the Alliance's Round Star Flag..." …… Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, a month had passed. In his office inside Mage Tower No. 528, Pinier was reviewing the report he had drafted. Over the past month, he had squeezed exceptionally fascinating intelligence from the mouth of the goblin named Gob-Run concerning the rise of the Goblin King!

"A super-rare individual possessing immense physical power, strategic vision, operational acumen, who forged an army through ruthless military discipline, bound citizens under lawful order, assimilated various monster tribes, and distributed societal roles according to their inherent traits to establish a true Monster Kingdom—the Goblin King! You are truly fascinating! Such a precious specimen... I want to get my hands on you so badly!!"

The man grew inexplicably ecstatic, treating the yet-unmet Li Qinwu like a priceless toy that he had to acquire immediately—unable to wait even a single second longer. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"A rare Goblin King... only a cage forged of pure gold is worthy of you! Just you wait—I will definitely capture you, I will definitely capture you, kekekekekekeke..." He laughed frantically, his maniacal cackles echoing throughout the office. A sudden knock on the door made him instantly shut his mouth.

"Who is it?"

"My Lord, Lord Fortier has arrived. He says he has official business to discuss with you." The servant's voice sounded from outside.

"Professor Fortier? What is he here for? Didn't I already have you send him a copy of the report?" The servant replied, "My Lord, the report was delivered. Lord Fortier stated this visit is regarding official guild business, and he is already awaiting you in the reception parlor."

"Official business?" Curiosity flickered within Pinier. As a mere researcher of goblins, official guild business almost never found its way to his doorstep. Pushing the door open, he followed the servant to the reception parlor, where Fortier was already waiting. After exchanging brief pleasantries, the servant closed the door behind them. Fortier cut straight to the point: "Professor Pinier, are the goblins I brought you last month still alive?" Noticing his urgency, Pinier nodded.

"Most are still alive, though a few were maimed for research purposes." Fortier let out a sigh of relief.

"Phew... as long as they're alive, that's fine. They can still be used for a hostage exchange."

"Hostages? What hostages?" Unaware of recent events, Pinier listened as Fortier explained the situation. It turned out that just yesterday, representatives from the Merchant Association arrived in Pioneer City with grave news: Professor Fendia, who was overseeing the Mana Tide Observation Instrument in Poloya, had been captured by the goblins. The enemy demanded the release of all captured goblins in exchange, threatening execution if their terms were not met.

Pinier's brows furrowed deeply, his instinct screaming in opposition.

"No! Those goblins are my vital research subjects! How can we just hand them back?! I still have countless research projects left to conduct on them!" Fortier had long anticipated this fierce backlash. Over the past few days, he had inquired about Pinier's background and learned that the man had an obsessive passion for collecting unique goblin variants—much like a child hoarding oddly colored pebbles. If you tried to snatch a child's colored stones, they would naturally resist with all their might.

Thus, Fortier had come prepared. Reaching into his mage robes, Fortier pulled out an official document, sliding it across the table to Pinier.

"Professor Pinier, this is a formal order signed by Mentor Curch, instructing you to immediately release the goblins in exchange for our professor!" Pinier's eyelids twitched violently. Mentor Curch was the very benefactor interested in goblins who funded his research. The entirety of Mage Tower No. 528 was Mentor Curch's property. Now that his financial patron had issued a direct command, Pinier's face turned ash-gray.

Defying his benefactor was out of the question, yet giving up his goblins felt like tearing out his own heart! Those thirty-odd goblins were priceless research materials. He had planned to break them in completely, equip them with full plate armor and longswords, and add a squad of fully outfitted goblin soldiers to his collection! Seeing how terrible his expression was, Fortier quickly offered words of comfort: "Professor Pinier, I understand how difficult this is for you.

But please, consider the Guild's broader interests—a professor's life is at stake! No matter how peculiar these goblins are, how could they compare to the life of a Guild professor? Rest assured, the goblin horde in Poloya has drawn the serious attention of the Guild. The Guild may very well mobilize against them soon. Before long, you will receive far more goblin specimens, and I will personally assist you in securing even more." Pinier's expression softened slightly at those words.

He fell silent for a long moment, realizing the matter was settled beyond his control, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Sigh... fine. Goblins can be found anywhere, but our professor only has one life. I agree." Seeing this goblin-obsessed oddball yield, Fortier breathed a sigh of relief.

"Professor Pinier, thank you for your sacrifice for the Guild. The Guild will compensate you with additional funding for your research. Shall we go collect those goblins now, or...?" The dissatisfaction in Pinier's eyes had vanished completely, replaced by a strange, sinister glint. A playful thought had crossed his mind, stripping away his remaining reluctance.

"Professor Fortier, could you grant me a moment? I shall prepare the goblins and bring them out for you." Fortier readily agreed, expressing his gratitude once more. Leaving the parlor, Professor Pinier passed through several heavy doors to reach the specimen repository. Stepping up to Gob-Run's cage, he ordered his men to transfer the creature to the interrogation chamber, bind him to the metal table, and clear the room.

Left alone with Gob-Run inside the chamber, Pinier stared down at the creature, letting out a series of creepy chuckles. Having endured a full month of relentless torture and the loss of both legs, Gob-Run was hovering on the brink of death. His eyes were completely hollow. Long exposure to agony had numbed his pain tolerance; he no longer cared what further atrocities awaited him. Pinier pulled up a stool and sat down beside Gob-Run. Instead of picking up a instrument, he began talking to himself.

"When I was a child, ceramic figurines depicting historical sages were all the rage in local shops. They were exquisitely crafted, featuring various unique designs of famous sages. I loved them deeply—to the point of absolute obsession. Every morning, I saved every single coin my mother gave me for breakfast just to buy those figurines. My childhood dream was to collect every single Sage figurine in existence. I wanted to gather them all together and display them on the little desk beside my bed.

That was the sole goal I strived for throughout my youth. Had I succeeded in gathering them all, I couldn't even imagine how ecstatic I would have been! However, my parents detested my passion. They wanted me to focus all my energy on my studies, believing that collecting figurines was a foolish distraction. So, they smashed every single ceramic figurine I had spent years collecting! Curse them! Do you have any idea how heartbroken I was back then?!!!"

Pinier suddenly roared at the top of his lungs, his face contorting violently as spittle leaked from the corner of his mouth, looking like an absolute lunatic. Startled by the sudden roar, Gob-Run instinctively shrank his neck back. Following his outburst, Pinier's rage vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of sickening tenderness as he gazed at Gob-Run.

"Later on... I grew up. As my parents wished, I graduated with top honors and became an official professor in the Guild. With my status, securing a complete set of ceramic figurines became trivial—something that took me years as a child was now effortless! Yet... for some reason, after obtaining a complete set, I wasn't happy at all. I couldn't feel an ounce of the joy I felt as a child collecting those precious toys. What a shame... why was that? Ah, yes—because things that are too easy to obtain lose their spark!

Fortunately, however, I discovered another target worth collecting—something with an endless array of rare variants~" He reached out, stroking Gob-Run's sunken cheek. A surge of intense, raw madness erupted in his eyes once more, so terrifying that Gob-Run trembled violently, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

"Yes... indeed. That target is goblins. You goblins are truly a gift bestowed upon me by the gods~ You possess so many variations! As long as the population base is large enough, every imaginable, bizarre goblin will eventually be born.

Every time I discover a new type of goblin and add it to my collection, I relive the pure, childlike joy of collecting those ceramic figurines~" A genuine, warm smile bloomed on his face, only to instantly contort into a smile dripping with pure malice—like a mask flipping in a split second. He locked eyes with Gob-Run, pronouncing every word with deliberate weight: "To be frank, you aren't special enough. You barely qualify as an addition to my collection.

But since your King has actually come to ransom you, I have no choice but to let you go. At first, I was deeply displeased. Even if you aren't a high-value collectible, a specimen is a specimen! Once in my hands, how could I simply give you away? However, a thought suddenly struck me, making me decide to grant you freedom: if a creature like you returns to your King's side... will you eventually evolve into a toy truly worthy of being collected?" Gob-Run's pupils dilated frantically.

"Wh... what? The Boss... came to save me? I... I can get out of here?" Gazing at the flare of hope kindling in Gob-Run's eyes, Pinier nodded softly.

"Mhm, yes. The King came to rescue you, and you shall be saved. I will release you, grant you freedom, let you develop into a toy worthy of my collection, and then... capture you all over again! However, to ensure you don't grow lazy, I intend to bestow upon you the ultimate humiliation!" Pinier picked up a small scalpel, probing toward Gob-Run's crotch. Gob-Run's eyes shrank to pinpricks as a wave of overwhelming horror engulfed his entire soul.

"Wh... what are you trying to do?!"

"Heheh, I'm injecting you with motivation, my precious specimen! You must strive to become stronger—otherwise, how will you ever seek revenge against me? ~ Remember my face well. In every single day and night that follows, your companions will leave behind offspring while you can do nothing but watch. Tsk, tsk, tsk... poor creature. Remember this humiliation—it is a gift from me. Strive to become stronger, come seek your vengeance... and become my collectible once more!" The blade flashed and fell.

Pain-racked, horrific screams filled the interrogation chamber once again.