The "person" spoke in a sharp, high-pitched voice: "I heard so many grand stories that I thought this would be a magnificent place. Turns out it's just a tiny, shabby shop."
Raymond came over and pulled at Wayne's sleeve. By this time, Wayne's character had already been carted back to the base. In the split second he had taken off his glasses to glance back, the Kirin had unleashed a bolt of lightning that instantly killed him.
"Teacher," Raymond whispered, "he's not a minor..."
Wayne thought to himself, He's only 1.2 meters tall. If he's not a minor, then he must be...
Wait, a Goblin?!
Although Wayne knew that races like Dwarves and Gnomes existed in the Alliance, he hadn't seen them with his own eyes since crossing over. His instinct had been to assume anyone of that height was a child. But now, as he stood up and took a closer look, he was genuinely surprised.
The green skin, the huge pointed ears, and the triangular hooked nose—this was unmistakably a Goblin!
Actually, it was three of them.
Wayne walked over and swung the door wide open. The Goblin who had spoken earlier walked in somewhat irritably. He kept his hands—which had short arms but unusually large palms—folded behind his back, looking as if he were inspecting a workplace. The other two stood outside the door, looking back and forth between Wayne and the shop with the air of attendants.
"So this is that 'net cafe' thing?" the Goblin asked.
Looking at the Goblin's comical appearance and accent, Wayne grinned and nodded. He thought to himself that today might be his lucky day. Goblins were the most money-grubbing race in the World of Warcraft. They were practically born with gold coins in their eyes; as long as they were alive, their minds were entirely consumed by how to make a profit.
Wasn't that exactly his current state of mind?
Make money! Get to 500 gold quickly so I can unlock new content!
By now, the Goblin's attention had been drawn to Jyssetta and the others. Unlike Raymond, the other three only glanced back briefly and weren't too surprised by the Goblin's presence. As a neutral party independent of the Alliance and Horde, Goblins weren't a common sight, but their caravans or lone traveling merchants with a bodyguard or two occasionally stopped in Goldshire to rest.
Most ordinary people didn't have much affection for Goblins. Although they always had flashy and rare items for sale, their prices were often outrageously high, and many of their products proved to be more decorative than functional.
"What is this?" The Goblin pointed at the screens, mesmerized.
Seeing that the Goblin's raised hand barely reached his lower abdomen, Wayne suppressed a laugh and replied, "It's called a 'game.' Just like they're playing, it allows you to enter that world in an immersive way."
The Goblin asked again, "The three of them went to that world together?"
Wayne gave Raymond a wink. Raymond quickly sat back down, put on his glasses, and rejoined the multiplayer session. On the screen, his figure immediately appeared beside the three-person squad, serving as a live demonstration of a person "entering" the game world.
Wayne added, "Up to four people can play together, but there's only one station left today."
The Goblin turned around and spoke a few brief words to his attendants in a language Wayne didn't understand. Then he turned back to Wayne. "Time is money, my friend. Let's get started."
Wayne said, "5 gold to join, then 1 gold per hour."
"What?!"
The Goblin let out a loud shriek, and his short legs, which had just taken a step forward, immediately retracted. He shouted at Wayne, "Is there actually a profiteer like you among humans?! This price is outrageous!"
Wayne was long past caring about such complaints. Seeing the Goblin shouting, he pointed to the sign at the door. "Pay if you want to play. If not, please leave."
The Goblin didn't reply. Mumbling curses, he led his two attendants away.
Wayne grumbled in his head, I actually got called a profiteer by the ancestor of all profiteers...
Elsewhere, at the Lion's Pride Inn, the Goblin and his two attendants walked inside. Although he didn't visit often, he was an old acquaintance of the innkeeper, Farley.
Seeing him arrive, Farley greeted him and asked, "Three of you today?"
The Goblin, named Noggenfogger, nodded. "Yes, three."
Farley guided the three to their seats. This spot was their "old seat" because it was specially designed for miniature races like Goblins and Gnomes. It featured a low table and low stools that looked like they belonged in a children's section. However, the floor had been thoughtfully raised so that after stepping up two stairs, Noggenfogger sat at roughly the same height as the other guests.
He said to Farley, "Innkeeper, I used to think the 40 silver you charge for a roasted quail was highway robbery, but I didn't expect to find someone in Goldshire even more crooked than you!"
Farley feigned surprise, though he sneered inwardly. Who in this world is more crooked than a Goblin? Only if the sun rises from the north.
Goblins were generally wealthy, but this particular Goblin was exceptionally rich—one of the leaders of the "Steamwheedle Cartel," a trading company so wealthy it could rival nations. The trading city he controlled, Gadgetzan, was across the sea on the southern part of the continent of Kalimdor, situated in the vast Tanaris desert.
Their cartel didn't just do land business; they also controlled a dedicated commercial port called Steamwheedle Port, transporting massive amounts of cargo across the sea. It was even rumored they had their own zeppelin transport fleet, though that particular business didn't seem to cooperate with the Alliance nations.
Seeing that Noggenfogger had only brought two attendants this time instead of his usual massive caravan, Farley wondered if he was here for the Darkmoon Faire or some other business. However, he didn't ask. Goblins were notoriously secretive, and digging business secrets out of a mogul like Noggenfogger was harder than climbing to the sky.
Farley replied, "When it comes to business, who can match a Goblin? Besides, everyone here is an honest person. There are no 'black shops' here."
Noggenfogger pointed his squeaky voice toward the opposite side of the inn. "It's that 'net cafe' place. I heard people on the way here saying the owner is some great figure, but I went in and saw it's just a place using illusion magic to trick people. He actually wants an 'initiation fee.' He wants 6 gold before the play even starts! A smart Goblin doesn't fall for that kind of trick."
Having said his piece, he took a large gulp of chilled milk.
One of his attendants muttered quietly, "But I saw his 'illusion'... it seemed very unusual."
"No matter how unusual, it's still an illusion!" Noggenfogger snapped.
"Illusion your mother's balls!"
A sudden swear word caused everyone in the hall to turn their eyes toward the speaker. It was Todrick the butcher, who was resting by the kitchen door. His job at the inn was slaughtering livestock to be cooked by the chef, Thomas. He usually held a blood-stained cleaver.
Regular customers knew his temper. Whether it was Marshal Dughan or Innkeeper Farley, if Todrick saw something he didn't like in town, he would confront them directly with his cleaver raised.
"I don't know the secrets of young Wayne's net cafe," Todrick said, "but Marshal McBride from Northshire Abbey gave it a thumbs up and told his officers to train there. And you come here calling it a black shop?"
As he spoke, Todrick's temper seemed to rise. He pointed at Noggenfogger. "I don't care if you say my boss runs a black shop, but if you say it one more time about young Wayne, see if I don't chop you."
These Goblin traders traveled between the Alliance and the Horde, selling anything to anyone for the right price. Their practice of selling weapons to both sides of a conflict often disgusted peace-loving civilians. Furthermore, Wayne was now a hero in the eyes of Goldshire's people. Attacking Wayne was like attacking Goldshire itself, and Todrick's words were immediately echoed by many in the hall.
"Exactly. Calling it a black shop just because you won't spend the money. Talking nonsense."
"A Goblin has the nerve to call someone else crooked."
"Wayne's net cafe is expensive, but there's definitely a reason for it."
"That's right. And Wayne actually steps up when it counts, unlike some weird people whose only thought is how to trick others' money into their own pockets."
Noggenfogger initially wanted to stand up and argue back, but hearing the wave after wave of cold irony from those around him, even he—who believed he had seen all the novelties on this planet—couldn't help but feel a flicker of self-doubt.
To these ordinary humans who only earned a few dozen silver a month, the price of 5 gold to join and 1 gold per hour should have been unbearable. They should have been the ones most dismissive and disgusted. Yet here they were, defending the net cafe with one voice, and even mentioning that some Marshal held the place in high regard.
When things are this abnormal, there must be a reason. The profiteer blood in Noggenfogger's veins began to boil.