Merrin pointed at the hay corner without a word when I walked in.
I dropped my bag, sat down in the hay, and looked at my one copper coin.
The bathhouse was one copper.
If I spent it, I would have zero copper and smell good.
If I kept it, I would have one copper and smell like this.
I kept it.
A horse in the next stall looked at me over the fence.
"...What," I said.
It kept looking.
"I know," I said. "I'm aware."
Blink.
It blinked slowly.
"Go to sleep."
It did not.
So I closed my eyes first.
Winning is about timing.
—
Morning.
Merrin was already brushing a horse when I came out of the hay.
"Porridge is one copper."
"I have one copper."
"Then you have porridge."
I paid him and ate standing up.
After the last spoonful, I officially had zero copper.
Zero feels louder than one.
I did the math again.
Room: twenty copper.
Current funds: none.
Quest board: suspicious.
"Is there a river nearby?"
Merrin didn't stop brushing.
"South of the east gate. Ten minutes."
"Clean?"
"Clean enough."
"Any cost?"
He finally looked at me.
"It's a river."
"...Right," I said. "Just checking."
—
The guild again.
The receptionist didn't look up.
"Anything F rank with normal rats. Not Vein-touched. Not organized. Just stupid."
She looked up at that.
"North district storage. Filed this morning."
"Normal size."
"I filed it myself."
That was comforting.
Six rats.
Small.
Panicked.
Done in eight minutes.
Five copper.
Full payment.
I placed three copper on the counter when I returned.
"Guild fee."
She took it without comment.
Two copper left.
Upward momentum.
—
The river was where Merrin said it would be.
Wide. Moving. Not terrible.
Cold.
Not "refreshing."
Cold like regret.
"SSS—!"
I washed my clothes while wearing them because standing half-naked in a world where goblins exist felt irresponsible.
Two minutes in, my hands stopped feeling like hands.
A woman upstream washing vegetables glanced at me.
"Rough week."
She went back to her vegetables.
A duck floated past and stared at me.
"...Don't," I said.
It continued floating.
I sat on the bank for an hour while my clothes dried to a socially acceptable damp.
River smell instead of pig pen and rat storage.
Upgrade.
Two copper still in hand.
Zero spent.
That felt strategic.
—
Back at the quest board.
Herb gathering. Three copper.
Delivery. Five copper.
Missing cat. Two copper. I did not know this city well enough to locate a cat.
Then I saw it.
Goblin nest clearance.
Fifteen copper.
"...Oh."
Plus my two.
Seventeen.
Close to a room.
I took it to the counter.
She looked at the paper. Then at me.
"You registered two days ago."
"I cleared Maren Storage."
She went quiet for half a second.
"That quest was supposed to be reclassified."
"Can I take this one?"
She stamped it.
"Check the whole nest before entering."
"How whole."
She looked at me carefully.
"Very."
...
I left before I could ask the wrong follow-up question.
—
Kilometer three.
Red cloth on a branch.
Dirt path.
Clearing with crude shelters and stolen goods.
I stayed at the tree line.
Four goblins around a fire.
Child height. Green. Three with sharpened sticks. One with a rusty knife.
I checked the trees on the left.
Nothing.
I checked the ground.
Nothing obvious.
Four goblins.
Clear field.
I drew my sword and walked in.
The nearest goblin looked up.
Then it screamed.
"SKREEEE—!"
Not fear.
Alarm.
From shelters.
From trees I had checked.
From ground I had apparently not evaluated correctly.
Goblins poured into the clearing.
I counted quickly.
Fourteen.
"...Are you serious."
First three went fine.
Short swings.
Keep moving.
Next four with my back against a tree.
Then—
THUNK.
A rock hit the back of my head.
"Gah—!"
I went down.
They piled on.
One goblin sat on my face.
Another stood on my chest holding the rusty knife above its head in both hands like this was theater.
White.
—
I stayed sitting.
"I checked the trees."
Veyra rested her chin in her hand.
"The left ones."
...
"You are telling me this now."
"You didn't ask before."
"I didn't know to ask."
"There were three in the right trees. Four in ground holes. Slightly darker soil around the edges."
...
"You knew."
"Mm."
"And you let me walk in."
"You walked in."
I exhaled slowly.
"I am not going to yell."
She seemed mildly disappointed.
"I am simply going to say this once," I continued. "One day I will find wherever you are. And we will have a very long and extremely detailed conversation about all of this. I am keeping a list."
She smiled.
"Your footwork was better."
"A goblin sat on my face."
"Check the right trees. Walk the perimeter first."
"I do not want coaching."
"The show must go on."
"I swear—"
White. Gone.
—
Back in the clearing.
Fourteen goblins.
Same positions.
I did not move forward.
I checked the right trees.
Three goblins with rocks.
I walked the perimeter.
Found four ground holes.
Darker soil. Slight gaps.
The goblins watched me adjust.
Confusion spreading.
"Yeah," I said to the nearest one. "Different situation."
Rocks at the tree goblins first.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
All three down.
Kicked the ground covers in.
Then the fourteen.
Thirty minutes.
One rock to the shoulder.
A stick to the arm.
Something bit my ankle.
I chose not to investigate.
I didn't die.
—
Back at the guild.
"Twenty-one total. Three trees. Four ground holes. Fourteen open."
She counted coins.
"Nest above ten gets a bonus. Twenty copper."
CLINK.
I looked at the coins.
Then at the ceiling.
I didn't say anything.
From somewhere very far above...
faint...
...maybe laughter.
—
The Broken Nail Inn door resisted me briefly.
The stairs made sounds that implied disapproval.
The room was small enough that I checked whether I could touch both walls at once.
I could.
But there was a bed.
I sat on it.
CREEEAK.
It had concerns.
Twenty copper in.
Twenty copper out.
Two copper left.
Bruises on both arms.
Knowledge acquired: Check the right trees.
Walk the perimeter.
I lay back and stared at the ceiling.
"Goodnight," I said.
Not politely.
From somewhere far above... warm...
...something like acknowledgment.
I closed my eyes.
And for the first time since I got here, the fear wasn't about dying.
It was about improving.
Because if I'm improving...
Then this isn't random.
And if it isn't random—
Then she's not just watching.
She's shaping it.
...
I went to sleep before I could decide which possibility was worse.