Daniel raised his shoulders in a lazy shrug, as if he'd done nothing wrong.
"What? What did I do?" he said nonchalantly.
Then, in one smooth motion, he bent down and gently placed the goblin child on the ground. Pointing toward Justin with an expression so casual it bordered on mocking, he added:
"Kid, look at him. His name is Justin Sinclair. He's a student at Hero Academy."
The goblin child stared up at Daniel with wide, trembling eyes, confused and terrified.
Daniel's voice dropped an octave—calmer now, colder.
"He and his friends just slaughtered your entire village. Your family. Everyone. If you want to live..."
He paused, then gestured toward the distant, dark edge of the jungle.
"Run."
The child didn't move—frozen, uncertain, and broken.
Daniel knelt beside him, his tone suddenly softer. "Survive this massacre. Live your life however you want. And if you ever need support, I'm with you. Because whether I like it or not, I'm partially responsible for what happened here."
He gave the child a gentle push toward the woods.
"Go. Live your life, kid."
The little goblin turned back one last time—eyes glistening with tears—and glanced at the burning village. He watched as Ren, Rex, and Venessa ruthlessly butchered the remaining goblins. Flames roared. Screams echoed. Blood soaked the earth.
He turned his gaze to Justin—rage now burning behind the veil of tears.
Justin shifted uncomfortably under the weight of that stare.
Then, with a cry stifled in his throat, the goblin child turned and sprinted toward the forest. His small feet kicked up ash and dust, his figure vanishing into the dark trees. He didn't look back again.
But vengeance had already taken root in his soul.
Daniel watched him go, and for once, his usual smirk faded.
A trace of something real flickered across his face.
In a low voice, he said, "What do you think, Justin? You think that little goblin's coming back someday… to kill you?"
Justin turned, puzzled. "Why the hell did you just do that?"
Daniel tilted his head, smirking faintly. "He was cute. Didn't feel like killing him."
Justin stared at him for a moment—then sighed.
"Feels like ever since you lost your memories, you've become… someone else entirely."
Without waiting for a response, Justin turned and walked off to finish clearing out the remaining goblins.
Behind him, Daniel remained still—watching the smoke curl into the sky, his eyes lost in the glow of something he couldn't quite name.
---
Daniel simply shrugged in response to Justin's words, his eyes drifting toward the fallen corpse of the Goblin King.
"If I had killed that thing… I'd have racked up some pretty decent EXP," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
While the others continued wiping out the remaining goblins, Daniel wandered away, letting curiosity tug at his feet. He began exploring the surroundings, scanning the scorched village for anything of interest.
But then—
Thunk!
His foot caught on something, and before he could react, his balance gave out.
"Shit—!"
Face-first, he crashed into the ground.
Groaning, he sat up and rubbed his forehead, grimacing. His foot was tangled around something… fibrous?
He looked down—and paused.
A strange plant had wrapped around his ankle. It looked like a normal weed at first, but as Daniel leaned in and took a closer look, he felt it.
A surge of mana.
His eyes narrowed.
This… isn't just a plant. It's a high-mana herb.
Wasting no time, he carefully dug around its base and lifted it—roots, soil, and all. He pulled a small pot from his backpack and planted the herb inside with delicate care. Then, as he glanced around the area, he spotted more.
Bingo.
Several other herbs, all glowing faintly with magical energy, were sprouting around the ruined village—likely untouched due to the chaos. With precise movements, Daniel picked them one by one, wrapping each in a protective layer of plastic and tucking them into his satchel.
A good haul. Worth falling for, maybe.
Just as he knelt to grab another one—
Twitch.
A sudden, sharp sensation ran down his spine. A tingling presence.
Danger.
Without thinking, Daniel jumped—high and fast, pure instinct.
Whoosh!
A streak of wind cut through the space where his legs had just been. Something sliced through the air and slammed into the trunk of a tree behind him with a dull, meaty thud.
Daniel twisted mid-air, landing in a crouch as he stared at the tree. Embedded deep into its bark was a jagged, dark projectile.
His eyes narrowed.
"That… wasn't friendly."
---
Daniel landed five meters away, his boots skidding slightly as he narrowed his eyes in the direction the shot had come from.
Nothing.
No movement. No figure. Just trees, smoke, and silence.
"Where the hell…"
Crack!
Another bullet whizzed toward him—this time from his upper right. Daniel instinctively leaned back, the shot slicing past just inches from his face.
Before he could recover, three more bullets came flying toward him in rapid succession.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Daniel activated Dash, vanishing from his spot in a flash of speed, the bullets tearing through the space he'd just occupied.
Skidding to a stop behind a broken pillar, he shouted, "Whoever you are, come out and face me!"
The forest answered with silence—until…
Tap.
A soft thud of boots landing on bark.
Daniel's gaze snapped upward.
Perched on a thick tree branch, shrouded in leaves and shadow, was a figure in black. He wore a sleek dark suit, golden-tinted sunglasses, and pitch-black gloves. One hand held a silenced pistol, still faintly smoking from the last shot.
An assassin.
Sent to kill him.
The man smirked, adjusting his glasses with one gloved finger.
"Wow," he said with a lazy drawl. "I was told the target was a naive teenage kid. Some brat who could barely hold a blade. Honestly, I wouldn't have taken this job if I wasn't desperate. But hey… gotta feed the belly, right? Maybe I should've charged them extra for this."
Daniel narrowed his eyes.
"Who sent you?"
The assassin only smirked wider, saying nothing.
Daniel slowly raised his hands, speaking calmly, "How much did they pay you? I'll give you double."
The assassin arched a brow behind his glasses.
"Oh? A bargaining chip already?" He tilted his head, amused. "Tempting. But you see… I don't like unpaid contracts. It's bad for business."
The assassin chuckled softly, adjusting the grip on his silenced pistol.
"The offer is tempting," he said, voice calm and composed, "but we have certain rules... unbreakable ones."
"Four times," Daniel interrupted with a cold grin.
That made the assassin pause for a beat—only a beat.
"You don't understand," he said, voice still smooth. "Breaking the rules of our organization… it's not just bad etiquette. It's a death sentence. They'll gut me before I can even spend a single coin. So what would be the point of your money then?"
Daniel's expression shifted slightly, but his voice remained steady. "Which organization are you with?"
The assassin straightened up slightly on the branch, as if proud.
"Dark Society."
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Ah… so you're from Dark Society."
With that, he slowly reached into the side of his coat and pulled out two obsidian-black daggers—each etched with faint glowing runes. The blades shimmered ominously in the light, humming with barely-contained energy.
Gripping one in each hand, he gave a dark, twisted smile.
"Then I guess… I don't have to hold back."
He took a slow step forward.
"You're going to regret turning down my deal."
The wind shifted.
Tension thickened in the air.