A mesh of swirling colors danced in front of Ronin's eyes. He didn't blink. Didn't panic. This was normal. The weird rainbow blur always hit during gate entry—like someone smeared paint across the universe and shoved you through it.
Then the colors faded, slowly replaced by damp darkness. The air turned stale. The ground felt uneven beneath his boots. Water dripped somewhere far off—steady, echoing. Classic cave vibes.
Finally, light. A small flame flared to life above someone's palm. Ronin glanced over. The girl from earlier—the one glued to her phone—had summoned fire like it was nothing. The flame hovered above her hand, warm and steady, lighting up the space around them.
The rest of the group scanned their surroundings with tense eyes. Silent. Alert.
Then Leroy spoke, his voice calm and cocky like usual. "Relax. This is just a goblin nest. E-rank standard. Weakest kind of gate."
Everyone exhaled at once. Shoulders dropped. Nods were exchanged.
Everyone except Ronin.
He didn't relax.
Because he'd gotten his ass kicked more times than he could count by these so-called "weakest monsters." Goblins might be jokes to these clowns, but to him? They were nightmares with green skin and shitty clubs.
Footsteps echoed. Sharp. Close. Ronin's breath caught.
Three shadows emerged from the dark. As they stepped into the light, the group could make them out—goblins. Small, green, muscular in a wiry toddler kind of way, clubs in hand, screeching like rats on fire.
They charged.
Leroy moved first. Spear out, one clean thrust. A goblin dropped, gurgling.
The second burst into flames. Fire girl hadn't even flinched. The light flickered with the motion, making her features clear for the first time—long black hair tied back, sharp green eyes, flawless face. Ronin blinked. She could've been a damn model.
The third goblin barely screamed before Leroy twisted and drove his spear through its gut. All three were dead in less than ten seconds.
"Let's keep moving," Leroy said, already walking like nothing had happened. "We'll be out in no time."
The group followed, quiet. Ronin stayed at the back.
Nobody talked, not really. Just Leroy and Paul whispering here and there. Probably knew each other from other gates. Maybe even trained together. The others kept their mouths shut.
The tunnel opened up into a wider chamber. The air grew colder, more spacious. Across the room, more shadows shifted.
Ronin squinted. Twenty—maybe more. A whole pack of goblins at the far end.
Leroy didn't hesitate. "Just kill as many as you can."
Another member of their group, a timid guy finally spoke up, nervous. "Shouldn't we… have some kind of formation?"
Paul snorted. "They're goblins. What, you scared of dying to a toddler with a stick?"
Timid guy shut up real quick. Just nodded, embarrassed.
Leroy dashed forward without waiting. Spear ready.
Paul followed right behind.
Then fire girl.
Then the timid guy, against better judgment.
Then the last girl.
Ronin stood still.
He couldn't charge in. He wasn't built for that. One-on-one? Maybe. Two-on-one? Hospital visit. Three-on-one? Body bag.
He waited.
Then—his moment. A single goblin peeled off from the group. It locked eyes with Ronin and charged, separated from the rest.
Perfect.
This was his.
Everyone else was busy. This one was all his. If he killed it, he could salvage the body, maybe the club. Worth something. Not much—but enough.
The goblin came in swinging. Ronin ducked, stepped in, and threw a punch. Solid.
Or it would've been—if it landed.
The goblin ducked, faster than it should've been.
Ronin blinked.
Weird.
He punched again.
The goblin twisted out of the way, screeched, and grinned. Like it was playing with him.
What the hell?
Goblins didn't dodge. They swung like idiots and took hits like meatbags. Why was this one moving like it had combat training?
Unless…
Ronin's eyes widened. A slow smirk crept across his face.
This one had a magic crystal in it.
That explained it.
He'd heard about it. One in a hundred monsters had one buried somewhere inside. When they did, they got faster. Smarter. Stronger. Dangerous.
But if you killed one?
That crystal could sell for more than a month's rent. Maybe two.
This was it. This was his lucky break.
All he had to do now was—
Defeat a mini green Terminator.
Shit.