Chapter 10 (2/2): Time to Grind

Shi Hanfeng donned his own helmet, feeling the world seal away, leaving only the sound of his breathing and heartbeat.

He lit the torch he’d prepared, the flickering orange flame struggling to dispel the cave’s oppressive darkness, casting shadows of moss and suspicious claw marks on the walls.

“Hans, Gert, you two go ahead. Watch both sides and above—there may be ambushes.”

Shi Hanfeng assigned tasks calmly.

“If you encounter enemies, prioritize blocking and restricting them, protect your vital points. Don’t worry about the rest—wait for my signal.”

“Understood.”

A muffled voice replied from within the helmet.

Hans led with the torch, bending low to enter the ominous tunnel, Gert close behind, and Shi Hanfeng bringing up the rear.

Barely a few steps in, a suffocating stench of rot, fermented filth, mold, and beast musk enveloped them.

The helmets weren’t gas masks—Shi Hanfeng almost retched, fighting to keep down his lunch.

The sticky, wet earth underfoot, mixed with who-knows-what, made every step a mental trial.

The initial passage was narrow and winding.

After less than ten meters, threatening hisses erupted from the darkness ahead.

Two Goblins on guard duty had spotted the invading torchlight.

They sprang from the shadows, brandishing rusty knives and wooden clubs studded with nails, snarling and drooling.

“They’re here.”

Hans growled, warrior instincts kicking in as he tensed, ready to draw his sword and strike.

“Shield up. Restrain them.”

Shi Hanfeng’s voice came from behind.

Hans and Gert forced down their urge to attack and thrust their Small Round Shields forward.

Bang, bang.

Two dull thuds.

The Goblins crashed into an iron wall, screaming as the shields bashed them back, sending their crude weapons flying.

“Now, finish them.”

Shi Hanfeng ordered.

At the same time, he diverted part of his attention, focusing on the edge of his vision.

He wanted to see whether, under a commission-based party, kills made by Hans and Gert would trigger his talent for loot drops.

Hans and Gert obeyed instantly, bringing down their swords and swiftly executing the stunned, defenseless Goblins.

Sticky green blood splattered across the damp cave walls and their shields, intensifying the stench.

A brief silence returned, broken only by the crackle of the torch and the trio’s heavy breaths.

Shi Hanfeng frowned.

No prompts appeared in his vision, nor did anything materialize in his backpack space.

So, this didn’t count as a team kill—the last blow had to be struck by himself for the talent to activate.

The skill’s rules were strict, leaving no loopholes.

“Change of plans.”

He adjusted immediately.

“From now on, you two focus only on blocking, attracting, and restraining them. Leave all attacks and kills to me.”

“Ah? Oh, alright. Understood.”

Hans had no idea what new trick their leader was playing at, but getting paid with no extra risk was fine by him.

Gert nodded vigorously, the iron helmet scraping softly.

Their confusion was quickly resolved—and replaced by awe.

More Goblins, drawn by the commotion and cries, rushed out from the deeper darkness.

This time, there were six of them, wielding assorted broken weapons and looking even more menacing.

One lagged behind, awkwardly trying to string a flimsy shortbow.

“Shields up. Hold the line.”

Hans and Gert called out, forming a makeshift barrier with their shields.

The Goblins’ attacks were chaotic and uncoordinated; rusted daggers and wooden clubs clanged harmlessly off the iron shields, unable to budge the fully equipped warriors.

The Goblin archer at the back finally managed to fire an arrow.

It wobbled through the air and, with a “thud,” embedded itself squarely in the backside of a fellow Goblin in front.

“Oww…”

A piercing scream drowned out all other noise.

The injured Goblin leaped in pain, plunging the group into further chaos.

Seeing the disorder, Shi Hanfeng knew it was his turn.

He stabbed his sword through the shield wall’s gap like a snake striking from its lair.

Fast, accurate, ruthless.

The nearest Goblin, distracted by the chaos, had its throat punctured by the blunt sword’s tip, the force crushing its windpipe.

Its scream died in its throat, eyes flashing with confusion as it toppled backward.

Shi Hanfeng didn’t spare it a glance.

With swift, fluid movement, he stepped aside and struck again from a different angle.

The blade flashed like dark lightning, piercing another Goblin’s eye.

His actions were precise and merciless—each attack simple yet efficient, carrying a cruel elegance straight for vital points.

Hans and Gert, behind their shields, were stunned to feel the pressure in front of them vanish.

The Goblins, who had seemed so menacing, fell wordlessly like wheat cut by an invisible scythe.

With their helmet’s narrow view, they couldn’t even see how Shi Hanfeng moved—only the brief swish of blades and the thud of pierced flesh.

The fight was over in an instant.

The archer Goblin, having just shot its comrade, shrieked in terror and turned to flee deeper into the darkness.

Shi Hanfeng glanced at it, gripped the Dagger at his waist, and threw.

The blade spun like a black flash, sinking into the fleeing Goblin’s skull.

It collapsed silently, twitching once before lying still.

In a blink, all six charging Goblins were wiped out.

No survivors.

The cave returned to silence, filled only with the stench of blood and the flickering torchlight.

Hans and Gert remained frozen, shields raised, like two statues clad in iron.

Through the narrow slits in their helmets, they stared in disbelief at the scattered green corpses and stole a glance at Shi Hanfeng, who calmly flicked blood from his blade as if he’d merely swatted a few flies.

What terrifying efficiency.

Sure, Goblins were weak—most farmers could scare them off.

But scaring off wasn’t the same as eliminating.

Even as adventurers, dispatching a Goblin took real effort.

Yet this man slaughtered them with the ease of a fishmonger gutting carp.

Hans had no doubt—even if he and Gert fought this man two-on-one in their new gear, they wouldn’t last three moves.

No, maybe not even one.

With that kind of strength, shouldn’t you be applying as a priest in a Hero’s party?

Go save the world or take on higher-level quests.

Why come to a border town to massacre Goblins?

And even spend money to hire people and equip them fully?

So what are we?

Paid spectators?

Mood setters?

Or just walking luggage?

Hans felt his worldview crumble a little.

“Advance.”

Shi Hanfeng shook the blood from his sword as if it were just a warm-up.

“Stay alert—there may be more Goblins inside.”

“Yes. Yes.”

The two snapped out of it, voices trembling with nerves.

Who cared what hobbies this boss had—maybe he just liked cutting up Goblins.

Following someone with unfathomable strength was a real source of security.

Who wouldn’t want to be a relaxed, well-paid bystander?

Continuing forward, Shi Hanfeng stepped over the slippery ground and focused on his talent.

He’d discovered something new: by concentrating, he could suppress the kill prompts—accumulating them to check later during a break or after battle.

Otherwise, having a prompt flash every time he killed a monster, or a “ding” ring in his head, would be a fatal distraction during intense fights.

He had no intention of being stabbed due to a system popup.

[Goblin slain x6]

[Obtained: Wild Strawberry x1, Beast Meat x1]

[Obtained: Silver Coin x6]

Hmm, that was six kills by his own hand, counting the last one with the Dagger.

No fakes.

Judging by the loot, it seemed a regular Goblin dropped a Silver Coin—a higher reward than the guild commissions.

No equipment dropped, so maybe the first kill rate was higher, or he was just unlucky.

Still, getting two consumables wasn’t bad.

Wild Strawberry could speed up minor injury recovery.

Shi Hanfeng glanced at the fist-sized fruit in his inventory and figured it’d serve as an emergency ration.

Beast Meat could be eaten raw or cooked into a dish for storage—he was curious to taste the difference between loot meat and regular meat.