Satou ignored the giggling goblins and focused on his new skills, rubbing his hands together like a kid with a new toy. "Alright, let's see… Goblin's Iron Stomach means I won't starve even if they feed me literal garbage. And Demon Wolf Senses? That's basically a free upgrade to my survival toolkit."
He sniffed the air experimentally—immediately regretting it. The cave smelled like a mix of wet dog, rotting meat, and something suspiciously like goblin sweat. "Ugh. Note to self: enhanced smell is a curse in close quarters."
But then he caught something else—a faint, fresh breeze. His ears twitched, picking up the distant sound of dripping water. "Wait… if I can track scents and hear better, maybe I can find a way out of this stinking hole before the "selection" starts."
He glanced around. The other baby goblins were busy wrestling over scraps or gnawing on bones. The big goblin guards lounged near the entrance, half-asleep. "Perfect."
Satou crept toward the back of the cave, where the shadows were deepest. His night vision kicked in, turning the inky blackness into shades of murky green. The walls were rough, slick with moisture, but there—a narrow crack, barely wider than his shoulders. And that draft was coming from it.
"Jackpot."
He squeezed inside, wincing as the jagged rock scraped his arms. The tunnel twisted downward, the air growing cooler and less foul. His nose led him forward, away from the reek of the goblin den.
Then—"THUD."
A heavy hand clamped onto his shoulder, yanking him backward. The old goblin's raspy voice hissed in his ear. "Where do you think you're going, little one?"
Satou's mind raced. "Crap. Busted." He forced a grin. "Uh… bathroom?"
The old goblin snorted. "The selection starts at dawn. Try running again, and you'll be the first one culled."He dragged Satou back to the others and shoved him into the group.
The other baby goblins snickered. One mocked, "Ooooh, tough guy thought he could escape!"
Satou scowled but stayed quiet. *Fine. If I can't run, I'll have to fight. And with these skills…* He flexed his fingers, already plotting. *Let's see how tough this "selection" really is,and I promise I am going to survive this shit hole.
Nearby, a goblin pup whispered loudly, "Hey, if you die tomorrow, can I have your portion?"
Satou glared at the little goblin. "You're already planning my funeral feast before the selection even starts?"
The goblin pup nodded enthusiastically, bits of rotten meat stuck in its teeth. "Yep! Waste not, want not. That's goblin wisdom."
Another baby goblin chimed in, licking its lips. "I call dibs on his liver!"
"No way, I saw him first!" the first one argued.
"You can't 'dibs' organs! That's not how this works!"
Satou pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am right here, you know."
The goblins paused, then the first one patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, if you die really heroically, we might even name a pile of garbage after you."
"How generous," Satou muttered.
Nearby, an older goblin barked out a laugh. Hah! Last year, we had a guy who tripped and impaled himself on his own spear during the selection. We named the latrine trench after him!"
The baby goblins burst into giggles. One gasped between laughs, "Wait, so now every time you take a dump—"
"You're honoring his memory!" another finished, howling with laughter.
Satou stared blankly at the ceiling. "I have to survive this. Not for revenge. Not for power. But so I don't end up as "The Legendary Toilet Goblin."
Satou stared at the cave ceiling, mentally preparing for tomorrow's deadly selection, when suddenly he felt two small hands pawing at him. Looking down, he saw Goblin 1 and Goblin 2 - the pair that had inexplicably latched onto him since their larval goblin days. Goblin 2 was pinching his arm repeatedly, her bulbous yellow eyes brimming with tears.
"Big brother Satou," she sniffled, snot bubbling from her flat nose, "you not die tomorrow, right? You promise?"
Goblin 1 punched his thigh for emphasis. "Yeah! Who gonna teach us cool human curses if you croak?"
Satou blinked. "I... wait, you've been learning curses from me?"
"DUH," Goblin 1 said, crossing his arms. "You best at swears. Yesterday you call old shaman 'fart-breath grandpa' and he not even mad!"
Goblin 2 nodded vigorously, her ragged ears flopping. "We practice!" She cleared her throat and shouted: "SHIT-DUNG SON OF A -"
"WHOAH WHOAH!" Satou clapped a hand over her mouth, glancing nervously at the nearby guards. "Okay first, language. Second... you guys actually care if I die tomorrow?"
The two goblins exchanged a look, then simultaneously launched themselves at Satou in a tackle-hug that smelled like rotten eggs and unwashed feet.
"Of course dummy!" Goblin 2 mumbled into his shirt. "You only one who share food with us!"
"And not laugh when we fall in poop pit!" added Goblin 1.
Satou felt something suspiciously warm in his chest. Dammit, these disgusting little gremlins were growing on him like a fungal infection. He awkwardly patted their heads.
Alright, alright. First - you're getting snot on me. Second..." He sighed. "I'm not planning to die tomorrow " Satou said in a serious tone.