A few days later, I decide that enough is enough. It’s time to overcome my fear of people and talk to some strangers!

I’ve rehearsed my script a dozen times in my head now. It’ll be very simple. I am… a normal ordinary human. See? I’m wearing normal ordinary clothes.

…But! That isn’t all. Because, well… These clothes? They’re spidersilk. Like, the fancy sort. Moleman explained this to me. First up, there’s spidersilk, like the kind you get from the dog-sized spiders that roam here and there, and then there’s spidersilk. Apparently, they’ve got some palm-sized spider down south that spins some super-fancy silk that’s used for all the nice clothes, like Moleman’s gloves, and…

Heh…

…My shirt! Yes, that’s right, folks! I’m wearing grade-A, finer-than-flux, 100% arachnid fabric of the fancy sort! Obviously, wearing this, they’ll understand that I’m rich. Which is, to be fair, completely incorrect, but that doesn’t matter, right? If I wanted to really flex my wealth, I could probably make use of some of my dragonhide, but I think that might be overkill. No, my plan is to merely dazzle them—not blind them.

With a monetary incentive, they’re sure to help me get to where I need to go, no problem! Hehehe, this is going to go great! I’ve spent a few dozen hours ruminating, and I’ve decided that this is the approach which will cause the least amount of issues.

And at this point, you might be wondering if there aren’t any other, more foolproof approaches that might lend better to my peculiar skillsets while also achieving a bit of gratefulness and report in the hunter and his daughter. Which is true! There could be. And I did consider it. However, after a few hours of considering the pros and cons, I have decided against trying to do a heroic-savior type approach. See, if one of them die, or the creature I unleash upon them ends up killing one, or they realize that the thing I’m using to magically heal one of them is some poor sod’s heart, it’ll make things more difficult, and I’ll probably have to find someone else to befriend. I’ve actually been following the hunter primarily because I was hoping he might, for example, get stuck in the nest of a lurker, and then I could save him! Unfortunately, he’s way too cautious to slip into such easy traps. There’s a reason he’s still alive after doing this for X amount of years, after all.

So, with all that in mind… I’m left with the most obvious, head-on approach. The one that most relies on my people-skills and unflappable coolness.

Haha.

Yeah, I’m screwed.

…But I’m screwed in an honest, straight-to-the-point, completely earnest way! Even if I fail, nobody dies. I can do this. Easy stuff.

I check my notes. Hands in the air to show I’m friendly. Smile to show I won’t eat them. Keep a respectful distance to show that I won’t attack and kill them. Talk in a gentle tone to show that I’m civilized and absolutely, definitely do not have a tendency to kill people when I’m nervous.

…Right! Perfect. This’ll be great. No issues. Nothing can go wrong. Hoooo, boy.

I check the time.

<09:29:09

Day 1 301>

19:14:31:51>

Right. Great. Perfect. So, it’s already mid-July? Crazy. I really am twenty-one now, huh…

B—but that’s not the point! The point is, the sun is up, day is here, they’ve eaten breakfast, but it isn’t late enough for the hunter to have left yet! This means that they won’t be able to try to serve me food, but I can still greet both of them. It’s the perfect time. If I do this right, I’ll be able to go in, get the information I need—that is, how to get to the nearest church of the god of knowledge—and then leave before lunchtime. A flawless plan.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I fix my collar. It has to be straight. I am… a rich noble or something. Yes, that’s it. Rich. Sophisticated.

Gulping anxiously, I step out of the forest and into the small meadow. The grass is soft beneath my feet. After walking halfway across, I’m able to slip easily into one of the hunter’s well-walked paths. I sidle along it, one foot in front of the other, trying desperately to regulate my sweating to an acceptable level, and then, then…

The door is in front of me. It’s at the level of my forehead. That’s good. They won’t see my weird P-brands. Very good. I clear my throat slightly. My voice should be good, right? Soft and nice. Not bad. I have to be able to speak nice and gently. Right. That’s it.

I reach my hand out, clench it to suppress a tremble, and rap my knuckles against the wood. Knock, knock, knock.

I wait. Hm. That’s weird. They aren’t answering, but I’m sure they’re home. Sniff, sniff, sniff… Yeah, they’re home. But for some reason, they’ve moved to the very other side of the house. Isn’t that strange? They have a visitor. Even though it feels rude, I knock on the door again, a little louder. Still nothing. Still, they remain on the other side. That’s… weird. Maybe they… Maybe something bad happened? I can’t smell blood, but they could still be hurt. Poison? Bad food? Licking too many spoons?

My heart pounds in my head. I should… do something.

“Hello?” I say, moving closer, pressing my lips against the edge of the door, in the slit between the door and doorframe. “Hello, is everything alright in there?” But they still aren’t moving. That’s not good. However, with my nose pressed against the door like this, I can smell them better. They smell like fear. Sniff, sniff, sniff. They’re sweating more than I am! Maybe they don’t receive visitors too often? There’s something else, something slightly metallic, but I don’t pay it any heed. I lean back out. “I—I’m coming in, but just know, I’m friendly, and absolutely won’t harm you.”

My fist unfolds back into a trembling hand, and I move it towards the door handle. Gulping, I press it down, and open the door.

As soon as the door is open, something whizzes through the air, and then thunks! into my chest. I look down. There’s an arrow there, right through my heart. Why is…

“D—derekke!”

…Ah? I look up again.

The hunter is crouched down on the other side of the house, his daughter hidden behind him. Even though his hands tremble, he’s still able to hold the bow even enough. At least, even enough to get my heart. I frown at him. At his odd look of desperation.

…What did I do? I haven’t done anything yet. I touch a hand to the arrow. Good material. Very solid. And with the arrowhead being made of metal, it’s not really something he can afford losing. I know that. Every time he’s brought back a hunt, he’s made sure to keep the arrow. Never losing a single one. They’re expensive.

I grab the arrow and push it through my chest, exiting through my back. Then, I remove it, hunch down, and place the arrow inside the door. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, even though he can’t understand. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

And then, I turn around, holding up both hands, and leave. Curiously enough, even though he has another arrow drawn and ready, he doesn’t shoot me again. He has a clear shot of my head, but he doesn’t take it. Weird.

I close the door behind me, walk across the meadow, into the forest, and climb up my tree, returning to my usual spot. Well there, I peel off my shirt. Ah, man. It got pierced right though. Even worse, it split one of the buttons! That seriously sucks. My blood isn’t exactly easy to wash off anymore, either. I guess, for now, I might as well fix the rip. This shirt was given to me by Moleman, after all. I can’t retire it for something as small and easy as an arrow puncture.

Removing my sewing kit from my inventory, I get to it. Despite the situation, I still find sewing to be oddly calming. There’s a simple method to it, and it doesn’t take much to find a rhythm.

A rhythm so enrapturing I almost fail to notice the hunter, walking across the meadow. Towards me.

It’s not his usual route. I can’t pretend it isn’t me he’s heading for. Is he coming to finish the job? No, he hasn’t brought the bow. That’s a bit foolish. But the drake is leading the way, sniffing carefully, all the way until…

It looks up at me. I pause my sewing to look down at them.

The hunter flinches back. But he still holds his ground. Sticking to his guns, he remains down there, and for a moment, I can’t fathom what he’s here for. If not to kill me, then…

He holds up both hands.

“Derekke! Att he innetii. Su iir et.”

I have no idea what he’s saying. However, the fact that he’s speaking to me… That means he recognizes me as sapient.

Silently, I put my sewing kit back in my inventory, put the shirt back on without bothering to button it, and jump down. Although I’m not close to him or anything, he’s still looking at me as though I’m a wolf on two legs. Nevertheless… He isn’t running away.

I hold up my hands. “Hello? I’m not a threat.”

He inches closer, while the drake hides behind his legs. “Er, en… hoeksak?”

Eh, that’s… Does he mean the creature that sneaks into peoples houses to eat their babies, or human? Either way… I nod, smile, and say, trying to make it sound as cheery as possible, “Yep! Hoeksak. That’s me.” Then, I point at myself. “Fennrick. Fennrick, hoeksak.” I point at him. “And you are…?”

He looks conflicted. But he isn’t half-crouched anymore, so it doesn’t seem as though he’s about to take off running anytime soon. “Iir… Iir en gorlin.”

“Gorlin? Goblin?” I repeat.

He nods, all of a sudden excited. “Ik! Ik, tett. Gorlin.”

Well, sure, but… I point at myself. “Fennrick. Hoeksak Fennrick.” Then, I point at him. “Goblin…?”

Blinking, it takes him a moment to understand what I’m getting at. “Ah, et… Juuta. Gorlin, Juuta. Jagar.”

“Juuta?” I repeat.

“Ik! Juuta. Er, Fennrick. Iir, Juuta. Ik?”

I nod at him. “Ik.”

He smiles at me, and I, feeling a true connection start to form, smile back.