After a lengthy and solid drive, Frank and Lauren were parked in front of a gun shop, one that was vaguely familiar to Frank. Could this be the one he and his dad had gone shooting at in the past? The building seemed too different from what he remembered, but the sign seemed familiar.

Frank took off his seatbelt as Lauren tapped his arm

"Hang on, look. The forum is lighting up with news about Lincoln" she started

"You guys are on a first name basis now, huh?"

"Shut up, what else am I gonna call him?"

"Goblin Slayer?" Lauren rolled her eyes in response

"Look, people are speculating about the goblins and where Lincoln filmed his stream. One guy claims to have an identification power and says when he looked back over a mirror of the stream that it triggered his ability, and the goblins were from two distinct species. Fallen Goblins and True Goblins"

"Huh, what does that mean?" Frank asked, trying to wrap his head around the information.

"I can't be sure, but it sounds like if his power is accurate, then that means there's something that can change goblins into a distinct species. I guess that would explain why some of those goblins had weird looking eyes"

"And why the goblins were treating each other differently. I'm guessing the ones with the fucked up eyes were the corrupted ones?"

"Uhh" Lauren scrolled around for a minute "Yeah, the fallen ones were the ones with funny eyes, the ones that had more human like eyes were true goblins"

"Well, I doubt it will stop me from having to kill them all just the same. Blade to the throat, bullet to the head"

Lauren fumbled her phone and looked hard at her brother.

"What's gotten into you? I've never heard you say something so cold except when you're fucking around on a game, but just now that didn't sound like the Frank I know"

He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow

"What do you mean? I was just stating a fact. If it's an invader, it has to die. Simple reality"

"B-but Frank... How do you know that's the reality? You saw the way the fallen goblins went overboard with their bullying, they killed another goblin without a second thought!"

"Another reason to kill every monster that crosses my path, if that's the way they abuse their kind, why should I let any get near a normal human and risk them doing worse? If I have the power to stop that from happening, why shouldn't I destroy every green skinned freak that can cross over to our world, our home?"

"But what if the true goblins don't want to kill humans? What if they're victims in this war?"

"You don't know that, you're giving human motivations to monsters" Frank snapped back, unsure of why he was so quick to deny her logic "Besides, weren't you just a shaking mess back there after you saw just how real this is going to get? One man got lucky and killed a bunch of invaders, barely escaping when that dinosaur thing they didn't expect came through from their world"

Frank stopped himself before he could say more. He wanted to say more, but he wasn't sure what would come out of his mouth next if he continued. Lauren was right, this didn't match up with his thinking before waking up with the system. He wouldn't pick a fight before with anything more than a mosquito, much less blanket a whole species of sentient beings as kill-on-sight. Well, except for mosquitoes.

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What would Frank do if he found a true goblin without weapons or any hostile intent? Something in the back of his mind tickled and images of slaughtered goblins flowed into his head like rain into a basin. But he caught it this time, he knew this wasn't his own line of thinking. It was the System! It had to be! Was it causing him to be more cold towards all the invaders for its own end, or was it trying to steel him for battle so he wouldn't second guess himself when the time came for him to fight?

The thought of the system trying and partly succeeding in controlling his mind sent shivers down his spine, he didn't want to think about it anymore.

"Look, I'll think about it if I get the chance to ask a true goblin. It might not be likely to happen, but its the best I can offer you. Now lets go buy you that knife"

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The door opening set off an electronic doorbell in the store. A young man sat scrolling through his phone at the counter, he looked up and greeted his customers.

"Hey, anything I can help you find today?" He called out

"Ah, yeah. We were looking for knives, any recommendations? Something practical, not necessarily pretty" Frank snuck a look at Lauren, who punched him in the arm.

"We uh... we don't sell to kids, even if it's a knife"

An older man came out from the back room, carrying some boxes that seemed to be labelled as hunting gear. When he heard word of what the cashier said, he turned a sharp glance up at Frank, then nearly dropped a box of duck calls, spilling some on the ground.

Frank knelt down to pick some of the merchandise up without a second thought, putting them back into the box they fell from. He nodded at the older man and then turned back to the young clerk.

"No, no, it's for me! Look, I'm flattered you think I'm so young, I can show you my ID"

"Uhh, I have my doubts man. Sorry, I don't think I can sell to you if you're gonna give a knife to that girl"

Lauren suddenly started to shake and held on to Frank's arm. The younger clerk suddenly felt very uncomfortable, but rules were rules. The older man who had dropped the duck calls earlier spoke up.

"Excuse me, but you wouldn't happen to know a Harold Lepari, would you?"

Frank turned, wide eyed and slack jawed at the old man

"Y-yeah, that's our father. How do you know him?" Frank responded

"Shit, I thought it might be you! Frank, I haven't seen you since you were just a little kid learning to shoot! Your hair and the deadpan, unimpressed look you were giving Greg I could half swear I was looking at your father!" The old man chuckled and held out his hand "Vincent Murano, but you can call me Vinny! You probably don't remember me, huh?"

Frank took the man's hand and shook it, the rough paw of a working man clear and obvious from his firm grasp. Frank tried to collect his memories from when he was younger and went to learn to shoot with his dad. He really couldn't put his finger on it in the parking lot but this place did seem familiar.

"Was this really the same store I learned to shoot at as a kid?" He asked Vinny.

"No, no. This store didn't have a range when you were younger, we only added the one here a few years back. You learned to shoot at a different range I own! Say, weren't you and your family supposed to come by tomorrow for a time slot at the range? Harold called ahead and scheduled... it sounded urgent, and I penciled him in special since we both served in the army together"

"Yeah, it is a pretty urgent sort of thing. It's a long story."

"Urgent enough that you came here to buy a knife for your sister a day in advance? Is she in danger? Don't bullshit me, boy. I take these things deadly serious" The friendly face Vinny wore only moments ago darkened, replaced by the cold, calculating look of a man who didn't tolerate disrespect or dishonesty. The same look Granspier gave Frank during their training. Frank recognized this face for what it was, the look of a man peering into the intentions and weaknesses of another person. The look of someone painting a target and deciding how swiftly the next action he makes will be taken.

"If you'll suspend your disbelief for a little while, Vinny, I'll be completely straight with you. It isn't just my sister in danger, not even just my family. It's the whole world." Frank decided to be honest with the man, seeing as he knew his dad and he had no reason to disbelieve that they had served in the military together.

The old man raised an eyebrow, no hint of a smile showing on his face.

"You have any proof to back that up, kid? I'd just as soon throw you out of my store with a bloody nose for busting my balls under my roof, no matter who your dad is" Vinny's lips and the massive leathery glove of a hand Frank had shaken both tightened. One into a no nonsense scowl, the other into a fist. Frank now knew how to name the look Vinny gave him once the mask of family friend slipped off. The look Vinny wore was the look of a killer.