“What now?” Christian asked as he peered into the other car. The situation didn’t look good. There were at least 10 or so goblins in the car now.

“Same plan,” Bo said, looking at Gris in surprise from his previous, violent act. Splattered blood was still on his face.

Yeah, no. That was a terrible idea.

Jok agreed. He shook his head. “That’s too risky. We have to do something about the archers on the outside so that we can fight properly.”

“Blunt weapons don’t work too well, either,” Chloe said, looking at her wooden sword in disappointment.

“We can use the fire extinguishers on this car,” Gris said. “There should be two of them. One on either side of the car. Besides, why don’t we use these?”

Gris pointed at the bows and arrows and knives that the goblins had. As the others crawled on the floor so that they wouldn't be struck by stray arrows to obtain their weapons, Gris was already in front of his target. It was the 2nd goblin he had killed. Blood leaked onto the floor from. It smelt like copper. It tickled the back of his throat. Resisting the urge to spew up whatever he had for breakfast, he grabbed its dagger.

The handle was covered in leather strips and the blade looked like sharpened black glass, finished with a serrated edge.

This will do.

But Gris wasn’t done. If he learned anything from the fight before, it was that killing the goblins was a struggle. Just because he now had a blade, didn’t mean that it would change things. He had to be prepared.

Gris shuffled closer to the goblin. Blood soaked his trouser legs. He ignored it. His focus was on the beast's flesh. He used the tip of the blade in his hands to test the durability of the creature’s flesh. He poked it in the arm. Just as he thought, it was tough. If he pressed against its scales, it was even harder – almost like rock.

The scales covered its forearms, thighs, stomach, and either side of its neck. He poked and prodded the monster all over until he arrived at the front of its throat. The blade tip sank under the flesh just using a small amount of his increased strength. He tried the side of its neck, but again, it was tough like a yak’s hide.

And it was only level 3. It was a grim thought. He expected lower level monsters to be easy to kill, just like a game. But this was no game. It was real life.

Gris glanced his fingers across the wound bit into his collarbone. It was hot to the touch. He winced in pain. Sticky red stuck to his fingers as he pulled away. He unbuttoned his collar, and looked at the wound. It was gruesome. He could see bone. But it should hurt more, right? And why was it itchy? That should only be happening to a healing wound, right?

Strangely, he didn't feel particularly worried about such a wound. That couldn't be right? He just attributed it to the awful thought that he was somehow bound with a cockroach that had a vendetta against him.

It was it’s own damn fault, stupid thing, Gris thought with spite as his grip tightened around the blade’s handle. It sunk into the goblins' fleshy throat.

“Gris, was it?” Christian gave Gris a strange look. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Hm?” Gris broke out of his reverie. He looked at Christian, then back at the goblin. “Oh, I was looking for weaknesses. The front of its throat is weak. Aim for that.”

“Good thinking,” Jok said. He had a machete looking blade. It was from one of the Level 3’s. Everyone else had the same small knife that Gris had.

“Reminds me of biology when I was in highschool,” Gris said. “Always hated dissecting frogs.”

“Was it the slipperiness?” Christian asked.

“No,” Gris shot him a judgemental look. “It was the fact I was cutting it open.”

After that, Jok crawled to the other side of the car and took out the emergency extinguisher from its housing. He crawled back. Gris had gotten the other one. He pulled out the pin.

“Alright,” Jok said, his shoulders tense. “We’ll fire the extinguishers out of each window. Once the outside view is obstructed, we need to be fast to take out the goblins. Is everyone ready?”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Wait,” Gris said. “We Levelled up. Or at least I did. Did anyone else?”

Chloe and Christian nodded.

“Level up?” Jok asked, confused.

“You’re old, huh?” Christian asked with a smile. “It’s like we’re from a game. We kill monsters, Level up. I gained experience from my Underground Hound killing them. I–”

Jok looked at his own summon. It was a white fox. It wasn’t particularly helpful in a battle. It actually spent most of the time hiding.

Christian paused, his eyes glazed over. He had entered his System? Gris guessed. And with a thought, his own opened up once more. It was the same information as before, but now he had 2 free points to add into whatever Stat he wanted.

What should I place them into?

Constitution was unneeded. He had a lot of that one. It was the same for Dexterity. Mana he had absolutely no use for unless he somehow unlocked magic soon. Oh god, he hoped to unlock some magic. He became excited just thinking about it. Being able to sling fireballs, or telekinetically rip out eyes from their sockets – that sounded awesome.

He shook his head. Focus, Gris. The only logical choice was increasing his Strength Stat. The harder he could hit, the better. If he wanted to come out of this on the other side kicking, he needed the strength to move his legs.

He placed 2 of his free points into Strength. Gris felt a warmth enter his body. He felt a little stronger.

With everyone adding their points, Gris, and Jok, stood at the ready. Jok nodded at him. Gris squeezed the trigger. A cloud of foam billowed out. The wind swept it down the car, covering the sightline entirely. But just as Jok had said, they had to be quick. It wouldn’t be long before the same wind blew it all away.

They all knew what they had to do. The moment the extinguishers ran empty, Bo opened the door. Everyone scrambled into position.

Bo bolted ahead like a freight train. The man was at least 200 cm of rippling muscle. He slammed into the first line of goblins. But they were ready. Bo couldn’t even move them – a testament to their collective strength. Bo’s lifetime of muscle training didn’t count squat in front of monsters of another world. They screeched, and pushed back into the table. Bo was losing ground.

But everyone was ready to fight.

“Lower the shield!” Jok shouted his command. Bo listened. He lowered his shield.

Gris, and everyone else was ready to attack. The moment green flesh revealed itself, Gris’ arm snapped forwards. It met soft flesh. The point of his dagger seeped into the goblins throat. Blood spurted out like a geyser. Gris grimaced, but he did his best to ignore it. With the goblin clutching at its throat, it was already out of the fight. He turned to his next target, and lashed out his blade. He missed, barely as the blade glanced at the side of its throat. He didn’t do any damage; just a light scratch.

Chloe, on the other hand, was extremely accurate. Her arm looked graceful as she flicked the blade forward like a viper.

Just like before, it was Christian’s hound, and Chloe’s demon who was killing the most.

Just what star ranking are they?

Gris was a little jealous. He had received a damned cockroach while they received a scary hound and a mighty demon? Life wasn’t fair.

Bo walked ahead, the resistance pushing against him had vanished. Arrows fired into the shield which was now riddled with over 40 arrows.

Gris and the others walked over the corpses of at least 6 goblins. They had reached the halfway point now. The fallen tree was on their right. A goblin fired an arrow. No-one had seen the little shit. The arrow struck Gris’ shoulder, recoiling him back.

Chloe’s, and the other’s eyes widened at the sight. Another goblin leapt up to the tree with its bow ready in hand, and a shit-eating grin adorned on its face. There was no time to raise shields. Gris’ mind turned numb.

“Give me your machete!” he yelled in a craze.

Cockroach. Don’t you fucking fail me here.

Jok three over his weapon. Gris grabbed it. Another arrow pierced his abdomen. It hurt. Oh god, did it hurt. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes, but he ignored it to the best of his abilities.

Gris leaned out of the window, facing the goblins directly. He hefted the machete, then swiped it down in a powerful arc at the tree that was resting atop the train. One strike cut a 3rd of the way through. Another arrow slashed by his cheek, leaving a deep gash. He grit his teeth. He chopped the tree again. It was half-way cut. Another arrow bore into his right arm. With the arrow still embedded, he cut again. The trunk was now a ¼ of the way cut.

“Fuck it!” Gris screamed. He raised his elbow as high as he could. The smoke cloud was disappearing. Another goblin appeared. It aimed for his head. He didn’t know why he knew that, but he could feel it. Like he was about to die. Moving, an arrow broke into his throat. He gurgled blood, yet he remained calm. Why?

He slammed his elbow down on the trunk. With a crack, the trunk split. The entire tree fell down. But there was a terrifying visage that leapt from the tree, and with a crash, cracking the glass of the window, was a goblin double the size of any other he had seen before.

It grabbed hold of him, and pulled him out.

“Gris!” Chloe shouted from within the train, but all he could hear was muffled noises.

Smiling with a wide grin It flung him to the floor. Gris glanced around him. He was surrounded.

Shit.