“Welcome to The Hidden Gem. What would you, oh, hey Nerick.”

The aforementioned ex-guard looked around, dumbfounded as he took in his surroundings. No less than five adventurers waved hello to him while eating food, and a sixth adventurer was picking up their dirty dishes while being mocked. It was somewhat concerning how little Nerick was surprised by the sight.

“Chef, why is an adventurer working as a waiter for you? You literally have magic that can do his job.”

The adventurer in question, donned in somewhat dirty black leathers and more weapons than any one person could ever need, looked up at Chef with indignation.

“Wait, you could do all of this effortlessly? Then what am I doing?!”

The goblin peered over his cauldron, meeting the man’s pained expression with one of pure dismissal and disdain.

“You’re doing as you’re told. Don’t tell me you’re going to try and leave without paying for your meals?”

“But you keep feeding me food that costs more than you’re paying! At this rate I’ll never get to leave!”

A voice chimed in from the rowdiest table in the forest patio.

“You could always just skip a meal, Georg! Or just eat some of your jerky instead!”

When had Chef built a table? Or a patio for that matter? The restaurant was fully constructed with solid wood and housed a sizable kitchen and small seating area. It was composed of three walls with a large opening where the fourth would normally be serving as the entrance, pointing in the direction of Berics. So much for keeping a low profile.

The patio connected to the restaurant and had enough table space to seat over a dozen people. Both structures had a solid brick floor with a thatched roof, a bold design considering the nearby open flame. Honestly, the rustic aesthetic was pleasing enough that if this had been by the road instead of in the middle of the woods, it would probably be quite successful. All things considered, the current location only made the number of patrons even more impressive.

“How am I supposed to serve you pies all day while eating nothing but jerky?! None of you could do that; don’t even pretend otherwise!”

If Nerick were being purely objective, this turn of events was not only amazing, but also quite fortunate. After all, his goal was to ride this goblin gravy train to the top one way or another, so any practice that Chef could get at this whole restaurant thing was invaluable.

“What in the six hells is going on here?!”

Nerick wasn’t feeling terribly objective right now.

“Did you really build a restaurant for adventurers while we were on the run from the adventurers guild?!”

Chef looked over at his still smiling customers and asked them a simple question with absolutely no mirth in his voice.

“Are any of you going to sell us out to your guild master? You’d never have any of my food again if you did.”

They laughed. The adventurers that had dedicated their entire lives to fighting monsters laughed at the idea that they’d sell out a goblin to their guild master.

I might actually go insane at this rate.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Chef. We know you aren’t actually a monster,” spoke a seasoned adventurer wearing full bronze plate.

I wouldn’t be so sure about that.

“Yea! Besides, I don’t know how long I can go without one of these pies at this point,” said another man who apparently brought his own means of inebriation and was consequently unable to stop laughing.

Now that I believe.

“There you have it. Do you feel better now?”

Chef once again addressed him, feeling that usual confidence in himself despite the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Fine, whatever,” he said, the very picture of defeat. “Just please avoid doing anything stupid to or around your clients.”

The goblin looked at him as offended as he’d ever seen anybody, the nerve of him.

“Me? I would never.”

Nerick simply stared at the goblin as their audience slowly got back to their meals and conversation. After half a minute, Chef sighed and held up his hands in a placating gesture he probably didn’t mean.

“Ok, I promise not to behave at my restaurant. Happy?”

“Hardly,” Nerick said while sighing. He began walking away from the ramshackle building while waving Chef along.

“Come on, then. We need to talk about some of the things I discovered while I was gone.”

After walking a bit further, Nerick realized that the goblin wasn’t following him at all. Turning around, he saw Chef standing stock still, squinting.

“What is it now, Chef?”

The goblin’s attention finally turned towards him. Nerick could almost hear the gears of thought in his head churning to an absolute halt.

“I forgot why you left.”

A sigh escaped him as his hand once more found his face.

“Just… come on. I’ll explain everything.”

He turned his back to the goblin once more, unable to look at the monster for another second. He really did need a drink.

----------------------------------------

“Ok, so I have a job? That’s exciting.”

Nerick immediately corrected the goblin.

“No, you have an interview or, at best, an offer. There’s a world of difference between a good job offer and a good job, so don’t go getting your hopes up just yet. Consider that a little bit of advice from a working man.”

Chef shrugged, completely oblivious to the agony and pain of a job-hunting man.

“Regardless, I can bring us to the location in four days, but it’ll probably take a day or so to get there. I looked it over briefly on my way back, and didn’t see anything unusual about it, aside from it being a ruin of course. Just try your best to be polite. I suspect these people to be quite posh, and any insults to them, intentional or otherwise, will ruin your chances of ever working for them.”

Chef opened his mouth to respond, but Nerick held up his hand.

“I’m serious, Chef. If you want a job where you work and cook with other master chefs, you’ll have to learn how to behave around and talk to humans.”

“But I—“

“Properly,” he said, emphasizing the word as much as he could for his hostile audience. “No insults, no threats, no arguments about the morality of killing a child in self-defense or about goblin rights. Not at a job interview and not at the job either. Understood?”

The goblin groaned while kicking a nearby bush into oblivion. It occurred to Nerick that a temper tantrum from the self-proclaimed child goblin could probably level part of a forest or kill everyone he’s ever known and loved, depending on the location. He would have been perfectly happy without that horrible, cursed knowledge.

“Fiiiiine. I’ll behave and be nice to the humans. Now can I have it?”

The goblin’s age was never more apparent than right now, and honestly Nerick was beginning to believe him more and more as time went on.

“Alright, here you go.”

He handed Chef the piece of parchment he’d bought and filled with the directions on ale making, causing the goblin to practically leap with joy. As Nerick fished through his bag, borrowed from Chef, he felt the ground tremble a little below him. Looking over, he saw the goblin had transitioned to literally leaping with joy which brought a smile to his lips despite himself.

After a little bit, the jumping stopped and Nerick found the small pouch of ingredients he’d bought for ale making, knowing that his companion couldn’t summon something he’d never seen before. But instead of the incredibly happy goblin he was expecting to see, he instead found a sad and perhaps even embarrassed Chef looking up at him.

“Hey Nerick.”

He nodded at the goblin.

“Can you read this to me?”

He sighed, patting the goblin on the head. Paternal instincts were kicking in despite the fact that this tiny creature could eviscerate him effortlessly. Using those big, round eyes glistening with hope and excitement was definitely cheating, and Nerick couldn’t be convinced otherwise.

“Alright, but you’re also going to learn to read it yourself. That’s another thing you’ll need if you’re going to work with humans.”

A groan filled the forest as the goblin collapsed to the ground in defeat.