Ackster was naturally worried since he was going to do something that would be putting his life in harm’s way. And the eerieness of the forest during the night only further gnawed at his nerves. But he couldn’t come up with another way to save his life from The Hero that was doable in the three days’ timeframe he had. So, even if he was spooked and afraid, Ackster walked into the forest with firm resolve.

Ackster didn’t know the exact location of what he was looking for in the forest. He only knew that it was deeper into the woods. Not necessarily at the deepest parts, just not at the edges. However, he wasn’t expecting to find it the first night. He hoped he would since it would make things easier for him. But he knew that it would be difficult. Ackster only had his luck to depend on when it came to finding it before his fight with The Hero. The least he could do was be efficient in his search, so he focused on looking for it with all his might.

All of his sharpened senses combed through his surroundings as he watched for both threats and his target. Maybe that was why he didn’t attract any predators or monsters so far. He was so focused on his task that he forgot to feel fear, something both monsters and beasts could smell.

Unlike the well-groomed lawn of the Phileam estate, the forest floor was covered in branches, leaves, plants, and all kinds of stuff, all of which made it practically impossible for the untrained Ackster to move without making a sound. It was only inevitable that someone or something would pick up on those sounds and at least come to investigate.

Some beasts might have even come to take a look at Ackster before going away after deciding it didn’t look like it was worth the hassle. But there were bound to be exceptions.

And Ackster eventually stumbled onto his first opponent in this world. When he saw the monster, he couldn’t help but gulp as a cold sweat broke out on the small of his back.

The book, like most pieces of fiction, described the monster as an ugly, humanoid, green thing with an elongated face, pointy ears, crooked teeth, and an oddly proportioned body. Ackster understood why the author used the word ‘ugly’ to describe the creature every time it made an appearance since it was indeed a sore sight on the eyes. But what Ackster wasn’t prepared for was how dangerous it looked as it stared at him with its half-crazed dirt-yellow eyes and held a wooden club with old bloodstains on it.

Ackster didn’t have any fighting experience, whether it was during his life on Earth or trapped as muscle memory in the original Ackster’s body. The original Ackster had just gone around abusing his strength to bully people. That wasn’t fighting.

So, when the goblin grinned at him, Ackster felt a sense of trepidation as he prepared to face the monster.

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Ackster didn’t let the monster go with his eyes, but he sharpened his ears as he tried to listen for the sounds of other goblins nearby. Goblins often moved in packs, and they were smart enough to know how to sneak-attack their target.

But the goblin in front of Ackster intentionally stepped into his line of sight so that he could see it without even trying to ambush him. If Ackster wasn’t careful, he could be caught in a trap and baited into fighting the goblin while the rest of the pack surrounded him to bring him down.

Ackster didn’t think he would lose against a single goblin if it came down to it, even without prior fighting experience. But he wouldn’t stand a chance against an entire horde of goblins. Even just a few goblins would be enough to put him in trouble.

However, Ackster didn’t hear any sounds from his surroundings. And he couldn’t see any yellow eyes hiding in the darkness. It didn’t mean he was in the clear, but it did seem like the goblin was a stray and had chosen to attack him on its own.

Ackster looked into the goblin’s eyes. He didn’t think the goblin would stay still if he ran. And it would be better to face danger head-on, especially if he was going to stay in this world and train his skill. So, instead of fleeing and taking a wooden club to the back of his head, Ackster chose to fight and take the club to his face.

He threw a quick glance around him to see if there was anything suitable to use as a weapon against the goblin. Unfortunately, the only things that looked like they were usable were either attached to sturdy trees or half-buried rocks that would need an excavator to be moved.

Left without a choice, Ackster raised his fists and started moving toward the goblin in a slight circular curve.

The goblin watched him with its eerie eyes, and when Ackster was three meters away, the goblin finally had enough. It twisted its body and turned toward Ackster. It began sprinting while raising its club and got it ready to crash down on Ackster.

Despite watching the goblin like a hawk, Ackster was still startled by its sudden charge, even more so when it let out a kackling screech. It was his first time fighting a monster, and Ackster was tragically unprepared to deal with the goblin’s wild charge.

However, Ackster caught himself before the goblin could swing its club and threw himself to the side. He tried rolling so that he would cover as much distance as possible and also make it easy to stand up again.

Thankfully, his body, supported by Strong Body, accommodated his wish and helped him perform to a passable degree. But even with Strong Body, Ackster couldn’t escape the pain of roots, cones, and half-buried stones digging into the flesh on his back. But Ackster did his best to ignore the pain and stand up before turning around and hurriedly stepping back to avoid the goblin club’s downward swing with a tense face.

Although Ackster had been able to do an entire exercise routine in his room without becoming winded, he could already feel his breathing become heavier as he stepped back again to put more distance between himself and the goblin.

However, the goblin didn’t have any intentions of letting up its assault, and it charged toward Ackster again.