When conducting an interview, there were a few goals.
First, it was essential to decide if the person possessed the qualifications to do said work, or in the very least, could be trained. Second, there was the matter of their personality and if they'd be a good fit for the company. Lastly—salary. The almighty dollar.
Well, that's more or less how Rozalin outlined the process back on Earth. A lot of that still applied here.
So with that in mind, discussion began. Given the precarious situation of all parties involved, this was going to be quite the challenge.
'Ask her if she wants that dagger removed.'
"Miss, should we remove that dagger now?" Amalia mirrored.
"Oo, ihs fine," replied the elf, still lacking in the tongue department.
Quite the challenge indeed.
Rozalin was mentally scratching her head, while Amalia was staring at the squishy woman and desperately seeking guidance in this situation. The elf seemed content to sit upright and slowly sip at the bowl of water.
It was silent for moments longer. Rozalin was internally cursing and swearing, trying to figure out the best way to get her desired result. She was well aware that her 'speech' was grating on the ears. And that was beside the fact her body still ached and felt like it'd been through a meat grinder.
The goal was quite simple. Find out if the elf was crazy, had any enemies, decide if she'd be useful, then see about employing her for a while. After all, Rozalin's desires were quite straightforward. She needed bodies.
Not in the corpse sense. There were plenty of those to go around. Bodies were required in an entirely different way—namely, Evolution.
C̶o̶n̷d̷i̶t̶i̸o̵n̵a̴l̵ ̴L̴i̶s̷t̵ ̵-̵ ̷P̴r̶i̵n̵c̷e̷s̸s̴ ̵S̶l̵i̵m̸e̵ Charisma ≥ 15 Total Attribute Score ≥ 360 Lead by example. Head a party of multiple persons to defeat a Dungeon Floor Boss or Level 30+ threat. Gain Positive or Negative KARMA.
There was only one Evolution option, and it was a curiously short list this time. These four conditions had been plaguing Rozalin for weeks. Ever since she'd last gazed into the abyss that was the Evolution menu, these conditions shaped her decision making. And that nagging itch to Evolve remained in the back of her mind, festering.
The way she saw it, if she Devoured enough things, then the first two would take care of themselves. At least, she hoped so. The only Charisma gains she'd ever recorded were from level ups. Well, that and the one time she'd thoroughly convinced Amalia that the moon is made of cheese and goblins had a secret base on the opposite side of it.
A joke gone too far. Maybe she could do something similar again? It was a thought.
Still, Rozalin was only about 30 points shy on the 'Total Attribute Score' condition. She'd figure Charisma out if needed. What worried her most were conditions three and four.
All Amalia's attempts to gather people to join them in slaying a Dungeon Boss had proven ineffective. This world seemed to split experience for killing things in some arbitrary fashion, so Rozalin had a few ideas on how to go about 'leading' a group from the shadows and still get credit.
As for the fourth, Rozalin had no idea what KARMA was supposed to be. Not exactly. Earth common sense applied poorly in these situations, she'd found.
Rozalin briefly considered murdering a small village to see if that produced results. It felt like that'd be an extremely straightforward KARMA result, but there were some glaring issues with such a thing. It was also rather not-nice, and she liked sleeping soundly. That plan was on hold till the other three conditions had concluded and desperation thoroughly set in.
And yet, tonight's events may still hold the key. Perhaps she might get some 'Positive KARMA' after assisting these people? It seemed kind of 'Positive KARMA'-ish. Rozalin could only hope and cross her slime-fingers with bated breath. And secretly wish she had a manual for all this nonsense.
Things now boiled down to whether using her available Royal Guard slot on this elf was worth it. Rozalin felt that if the elf got stabbed in the chest with a dagger and didn't seem to care much about it, she was either sturdy or mentally unsound. Hopefully not the later.
And so, an interview process was necessary.
'Amalia, tell her I'll heal her tongue if she promises not to freak out at me touching her.'
"Miss, Rozalin says she'll heal your tongue. She needs to touch you though, okay?"
The elf girl looked at the two defensively, before slowly nodding her head.
'Thank the almighty boxes, finally! Ugh.'
With that out of the way, Rozalin hopped up to the table and motioned to the elf to lay down. Rozalin finally set her tendrils upon the elf's head and began to inspect her. Amalia was left at the side, drained and wishing she were home.
It was then that the Slime had a realization.
'Amalia, are elves supposed to be made up of plant-matter? Because this one looks like she's about 25-percent tree.'
The wolfkin spoke back over the Link, 'That's rude, Roz. All elves are tied to nature—wood elves especially.'
Said wood elf was furrowing her brow at the foreign touch, not at all happy to have something's Mana probing her body. For her part, she managed to remain quiet and carefully examined the Slime's movements.
'What's a wood elf?' asked Rozalin.
'I, uhm ... oh jeez, how do I answer this? It's just a type of elf. There are high elves, dark elves, wood elves, sun elves, moon elves, and more. I don't know the specific differences aside from things in history books and common knowledge. Sorry.'
At the unsatisfactory answer, Rozalin could only huff, 'Alright so she's basically a tree-person. That means she needs a tree-tongue regrown. Got it.'
With blatant disregard for the natural order of Healing magic and proper learning, Rozalin decided to just 'get things over with' and make a damn tongue.
—'Fucking! What kind of bullshit design is this!? Wait, can you do that? Would sunlight help, like photosynthesis? Oooh, this is unique. The cell's regenerative property is rather high. But why is there ...'
Similar speech and thoughts bubbled up within Rozalin for several minutes. Amalia decided to excuse herself and check on the women and children, explaining to the elf before departing. Rozalin continued examining her 'patient' and trying to understand Elven biology within the span of a handful of moments. Amalia heard the woman talking to herself from the other room, thoughts bleeding over the Link.
After a while, Amalia returned to the still-jabbering Slime woman, who was now going on about something concerning 'telomeres' and creating an 'even better tongue,' as she put it. Amalia had learned over the past several months that Rozalin was at her most dangerous when this happened. Curiosity was a frightening thing.
"Roz, can you finish healing her tongue? You're doing it again. I think she's starting to get worried."
True to form, the elf had an increasingly doubtful and wary expression on her face. She'd even inched away from the grope-happy Slime, who now had a tendril directly in her nose and ear. A generous portion of Rozalin's body was in contact with her cheek, as well.
This verbal prod seemed to snap the Slime back to attention.
'Oh, right, yes. Tell her that I've finished examining her biology so I should be able to manage a tongue or two.' Rozalin replied.
Doubt filled even Amalia's mental voice.
'Should? ... And you mean one tongue, right? Just one? Inside the mouth, like before?'
'Yes yes, just like before. ... More or less.'
Ignoring that last bit, Amalia informed the elf. Rozalin then set out to work.
Surprise filled the elven woman's eyes, as she felt something tingling and wriggling within her mouth. She'd never experienced Healing magic from humankind before. Wood elves like herself tended to let things run their natural cycle. Healing among her kind was customarily done with natural regeneration, medicine, and poultices—with some rare exceptions.
What was even more foreign was the bizarre Mana signature that had been invading her body for the past several, extremely long moments. Despite the elf considering herself as rather relaxed about life in general, that intrusive feeling left an odd taste in her mouth—figuratively speaking.
A strange occurrence began wherever the Slime's Mana flowed. A tingle kept blossoming forth, growing increasingly fast. There was a slight gagging sensation, then more tingling, then numbness and the prickling of a hundred needles. It was soon after that the woman realized the prickling in her mouth signaled that she did indeed have a tongue again.
"Roz says she's done. Can you speak better now? Try it out."
The beastkin before the elf motioned toward her, while the Slime jumped off the table and rolled towards the only free chair in the room. The two stared at the elf, awaiting a response.
At first, she seemed content to poke her tongue around in her mouth. Then she began making rolling L and G-sounds. Several emotions seemed to pass upon her face in quick succession.
And then finally, she spoke, much more clearly this time.
"By Mother Mel'dion's sweet teets, you've really healed the narkyit thing!"
Her free hand slapped over her mouth, before voicing sheepishly to herself, "No offense meant, Great Mother."
Her accent was melodic and foreign, yet still manageable with a bit of attention. A broad smile blossomed on the elf's face, revealing a set of teeth sharper than any a human likely possessed. While not saw-like, calling them carnivorous would be a fair assessment.
With tongue now in cheek, the conversation was able to flow much more freely. Or at least, as freely as one party having an interpreter enabled.
"My name is Valduin Denpa'thìlsa Qaédrys, and I thank you for your timely rescue. I fear had you arrived any later, those knaves would have finished me for good!"
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With a small flourish, the elf bowed towards Amalia. The fact her ankles were still shackled diminished any elegance that may have otherwise been present.
Amalia's brow furrowed, "V-Valduin ... Deppa, D-Denpa'thessa ..."
Rozalin sighed, 'She said it clearly. Valduin Denpa'thìlsa Qaédrys. Don't make us look like bumpkins, please.'
Amalia's cheeks turned red, 'Y-You! You don't even have lips! You try saying it with a mouth!'
An offended slime-tendril raised to object but was interrupted by the elf clearing her throat.
"You may call me Val should my name prove difficult, hume-beast-child."
This look of pity did not help Amalia's reddening face. Thankfully the lighting was dim and her complexion naturally healthy.
"Amalia Alcott. And this is Rozalin," she said while gesturing, "Sorry to meet you, uhm ... well, in here."
The elf named Val shrugged, "A shame, yet it pales when viewed against a Grand Inquisitor's chambers. I'd even say this table is quite cozy in comparison. But yes, the circumstances are rather ill.”
The young beastkin was a bit lacking for a reply. She was busy enough trying to ignore the knife still sticking out of Val's chest. The elf kept throwing off her rhythm.
"Uhm, so ... How did you end up here, anyway? I haven't seen many elves before."
"That much is quite obvious," Val chuckled merrily before a deep frown appeared on her face.
Val continued, "I wish I could say it was quite the journey and adventure, but the tale is rather short I'm afraid. I ran away from my home, then wound up getting swindled and ambushed by knaves. A shame, as I only managed to dismember three before being rendered unconscious. ..."
Amalia gulped, while Rozalin bluntly whispered to the girl, 'Ask her why she left home.'
"A-Ah, I see. Ahem! That sounds like quite a bad turn of events. Why did you leave your home for these parts?"
The elf's face clouded, then seemed to take on a tinge of happiness as her small chest puffed up.
"I ran away from falsehood. That slib-foote deceiver they'd betrothed me to lied in our marriage arrangement! He refused to annul the proceeding after I discovered his family's vile treachery. And so I, of course, challenged the sop to marital combat! True to a fool, he refused to back down out of pride, leading me to smear his insides across the entire arena. 'twere a glorious day, if I dare claim! So then I ate his grungy heart and completed the ritual faithfully, yet the clergy still found fault with me!"
By the end, the green-haired elf was huffing and balling up the remaining digits of her fists. Amalia sat to the side, somewhat disturbed at this point.
Rozalin grumbled, 'She ate the dude's heart? The heck? What kind of nutcase goes around eating people's organs? Elven culture sounds so strange.'
Amalia turned to Rozalin, amazed at her companion's utter lack of self-awareness. She stared open-mouthed and about to object for a moment, before shaking her head and deciding to continue the elf's conversation.
"That—uhh, oh wow. That sounds rather ... intense? What did he lie about that upset you? Finances, family, an affair?"
The wolfkin girl assumed it must be something quite severe for such a reaction. Val locked eyes with Amalia and scowled.
"Even worse! I've never felt so embarrassed or slighted in my entire life! To think he'd attempt marrying into my family on such forged information. 'twas the size of his duck!"
The elf woman's arms flew up in the air in exasperation, obviously having recalled some heinous offense. Rozalin and Amalia both deflated, invisible question marks appearing above their heads. Or in Rozalin's case, Core.
"I'm sorry, what? His duck?"
"Yes! His duck! As you beast and human folk say—his chicken! His bird and berries! 'twas incredibly small! Surely more fitting on a child of 20 cycles than on a grown man o' a thousand moons! Our consummation was a disaster, and I was humiliated and lied to! How can I conceive a suitable heir for House Qaédrys with such poor seed? Runny like water!"
Amalia sat stunned. Then her face began to redden. She continued listening to the elf rave, whose accent seemed to slip the more excited she got.
'Amalia, I think she's trying to say 'cock' or 'dick.' His manhood seems to have been lacking,' said Rozalin rather helpfully.
'Yes! I figured that out!' the girl hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
The elf crossed her arms and spat on the ground, "I did nothing wrong, yet my Father still punished me. Were it not for the stubborn fool's brother being a High Druid, that wretched family would nae have a trunk to rest on."
"Y-You don't say ..." Amalia said with a forced grin.
"Then there was the matter of these Southern savages—no offense, hume-beast-child—thinking they could pry my briar out so easily with me still alive. Had you not enacted swift justice upon them, I'd loved to have taught them a thing or two of how we elves fight when cornered!"
It was then that Amalia frowned a bit.
"Justice, huh?"
"Quite so! You said you two executed those foul men, yes? More than they deserve."
Val's voice quaked with anger, completely missing Amalia's downcast stare. The girl seemed to have ejected herself from the conversation, causing the elf to continue it without her participation for a while. It was then that Rozalin finally interjected.
'I'm beginning to think they cut her tongue out for reasons beside inhibiting any magic casting,' the Slime sighed, pressure building in her Core. Now that she had a tongue back, this elf seemed far too chatty. And a bit overbearing, though that may have just been a cultural divide.
Rozalin proceded to inquire if this 'Val' woman had any more plans, to which they received an earful about her intended adventures.
"—it will be exquisite! They say there's a mature Ahzi Dahaka in the Kuvle mountains to the northeast, before reaching the Poisoned Meadow. I seek to commune with one so entwined with Mother Mel'dion and the draconic forefathers! I can only hope it does not take offense to my presence, but 'tis a small risk to gain such enlightenment."
Basically, the woman wanted to go adventuring and talk with overgrown lizards. Or something like that.
Rozalin eventually shifted their conversation to a room closer to the cave entrance, then threw down a Domain anchor to better keep an eye on the barricaded door. She'd decided that this peculiar elf didn't seem to be dangerous. Rather, she didn't seem hostile. Her mouth was plenty dangerous to someone used to relative quiet.
The night was young, so there was time to decide if employment was still on the table. Amalia spoke with the rescuees a bit, and they all settled in for the night. Now that things had more or less wrapped up, Rozalin crept back outside to start disposing of 'evidence' as best as she was able. Healing the elf further could wait, and oddly enough, Val seemed in no hurry.
Rozalin crested the hill yet again, keeping a careful eye out for any ranged attackers. She'd partly recovered from the death-filled brawl, but had absolutely no reservations about attempting such a feat again. Or in the very least, not tonight.
The moon was still peeking out from behind clouds periodically, yet all the corpses remained. It was quite a disgusting sight. At it, Rozalin only felt relief and joy.
'It's good none of those men had a Skill to play dead or stop their heartbeat temporarily. No one seems to have come and noticed all these bodies yet either. Need to clean up quickly. Ugh, I am so not looking forward to this.'
The number of corpses totaled 16. Assuming the men were of average weight, this meant the Slime had a literal ton of man-flesh to consume. The prospect seemed equally bountiful and daunting.
Rather than dwell on all the dead people and lives she'd reaped, Rozalin instead sought to distract herself from the mounting surface tension her body was experiencing.
She spoke over the Link, "Amalia, how are the women and children doing? Anything suspicious going on?"
A reply came seconds later, "Suspicious? No, they're just sleeping. Val is uh, still talking to me though."
Rozalin internally grimaced, then began to wonder who had the harder job between her and her fuzzy protege. Tasks were best divvied up to those suited for them, so there was no point mulling it over.
"Keep up the good work. Thank you."
Rozalin turned toward her own herculean task. There were still thirteen-and-a-half corpses left and seemingly no room remained. Rozalin held up a severed forearm and stared at it in contemplation. Despite her body's ability to efficiently transform flesh and bone into slime and whatever the hell the remaining mass decided to do, there was a limit.
'Why does this world even have bandits? This is clearly a flaw in management and law enforcement. Should these men have had ample job opportunities, education, and fear of accountability, there'd be much less risk of people being enslaved as such. What a wasteful country.'
Rozalin continued munching on the arm while debating the efficacy of this world's knights and military. To the average person, however, it was just a rather rotund Slime eating someone.
'It shouldn't be a concern of mine, but what do I do if more idiots seek us out? Murder them to the last? While that may be lucrative, there's not enough point risking our lives to do so. And there's still Amalia. I certainly hope she's alright after tonight. Something seems off with her. Hnn.'
A severed hand was popped into the pink Slime and began dissolving. More thoughts flowed through her mind.
'I hope these men were worth a good bit of stockpiled experience. That will help down the line. What to do with that chatterbox elf, though? I still need to reflect on those refugees and our next move upon returning home. Then there are those other bandits these fellows mentioned. Bah! This is too much of a headache for one person.'
Rozalin grumpily pondered the situation below. A plan was needed to deal with all those freed slaves. She didn't trust them long-term. The elf was tempting, but Rozalin still had reservations about asking her to join them. It meant inviting chaos into her and Amalia's tranquil little life. It was a shame there were so few job applicants to go Dungeon delving and slay a Floor Boss or two.
A third corpse was finished off, this time providing more than a few meager points in attributes. The noticeably neglected Swordsmanship Skill found its way to level 2. Other than stabbing a few things with knives, Rozalin hadn't made much use of it. If she ate enough swordsmen, would she become a master of the blade without having actually touched one? Curious.
Rozalin was a bit surprised though. All her testing and conjecture had pointed to Devour giving relatively little from lower-level corpses. Anything less than half her current level seemed to only trickle in minor benefits. At least with monsters. Did humans just have more Skills to potentially absorb? Was that all? It made some degree of sense. She pegged the men as having been in the mid-teens, perhaps a bit higher.
'Urk-!'
Rozalin desperately wanted to vomit. Too much food.
She sat there for a long moment, attempting to recover. It was then that a brilliant idea struck the squishy woman. Magic flowed outward and into the earth below. She quickly dug a narrow, deep hole and proceded with phase two of her new plan.
And then she threw up. Or rather, expelled mass. An outstanding amount of it.
Excess slime-flesh was deposited into a small pit she'd created half a dozen meters underground. While perhaps there may be drawbacks to leaving her DNA or whatever at the crime scene, she hoped no one was going to dig that deep. It seemed to be an improvement over leaving bodies in the open.
With any luck, the slime would soak into the ground or be eaten by bugs after some time. This left her free to partake in all the not-so-delicious stat boost smoothies laying around. Feeling much relieved, the Devour session continued for some time.
Skill unlocked!
Misdirection Lvl.1 Acquired!
Pickpocket Lvl.1 Acquired!
Bowmanship Lvl.1 Acquired!
Light Weapons Mastery Lvl.1 Acquired!
It had been a nice boon for her, replenishing all of her HP and MP. She'd even picked up a few Skills of dubious nature and usefulness. After all, it was hard to use a bow or steal things without proper hands.
There was still a small, nagging headache left over, but Rozalin figured that would go away in time. Water magic had been used to clear off some of the grass, and some earth magic was applied to smooth terrain out. Cleanup was going rather well.
At this point, two corpses were left. Dessert.
Rozalin eyed the two remaining men—the fire mage and brute who had nearly clubbed her to death. She was going to take genuine delight in erasing these two.
'Fucking assholes, nearly roasting and squishing me to death. How do you like it, huh?! You bastards should've taken my offer! Damn lunatics. That really hurt, you know! I hope you get a shitty afterlife and reincarnate as beetles, you sons of— ...'
Slime tendrils continued to smack the two deceased men in the chest, even going so far as to make stomping motions. After a generous amount of venting and cursing, dinner was finally served. With a tension-filled munch!, she finally 'dug in' to the two.
'Not bad! Leave it to the scruffy looking mage to actually taste good. I wonder if it's the Mana? That seems to be a commo—'
Rozalin's thoughts were interrupted by a notification mid-digestion.
----------------------------------------
Back within the cave, Amalia continued to sit with a very chatty wood elf. As Amalia began to doze off, abrupt laughter nearly caused her to fall off her chair.
'KYAHAHA! Fuck you, fire magic! You thought I couldn't learn you!? Eat my Fire Bolt! Fire Bolt! Fire Bolt! Fire B—oh tits. These things are like tiny flares. Ahh damn it, I messed up! Is that grass on fire? ... Water Bolt! Water Bolt! Ahh, why did I get so excited over some stupid sparks!? This isn't being level-headed at all!'
With a deep sigh, Amalia chimed icily over the Link, 'Roz, I know you've been trying to get the Heat Resistance Skill and learn fire magic especially, but I want to go to sleep. You're shouting with the Link on.'
There was a long, awkward pause.
Rozalin squeaked quietly, 'I'm sorry, I forgot. I'll be quiet now. I'm almost done outside, so I'll come keep watch. Sleep well.'
Val, noticing the teen had suddenly perked up, renewed her discourse with vigor.
"—so within oceanic culture, specifically the Northern Mer-tribe, the eggs of a golden sun salmon are considered a delicacy and prized alchemy reagent. If you travel, I recommend visiting—"
Amalia internally lamented. Saving people was far more arduous than she'd ever anticipated.