Chapter 230 Squeaky Chittering of the Rats

In the dimly lit and decrepit corridor of the abandoned bandit outpost, The Beast callously tossed the now lifeless goblin aside, his mangled form dumped like a twisted rag. The creature's malevolent gaze shifted, fixating on Suzuka, still deep in thought.

With an ominous growl, The Beast emerged from the darkness, its massive form slowly materializing. The creature's predatory instincts kicked in as it saw Suzuka, calculating her as easy prey. The worn-down outpost seemed to close in, creating an eerie ambiance that accentuated the impending threat.

The Beast, fueled by sadistic desires, approached Suzuka with deliberate and menacing strides. Its monstrous silhouette loomed over her, casting a grotesque shadow on the cracked walls of the corridor. The air grew thick with tension as the creature prepared to strike, confident in catching Suzuka off guard.

However, the keen instincts that had served Suzuka well in her adventures were not to be underestimated. She swiftly dispatched The Beast with a quick draw of her sword and a merciless slash that split the monster's head in two before The Beast could pounce on her.

"Know your place, monster. I'm busy thinking. Die trash." She said with a cold tone as she killed the monster.

Taking a moment to wipe the creature's blood from her blade, Suzuka remembered why she needed the goblin and with an air of casual indifference, she muttered to herself, "Ah yes, I remember now, I needed this goblin to show me the way through the forest. Without him, I would get lost due to the corrupted magic in the air, disrupting my sense of direction. Too bad I can't navigate like goblins, it would have been quite handy. Oh well, I better go check on what's left of that miserable goblin."

Approaching Hermit's mangled form, Suzuka crouched down to assess the extent of the goblin's torment. Hermit's body bore the unmistakable signs of being wrung and twisted to the point of nearly being torn in half. Bones were crushed, and internal organs hung grotesquely from both ends. Despite the grotesque display of brutality, Hermit clung to a thread of life. His short, weak, rapid breaths were barely noticeable, and his crushed limbs quivered ever so slightly, betraying the immense pain he endured. His bulging eyes seemed on the verge of explosion, devoid of any signs of life.

Suzuka, though visibly disgusted by the gruesome sight of Hermit's mangled form, reluctantly attempted to address the goblin's sorry state. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she scavenged a broken branch from the ground, her fingers barely making contact with the stickiness that coated Hermit's exposed insides.

With a callous demeanor, Suzuka pushed his feces-covered guts back into his butt, using the stick to jab and maneuver the entrails back into place. The vile task was accompanied by the unpleasant squelching sounds of the repositioned organs. She then turned her attention to the goblin's vomit-smeared belly pouch, grotesquely dangling from his mouth. Bracing herself, she forcefully stuffed the pouch back down his throat with a filthy stick, her actions a mixture of revulsion and an attempt to restore some semblance of order to the mangled goblin.

 With Hermit's organs somewhat back in place, she made a small cut on her finger. The moment a bead of blood welled up, she inserted it into the goblin's mouth, a method she had used to heal him before.

As her healing blood touched Hermit's tongue, his lips instinctively wrapped around her finger with a loud, wet chomp. Even in his unconscious state, the goblin began to suck on her finger as if his life depended on it. She winced at the sight but knew the effectiveness of her special blood.

 Like a sponge absorbing water, Hermit's body absorbed her magical blood. In mere minutes, the goblin's wrung and crushed body started to twist back into its proper shape. His broken and twisted limbs snapped back with a series of unsettling crunching sounds, gradually strengthening. The rapid, tiny, weak breaths he had been taking transformed into full, normal breaths, a sign of the magical healing process taking effect on his crushed insides.

Suzuka withdrew her finger from Hermit's mouth, wiping it on the ground with a grimace of distaste. As the healing took its course, the goblin's once-lifeless eyes flickered with a hint of consciousness. His body, no longer mangled and twisted, seemed to regain some semblance of vitality.

"Well, you're welcome, you miserable goblin," Suzuka muttered under her breath, her annoyance evident. She stood up and surveyed the scene of the bandit outpost, her eyes scanning for any signs of remaining threats.

Satisfied that Hermit was on the path to recovery she grabbed him by his sensitive, meaty ears, treating him like a ragdoll, and tossed him into the room where the secret treasure was hidden. With a show of her immense strength, she heaved a massive chunk of the collapsed wall, blocking the door like a makeshift barricade. Her attention then shifted to the monsters who nestled in these abandoned ruins.

Determined to kill some time while Hermit recovered, Suzuka ventured out to confront the monsters lurking in the bandit outpost. Her goal was twofold - not only to ensure the goblin's undisturbed recovery but also to gather the necessary proof of her kills to earn a title on her adventurer's card. The echoes of her footsteps mingled with the distant growls and roars of the menacing creatures that awaited her in the dark corridors of the outpost.

In the pitch-black room, Hermit lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, surrounded by an oppressive atmosphere of damp air and the pungent scent of mildew that filled his nostrils. As Suzuka's healing blood worked its magic, his crushed body gradually began to piece itself back together. The grotesque scene of his organs being pushed and jammed back into place played on a loop in his consciousness, haunting him as he regained awareness.

The ache throughout his body was intense, each movement a reminder of the trauma he had endured. Groggily, Hermit tried to make sense of his surroundings. The dimly lit room offered little in the way of clarity, and as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the goblin propped himself up on his shaky, barely healed limbs. The ordeal had left him disoriented, vulnerable, and with a deep-seated dread of what might come next.

 His wobbly legs struggled to support his weight, causing him to shuffle in place clumsily. Uttering incoherent mumbles, he clutched his throbbing head, attempting to shake off the lingering stupor.

"Wreeee... what happened? Why is everything spinning like a merry-go-round for Hermit?"

As he staggered forward, Hermit discovered an unpleasant sensation around his shorts. Confused and disoriented, he reached down and brushed against the fabric, only to find it wet and slimy. Pulling his feces-smeared palm up to his face, the overwhelming stench assaulted his sensitive sniffer, prompting a disgusted wince.

 "Ugh, goblin poop...! Why is Hermit all squishy down there?! No likey!"

 Panicking, he tried to remove the soiled shorts, but his limbs were slow to respond.

"Stupid shorts! Get off Hermit! Off! Ugh, why do arms not listen? Bad arms!"

In his futile attempt, Hermit lost his balance and tumbled to the ground, his head painfully colliding with some debris scattered on the floor. Sorrowful cries escaped him as he desperately wriggled and shuffled, attempting to free himself from the soiled shorts that clung to him, further smearing him with the repulsive filth.

"Owie! My head hurts now! Shorts won't go away! Help! Wreeee! Goblin stuck! Stupid shorts win! Wreeee... help Hermit, legs! Help!"

The goblin continued to fumble with the offensive garment, his movements a chaotic dance of confusion and discomfort. His mumbles grew louder and more distressed with each failed attempt.

"Sticky, yucky shorts! Why stick to Hermit like glue? Not fair! WREEEEEEEE! Let go, shorts! Hermit wants clean shorts, not a poopy mess! Bad, bad shorts!"

As Hermit struggled on the floor, he accidentally knocked into a pile of rubble, sending a small cascade of debris tumbling down. The goblin, undeterred by the minor chaos, continued his ongoing battle with the stubborn shorts.

"Ouch! Stupid rock! Why in Hermit's way? Move, rock! WREEEEEEEE! Shorts, you listen! Hermit's the boss, not you! Let go, let go!"

While Hermit continued his lamentable dance with the stubborn shorts, Suzuka, outside the makeshift barricade, was battling the monsters that infested the abandoned bandit outpost. The sounds of clashing weapons, roars, and spells echoed through the corridor, creating a chaotic symphony of combat.

Suzuka skillfully dispatched the creatures one by one, her movements a dance of precision and power. 

Meanwhile, Hermit's struggles attracted the curiosity of a few rats scurrying about the room. The rodents, always on the lookout for a potential meal, approached the goblin with twitching noses and beady eyes. One particularly bold rat hopped onto Hermit's shoulder, drawn by the aroma of his feces-smeared shorts.

"Wreeee! No, no! Rats! Rats! Bad rats!" Hermit squealed, his attention momentarily diverted from his battle with the clinging shorts.

The goblin's attempts to shoo away the rats only intensified his emergency. As he flailed and wiggled, the rats, unfazed by the goblin's feeble protests, found their way into the folds of the soiled fabric, further aggravating Hermit's misery.

Hermit's eyes widened in horror as the rats scurried into his soiled shorts, their tiny claws scratching against his sensitive goblin skin. His feeble attempts to shoo them away only seemed to attract more of the scavenging rodents. The room echoed with the goblin's distressed wails and the squeaky chittering of the rats.